#I thought I was just sick from the alcohol but then my partner got it too so then i realized i just had gastro

[toxictoxicities]

Not a good combo

also just horrible timing- though its a little funny

[seattlesellie]

don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

[zushikiss]

(drunkly) falling in love

summary ; the genshin boys are drunk and are mesmerized by you !

warnings ; a bit of mention of alcohol, reader in xiao's is hinted to be an adeptus/non-mortal, gn!reader, use of petnames [ honey, dear ]

pairings ; xiao, kazuha, scaramouche

notes ; i got bored during class and made these drabbles 😭😭

─ XIAO

lantern rite was one of the events xiao was willing to celebrate, though he'd celebrate any events with you if you asked him to, lantern rite was one he was looking forward to, though you expected it to go just as well as last year, you didn't expect your beloved adeptus to drink a few shots.

"hm.."

"xiao, are you okay? do you want to go back to our room?"

"..our room?"

"yes honey, our room."

"you'd willingly stay in a room with me??"

though also holding back a laugh yourself, hu tao and the traveller seemed to find it quite funny as they were laughing to their heart's content.

"yes.. like i have been, for the past 500 years."

"hu tao.. what kind of sick joke did you get your weirdly attractive friend to get in on?? i thought i told you before to pay respects to the adepti."

"but xiao it's not a joke, y/n has been your partner since forever."

and after that he just blankly stares at you, no words exchanged, completely silent except for the quiet and confused giggles from lumine and hu tao, you move closer to xiao as you hold his hands, a red hue takes over his face as he finally passes out.

"i'm never letting him forget this."

─ KAZUHA

"wow.."

"kazu, you okay?"

"beidou thank archons you let this gorgeous person aboard the crux.."

though most the crew was asleep, your husband and the captain was definitely wide awake.

"you mean you? you brought your spouse aboard kazuha, not me."

"SPOUSE???"

beidou's trying her best not to laugh at the ash haired male's out burst as he blinks in confusion, eyes darting between your figure and the hunched over captain's.

"yes dear, spouse.. we've been married for almost 3 years now."

"wow.."

and with that, kazuha is back to his staring, his eyes are burning holes onto your eyes at this point.

─ SCARAMOUCHE

"you're awfully attractive.."

"excuse me?"

"i said, you look attractive."

confusion settles in as you've never seen your boyfriend like this, and you've known him for a generous amount of time, quickly figuring out it was the sake, you took it from the table and hid it under, all while scaramouche was staring at your eyes.

"very pretty, but kinda slow- wait where's my alcohol?"

"hmm, i don't know maybe the big bad dendro archon took it."

"nahida... damn you."

masterlist

[wifeyoozi]

Lee Jihoon  ✶ 𓂃   She got the Ruby

w.c : 3.0 k ┊ synopsis : Lee jihoon accidentally rizzed up a rich woman and successfully gets pegged by her┊ content warning : smut , sub jihoon, pegging , face sitting/oral sex , lowkey sugar mommy dynamic , uji and his ruby red kink (red lips + red heels + red strap)

a/n : thank you for 1k followers !! Also please remember reblogs are more helpful for the blog than just likes so please reblog! Add tags and comments to lemme know how you liked the fic!

The first time Jihoon meets you it's at a bar. He doesn’t drink often, much less goes to a bar, but he’d been having a creative block in his studio for too long and it had got him feeling weary of his own studio and his shitty studio was that last place he wanted to be.

You were sitting alone, and he’d thought he could flirt with you. Not that he really thought he had a chance at all, you looked so gorgeous, dressed up a little too formally for a bar, but gorgeous nonetheless, and all while he was wearing an old stretched tee over ripped jeans, his impulsively bleached hair long and messy. But his pockets were light and a whiskey hit harder than local beer and he wouldn't mind using a stranger to vent.

“Hey, buy me a drink?” He tried, sliding by you. In all honesty Jihoon doesn't know a thing about flirting and picking up (only if he had listened to a bit of Mingyu's bizarre flirting lessons). He was stiff and awkward, his smile tight.

“No, why would I?” You were colder on the inside than what appeared on the surface. 

Jihoon held his hand up, “shit, sorry. I just had to try flirting once, y'know,” he said awkwardly, trying to retreat back.

“Oh,” you say, stopping him in his steps, “I didn't realise you were flirting.”

“You didn’t?” jihoon chuckles, “doesn’t it happen a lot to you? I'd find it hard to believe it if doesn't.”

“It doesn't,” you say, pulling the chair beside you to make space for him to sit. He raises his eyebrows at his own luck and slides into the seat, “what will you drink, then?”

“A whiskey sounds good,” Jihoon smiles, feeling a bit more confident now that you set the bar so low for him. You simply nod at the bartender who pours a neat glass of some expensive looking whiskey. He glances between you and the bartender, and feels the urge to stop you, “hey, that looks expensive, you don’t really have to-”

“Don’t bother the price,” you say, passing the glass to him, “you can continue flirting with me now.”

Jihoon doesn’t, infact, flirt. After just one glass of whiskey, he’s tipsy enough to spill every detail of his miserable life, from his sloppy job as a music artist and producer, to his shitty apartment at the outskirts of the city to his music block and absolute need for new inspiration. 

When Jihoon got a little too drunk, you ordered a cab for him to drop him home. 

He wasn't much of a talker usually, but alcohol in his system always made him a little weird. You had ended up knowing everything about your life. And he knew nothing but your name and the phone number you gave him.

The next morning he woke up with a hangover, still remembering last night. He tried to look up for you, in hopes of finding some social media so he knew a little more of you before he could think of contacting you.

Of everything else, he didn't expect the first thing to pop up would be a Wikipedia of your name. Oh.

Holy shit, did he just flirt with one of the richest business women in all of Korea!

He doesn't contact you after that knowledge, having read everything about you (especially your net worth). The number you gave him was probably fake too. Ugh, he'd probably embarrassed himself in front of you.

He met you again. And again. And again.

He'd learnt that you didn't go to bars often, you were just waiting for a business partner who was supposed to meet you there, only to have cancelled last minute due to his sick wife. 

“I'm glad I waited to finish my drink.” You'd told him, making his ears and neck heat up.

You two were at a musical exhibit, where Jihoon had performed a few of his songs as the opening guest, dressed in the expensive tailored suit you bought him as you yourself dressed in a black bodycon formal dress finished with a blazer, your sleeves rolled up. 

You'd bought him a rare expensive vinyl CD of his favourite Bruno Mars album. 

“I can't take that, it's too costly,” he said. He didn't want you to think that he was friends with you just for your money, because he really wasn't. “Besides, I don't have a vinyl player.”

“I do,” You say nonchalantly, “you can come over and listen to it whenever you like.”

That isn't the only thing you buy for him. Every time he tries to nod you off for it being too expensive or too big for his place, you'd take it to yours. So he had naturally ended up spending a lot of time at your penthouse. It was big and spacious and you'd told him there was enough space to fit in all his musical accessories that he couldn't keep at his own apartment.

He'd come there often after finishing his work at studio. He'd been inspired lately, writing different songs and making new beats every now and then. He'd even send you a few samples for you to review. 

“It sounds amazing,” you'd said as you pulled off his headphones, “what's the title?”

“Haven't thought of it yet. The chorus is still kinda funky. Once I get it the lyrics right, I'll have a title,” he said. 

He often thought his hoodies and electric guitars and the drum set and all the vinyls and vintage albums you bought him didn't fit your house aesthetic. But you never said anything about it.

He's eating dinner with you now at yet another expensive and fancy restaurant you took him to. He thinks you look gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Just out-of-his-league gorgeous. Your silky slip red dress and red lipstick and matching red heals did things to his heart (and dick) he couldn't explain. 

He just wants to bed you so bad. He wants you to fuck him so bad. 

He watches as you order another bottle of champagne for the two of you. He should feel more guilty, he thinks, for taking so much from you. Instead, he feels comfortable and pleased. He's always been the provider and the protector in any of his previous relationships – not that he minded to be the same with you, but it felt good to be taken care of once instead. He feels safe around you, and happy as well, and he's not an easy talk, but you hear him talk whenever he talks too. And he doesn't know what he must have done to get someone as perfect as you in his life.

“Hey, why do you like me,” he'd said impulsively, “why me?”

You could have had anyone you want in this world. Jihoon firmly believed that, with not only your wealth but for how beautiful you were, inside and out. He thinks you don't realise that, but he knows it.

You look up at him, lips opening and closing slightly, before speaking, “would you… like to come home with me tonight?”

Jihoon's back hit the wall as soon as you two reached the bedroom of your penthouse, his lips feverishly kissing yours. You were strong – not stronger than him, but you also made him feel weak. You pinned him against the wall, your one hand holding two of his above his head as the other reached to hold a handful of his hair. 

He'd moan in your mouth every time you'd tug a little too hard. He loved it. He loves how you tower over him in your 4-inches red high heels. He's usually very dominant in bed, but you make him feel so submissive. 

He feels dumbbed out by the kiss when you pull away, panting as you place butterfly kisses over his jaw and neck. “Shit, y/n, I want you so bad,” he whispered against your hair.

“Will you strip for me, baby?”

Jihoon would do anything for you if you call him baby in your sweet, seductive voice. You leave his hands so he can help himself, unbuttoning the silk black shirt (that you bought for him), carelessly pulling them off his shoulders and yanking them off to the floor. He undid his trousers and pulled them down to his thighs, letting gravity do the rest of the work, all while you nibbled over the skin of his neck.

“These too, baby boy,” you said, tapping on his black CK boxer briefs. Shyly, but surely, Jihoon let go of those too, now completely bare in front of you. You looked down at him, your hand ghosting over the curves of his body, making Jihoon shiver. He could feels your stare over his dick, which had gotten half hard already. You rest your hand over his abs, meeting his eyes again, “Shit, you're so pretty, hoon.”

He wanted to say you were prettier, but his voice was stuck in his throat. You pressed another kiss on his lips before taking his hand and bringing him to your bed, making him sit on the edge. You stripped for him next, giving him a full show as you slipped off your dress, your matching black lace lingerie a sight to his eyes. He immediately put his hand to the back of your knee to pull you on the bed on top of him, but you pullled back, chuckling at him.

“Patience, my baby boy.”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath, pulling his hand back to himself as he watched you undo your bra and let it slip down your shoulders and onto the floor. His mouth watered at sight of your breasts, soft and heavy and perfectly shaped. He held himself back from touching you, even as his cock was completely hard against his torso by now. Your panties came down next, and when you bent down to take off your heels, he stopped you by your wrists, “c-can you not take them off yet?” he asked you, then added in a sweeter voice, “please?”

There was a smile on your face. “Of course, anything for my baby.”

Jihoon’s cheeks grew red a little again, and he looked up at you expectantly.

“What do you want, hoonie?” you cooed softly, cupping his cheek in your right hand, brushing a thumb on it slowly.

“I-i want you,” jihoon said shyly, embarrassed at stuttering the way he did. 

You laugh at him. “You want me? You are gonna have to earn it baby.”

You gently guided his face to your crotch, lifting your one leg up on the bed to give him access. For jihoon, it was nothing short of a dream come true, to have his face smushed over the paradise of your pussy. He held your juicy thighs for support, as he licked a stripe between your folds. In return, he felt your grip on his hair tightening, pulling against his scalp. He was lapping you up like a dog after that. You were wet. So wet. And he wanted to drink all of your juices.

You were moaning softly above him as pushed you by your thighs closer to his face, sliding a tongue into your heat as his nose pressed against your clit. He couldnt help but want more. It wasn’t his fault, you had conditioned him to want the best of everything by spoiling him like that. 

“Baby, can you sit on my face?” he asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, and you nodded in a yes immediately. He let his body fall back on the bed and you scooted over to his head. You were still holding yourself up, trying not to squish his face. But jihoon wanted exactly for you to squish his face down, to be pressed against your pussy till he couldn’t breathe. So he pulled your thighs down so you were sitting on his face like it was a fucking stool.

He heard you gasp a little when his tongue was right back at action. He suckled on your clit a little, not enough to drive you over the edge, but just enough to make you moan above him. He put his tongue back in its place inside your vagina and he suddenly wished he had two tongues so he could simultaneously fuck you with one and play with your clit with the other. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that choice, so he simply settled on performing the best oral he ever has eith only one tongue.

His pace wasn’t too fast, so to make your experience last longer and better, but not so slow it would be annoying for you. It was the perfect pace to get you moaning. When he felt your thighs start to shake a little, he knew you were close. He put his mouth over your clit once again, sucking harder to ride you to your high, until you were wetting his face with your cum. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he made you squirt for his first time.

You scooted back to sit on his chest now, stabilizing yourself after the amazing orgasm jihoon gave you. He rubbed comforting small and warm circles on your thighs, until you were down from you high, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. 

“was I good?”

“So good, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. “Gon’ make you feel s’good,” you say against his lips. 

You both reposistion so that jihoon was lying down straight on the bed,his head supported by your pillows as you hovered on top of him, your knees encaging either sides of his hips. You kissed him again, your tongue finding it's way in his mouth, making him gasp, his hands gripping your shoulders with need. 

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” You ask gently.

“Yes.” 

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Mh,” Jihoon nods. He usually dominates his way in bed. He's good at it, doing all the work add giving his partners complete pleasure. But he's taken it before, and he can take it now too. He wants to take it. He wants to take you. “I want you so bad, y/n.” 

He doesn't know how you do it, make him feel all weak and submissive for you. He waits patiently as you climb off him to get your strap-on. His palms are sweating and his cock is as hard as it can be as he watched you put on the harness. He didn't think someone could look as elegant and beautiful as you did while putting on a strap on.

The silicon end of the strap was a hot angry red, and matched with the red heels you still wore and your red lips intact from the smudge-proof lipstick makes Jihoon want to moan just looking at you. It's impossible for any being to look as sexy as you did at that moment. When you climbed back on the bed, pulling a lube bottle from the night table, his mouth almost watered at the sight of you.

You got between his legs, pulling his knees to either side of your hips so his ass was raised just enough for you to slip a hand under. You coated your fingers with an adequate amount of lube before circling his puckering hole, slipping in a digit. It made Jihoon arch his back with a moan muffled by his arm covering his mouth. 

He'd cleaned himself before meeting you, but he was still tight. Your fingers were gentle, easing him at a comfortable pace. You leaned back down to his neck, nipping over the skin to mark your territory. You pushed his arm from his mouth, “let me hear you, beautiful.” 

Jihoon was very vocal in bed, more so when he was submissive. Your fingers felt amazing on him. When he eased around one, you pushed another finger in, your hand caressing his thighs comfortingly. 

Your fingers curled inside him, close enough to his prostate, making him whimper your name. You move up again, hungry for his lips, kissing him messily and sloppily as he moans against your mouth. 

“Baby, do you think you're ready yet?” You ask him and he nods positively. Your silicone cock is big, bigger than him probably, but he thinks he could take you now. Besides, he'd like a little stretch of it too.

You smile against his lips, taking out your fingers and coating your cock with more lube. You enter the tip first, watching the man under you press his face into the pillow beside him, his drool sticking out as he moaned, taking the rest of it too. He relaxed around it, giving you a go to move.

You slam your hips against his, earning another loud sound from him. You couldn't care less about making noise, you lived in a penthouse with thick walls. You wanted to hear Jihoon moan and whimper your name, drink in his sweet noises. 

As you accelerated the pace, Jihoon arched his back, whimpering little ah-ah-ah’s, clutching the bedsheets under him you held his thighs up, hosting his right knee on your shoulder to get the perfect angle to get to his prostate every time. 

You loved the way Jihoon fell apart under you. You could tell he was close already, so you take hold of his leaking cock, giving it attention it needed finally. Not long after Jihoon is shooting white ropes all over his stomach, breathing heavily. 

You bend down and kiss the satisfied smile on his lips, slowly exiting him as he relaxed down there. You took a few tissues from the night table and cleaned up Jihoon and yourself lazily before taking off your strap and heels. You lied down beside him, pulling a blanket over the two of you. You didn't need to be told that Jihoon wanted to cuddle, so you slipped on top of him yourself, resting your cheek against his shoulder and wrapping a hand around his waist.

“Felt good, baby?”

“Mm, s’good,” Jihoon sighed, hugging you tighter. Tonight was indeed productive. Not only did Jihoon get fucked up so good after so long, but he was also inspired by you(r red cock) and finally had a name for the track he'd been working on lately: Ruby.

[cheegu3]

Heyyy! Can you do a seventeen yandere reaction where they broke up with you but when you move on with a new guy, they kidnap you?

There's very limited yandere svt content 😭

ofc, here for my carats 🫡

some of them aren't actually kidnappings but more their actions leading up to it, I forgot the prompt halfway through writing and then didn't change it bc they might've been too similar otherwise, hope u don't mind <3

warnings; yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, jealousy, toxicity, kidnapping, blood, murder, graphic scenes, man-handling, drugging, violence, nudes, alcohol, forced kissing, objectification

note; (f.m reader)

Seventeen - kidnapping you when you move on with a new guy

S.coups

He took it cooly when you wanted to break up, or at least on the outside. With a scoff and roll of his eyes, he turned his back on you as you packed your things and left.

But in his chest, he felt a bitterness that made his jaw clench. A week passed during which he did everything to distract himself from thinking about you. Any time he wasn't occupied with something his mind began to obsessively wonder; Where is she? What is she doing? Who is she with?

Almost always these thoughts would disappear, however, as soon as he engaged in something stimulating, and during the second and third week since you broke up, it became a lot easier to deal with.

After a whole month, he comforted himself by rationalizing you'd never date someone that quickly, you weren't into hookups and rebounds and you weren't one for revenge either.

Imagine his surprise then when he walked with his friends during the night on one weekend in the second month as he spotted you far away.

His footsteps came to a halt leading his friends to look back at him in confusion. They followed his eyes, but didn't see what he saw, didn't understand the remnants of a story of heartbreak that formed on his face right in front of them.

'' What are you doing? ''

He blinked and slightly swayed forward awkwardly, brought back to earth as if he snapped out of a trance. For the rest of the day, he was off, he barely said anything and refused to tell his friends what was going on.

When the night came, S.coups followed you closely with his car. His fingers shook with rage, clenching around the steering wheel at the sight of you kissing another man before he drove off. Quickly he memorized his license plate and then drove to the front, a few meters ahead of where your boyfriend had stood.

He saw you eying the car and knew he only had a split second after recognition flashed across your face. He jumped and sprinted out of the car, you let out a yelp as you didn't even have time to turn away and run once you saw whose car it was.

You tried screaming, but it was muffled by something pressed against your mouth. It smelled strange, and the more you inhaled it, the dizzier you felt, until you couldn't control it anymore and fell into the darkness.

You awoke to someone playing with your hair, making you automatically squirm uncomfortably. Opening your eyes, you stared right at the face of your ex-boyfriend.

'' You kidnapped me? '' was the first thing you could think of saying, scoffing and sounding in disbelief.

He smiled flatly '' I had to. You weren't making me very happy.''

His cryptic message hung in the air as you thought over them, then it finally clicked.

'' You saw me? With...him? ''

'' Yes, you'll pay for that. But first I have to deal with him. Will you stay here and be good for me? '' he stood up abruptly and kissed your head, clearly not waiting for an answer.

'' Deal with him? What do you mean? '' your heartbeat picked up, but he only turned in the doorway to give you a smile, this time it was genuine, full of sick, sadistic joy.

'' Kill him, of course. ''

Jeonghan

He got very jealous when he saw you showing off your new partner all over social media. It felt like it was directed at him specifically, mocking him.

You were rubbing it in his face, how could he just sit still and let it happen?

Immediately Jeonghan went swiping on dating apps. It was easy for him to get matches with his good looks, and in an hour he had around a hundred. He texted one girl and asked to meet up.

Then he got her drunk and took some pictures while she was pretty out of it. While leaning on him for balance, he snapped a picture to make it look like they were hugging in the elevator.

In the car, he held her hand and asked her to kiss his cheek so he could have two other photos - one of them holding hands and the other with his cheek, sporting a red lipstick mark.

If that didn't work to catch your attention. He'd woo her into becoming his girlfriend. Everywhere he went, he'd bring her with him, and being hyper-aware of the cameras at all times, he skillfully knew the right moments to be sweet so people would upload it online.

He knew how comments got to you, so he'd make fake accounts writing comments that would compare you to his new girl. Then he waited. Very conveniently you were single about a month later.

The next day, his own breakup would make the headlines and he showed up at your house not long after.

'' Missed me? '' he cockily asked, leaning against the frame when you opened.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, but quietly gave an answer when you stepped out of the way so he could come in.

'' Knew it, '' he murmured victoriously to himself.

Little did you know that after that, there was no way in hell he'd let you leave. You became a prisoner in your own home.

Shouldn't have taken the bait.

Joshua

He heard of the news from one of the people working with him who he had forced to follow you around. Calm and collected, although anger was brewing underneath the surface, he came up with a plan.

His master plan was put into motion about two months after much careful detailing. It was that he'd manipulate you into feeling bad and choosing him over your boyfriend.

He started by blowing up your phone with messages as well as faking his mood in front of his friends. Since your friend group overlapped, he knew that they would likely tell you that he was acting a bit off.

You responded, according to his predictions, after he had met up with his friends.

Meeting in person, he leaned on you and sobbed heartbreakingly, putting his best acting performance on.

'' I can't live without you, y/n, I don't think you understand, '' he sobbed loudly and sniffled.

'' Joshua...I- '' you let out a long sigh, feeling caught in a dilemma with no clue what to do, '' I have a boyfriend now. ''

He had been waiting to hear that so he could make the final push. With blank eyes, he lifted his head to look at you, face showing nothing but pain.

'' Then...can you at least see me sometimes? Here, in this park. I need someone to talk to. ''

You chewed on your lip while considering it. Joshua saw your eyebrows knit and your gaze shift away from him right as your body moved an inch. He knew what he had to do.

'' I feel like I deserve it a little bit. You moved on so fast, it fucked me up, y/n, it feels like I didn't even exist at all, '' he purposefully broke his voice.

It had the effect he wanted it to. With shame painted all over, you agreed and from that day on, you met practically every day near that fountain - the one he had asked you out by.

After a month he asked his team to take a photo for him. Just before leaving he leaned in for a kiss and pressed your face against his so you couldn't escape. When releasing you, he looked very smug.

Your shouts after him went unheard as he felt like he was on top of the world. The photo of you and him kissing was naturally sent to your boyfriend.

Now he just had to wait until the evening when he'd coerce you into having dinner with him, then drug you and take you home.

Jun

Delusional and slightly aggressive as he was, he'd think at first that you would come back, you were simply just taking your time.

Maybe you needed to find the right words to say for when you would apologize, or you went to your friends who said that Jun as always, was the perfect boyfriend and that you were in the wrong for storming out shouting you wanted to break up after a fight.

Almost every night, he took a walk in your neighborhood and ate at the restaurants or shopped at your local corner store, trying to orchestrate a run-in with you. But strangely, he never saw you. You weren't even at the usual places you liked.

Then one rainy evening, he finally saw you and it was like the world stopped. He didn't see the people as he pushed through them to get to you.

With a big, bright smile on his face, he took a moment to return his breathing to normal before catching your attention.

'' y/n! ''

You flinched at the familiar voice that always made your blood freeze. But today of all days, it did so more than usual. Before you said it out loud, Jun seemed to catch on to the reason why. His eyes went to the man next to you, who had his arm interlinked with yours while he was busy looking at the shelves. Slowly, Jun's smile faded, and you feared the worst.

'' Let's go, there's a better shop a few blocks away. ''

it seemed that luck was not on your side. Although your ex stood frozen in shock while he processed what was going on, your new boyfriend looked up just in time to catch his eyes, and he would say just the wrong thing to make him tick and get into motion again.

'' Get your eyes off my girl, creep, '' he spat at him.

As if out of a movie, Jun immediately snapped out of being stun-locked and grabbed your boyfriend by the collar.

'' What the fuck did you just say to me? ''

There was no way he'd let you walk away with that guy. He didn't care if he had to call every person in his firm to help cover up the kidnapping. Without a care in the world, he'd drag you away right in front of everyone in broad daylight.

He didn't appreciate people stealing his things.

Hoshi

You wouldn't even get very far into that relationship until he found out and threatened both of you.

His anger exploded, all he saw was red when he knocked on your boyfriend's door. It doubled when your head popped up behind him, curiously seeing who would be ringing the doorbell so late.

Your eyes met and fear struck through you. With limbs frozen, your lips trembled when your boyfriend leaned back towards you to see if you knew him.

'' It's my ex, '' you whispered, completely mortified.

You could tell that he was fuming, anyone could really, he wasn't even trying to conceal it. His veins popped along his neck and arms, and he was scowling uncomfortably.

Your boyfriend instinctively pulled you behind him, wrong move. It only made Hoshi even angrier; seeing that man treat you like you were his, when you belonged to someone else, and you - you were accepting it.

He bit down on his lips hard until he could taste metal. Did you even like it? '' You bitch, '' he screamed, staring directly at you.

'' Get the fuck out of my house. ''

His eyes slowly moved over to your boyfriend. At this point, you were almost certain that if he charged forward, tried to hurt you, or dragged you away - your body would give in, legs having been turned to jelly.

The look on his face, of disgust and so much contempt for a stranger made you shudder. He looked like he wasn't going down without a fight.

'' Sure, '' he sneered, '' this might be your house, but she's mine, so we're leaving. ''

He attempted to reach his arm forward and grab your wrist but was stopped by your boyfriend grabbing him instead. There was something unsettling that made your hairs stand up when Hoshi gave him one last look and quietly exited, murmuring under his breath,

'' You'll regret this. ''

It frightened you so much more because you'd never seen him like that. You had predicted that he would lose his temper like usual and beat him up.

This was worse, so much worse.

Hoshi went to his car and got his weapons, ready to take you back by force.

Wonwoo

Since he was a bit of a sadistic type of yandere, he'd take great pleasure in carefully planning how to get revenge and also get you back to him.

For months, he watched you while you went on dates, holding himself back from losing control completely. He noted characteristics in your new boyfriend and then slowly started talking to you again, pretending like he had changed.

He lied and said he was going to therapy and that he had to make amends with the people he'd hurt in the past. His cold and cruel personality became hidden behind his soft, nice, and gentle fake one.

And of course, you would fall for it, there was no manipulator nor actor as good as him.

One summer night, approximately six months after you and your boyfriend started dating, Wonwoo invited you to dinner. He insisted you had to come because he was moving away and wouldn't be able to see you anymore.

You were hesitant, but your boyfriend liked him and thought he was genuinely sorry so he told you to go. Slowly, you stalked towards the building.

It was a rooftop restaurant, a very expensive one that he had rented out. There were no people there and you didn't even see any staff around, that made your stomach turn for some reason.

He was sitting on the balcony, back turned and with a glass in his hand, he was smiling, unknown to you the first genuine one he'd had in six months. Today was special - today he was truly happy.

'' Hi. ''

'' Hi, sorry. I've already started without you. ''

'' Am I late? ''

The corners of his lips pulled up and he lowered his eyes, as if he was laughing about something to himself that was a secret.

'' No. I just had some things to do first. ''

It felt a bit awkward when you sat down, like the air was different than when you two usually met up. He was less talkative, with no mention of his latest therapy session or showing any interest in you.

After only half an hour which was filled with mostly silence, he surprised you when he said, '' Do you want me to walk you to your car?''

A laugh in disbelief slipped out.

'' What? Are you serious? I just got here. ''

'' And now I've seen you, so you can go. ''

Your face turned sour. Hearing that familiar tone on him again made you get reminded of the Wonwoo from the past. You wondered at that moment if he had actually changed at all. His face was void of the fake warmth he usually radiated.

However, you still nodded at last, feeling like he was in a bit of a snappy mood so pressing his buttons was not a good idea. He walked a respectful distance behind you, yet hurried in front to open the doors and press the elevator button.

His presence oddly felt like it was becoming darker as you approached your car, closing in on you the closer you were within grasp of safety. It must've been paranoia, but, did his footsteps quicken?

Intentionally, the last few steps you half-ran to your car and then put one hand up on the roof casually to hide the sudden fear that had struck you. You turned towards him and gave him a meek smile.

'' Thank you, for the dinner and walking me back. ''

He didn't smile back so yours faded as that feeling of something being wrong only grew. You turned away from him to get the car keys out and knew immediately that he was standing right behind you.

You tried to turn but were grabbed from behind, one hand over your mouth and the other on the side of your face. That was the last thing you remembered before your head was smashed against the car and you became unconscious, one with the darkness.

Woozi

He's a cold man with rarely any other expressions on his stoic face than anger. He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of even seeing that this time though, knowing you were trying to antagonize him by holding hands with your boyfriend; pointedly walking past his company's building hoping he'd see you.

You looked up and by chance stared right into his eyes while your gaze was wandering from floor to floor, trying to find him.

He was standing with his arms behind his back, looking down on you calmly. You couldn't read his face and were left confused when he raised his eyebrow slightly before turning around and leaving.

Even on the inside, he felt relatively calm. He was ten steps ahead and already had a plan so sure, you could have your little fun - enjoy it while it lasted.

That same evening, you woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Your hand searched the cold sheets in the dark, only to find that you were alone.

With a frown, you hurried to turn on the light. You almost jumped up in shock, letting out a small gasp and clutching your racing heart.

Were you imagining things or was that the outline of a person in the dark, illuminated by the bedside lamp?

You took a few quick breaths and then tiptoed over to the light switch.

'' one, two...three, '' you flipped it on, and right as you did so, the shadow seemed to move towards you.

The room lit up and you were once again face to face with Woozi. You screamed and tried to turn away, despite having nowhere to run or hide.

He caught you very easily and pushed you by the throat against the wall.

'' Where is he? '' you intuitively knew he had something to do with your boyfriend's disappearance.

His face finally showed emotion. His eyes sparkled with sinister glee while the shadow of a smirk played on his lips.

'' I paid him to leave you. ''

Your heart dropped. '' What? What do you mean? He would never... '' you trailed off, feeling disheartened by his unbreaking gaze.

He wasn't lying to you. Your boyfriend had actually left you for money. Filled with despair, your legs gave in and you sank to the floor where Woozi picked you up, ready to carry you back home.

DK

He would know you liked the guy you were friends with even before you did. Always lurking in the shadows, one step behind you after your breakup. He picked up on the way you changed in front of his eyes, just like you had when you were falling for him.

It broke his heart. Seeing your gaze soften just like how he was used to. Seeing you shyly look away, feeling the blush on your cheeks, and seeing the way you couldn't stop smiling to yourself afterward.

DK didn't hate you for it, he just couldn't. It wasn't your fault that you found the countless pictures he had kept stacked away, ones of you before you'd even started dating.

It wasn't your fault that this seemingly perfect guy swept in at the right time and became a shoulder you could lean on.

It was him he hated and he would do anything to get rid of him.

He didn't care if he succeeded and you still wanted nothing to do with him, it didn't matter. What mattered most was that DK would never have to watch with a face of disgust again when the guy tried flirting with you.

One week he had seen enough and started planning on how to get rid of him. He was careful, not missing a single detail for fear of getting caught.

After your date at the carnival with the guy, he was supposed to drive you home. Everyone had already left since DK had rented the park and told everyone else it closed a lot earlier than it did.

You tried the gate but it wouldn't budge. The guy laughed at you, like he thought you were just pretending to be cute however, when he tried pulling the gate, he had the same result.

'' That's weird. ''

You looked around a saw a man in the carnival workers' clothes and went to tap him on the shoulder for help. He turned around slowly for the dramatic effect and sneered when you screamed loudly and almost fell.

It was your ex, DK. He stalked closer towards you, bent down, and stroked his fingers against your cheek which almost made you feel nauseous. Just when you thought he'd get closer, he got up again and ran for the guy.

He stood frozen in fear and before any of you had time to react, you suddenly just heard a squelching sound as a groan came from him. Then he fell down.

You tried to get up and see what was wrong with him, that was when you spotted the scarlet blood. Another scream of horror ripped from your throat.

Mingyu

Overcome with jealousy, he doxxed you so his sasaengs would go after you; as well as writing hateful, untrue remarks about you cheating on him.

Knowing your house would be swarmed, he started lurking near it to see if anyone would go in. During the first month, it was pretty calm except for some people breaking windows, egging, and writing things on the walls.

But during the second, one person broke in while you weren't home. Mingyu felt very pleased, knowing it was only a matter of time now until he could orchestrate the perfect way to get you back.

That opportunity came a lot sooner than he'd thought. At the end of the second month, the same girl tried breaking in. Curiously he peeked closer like a cat and followed her all the way into the entrance where he saw a van parked.

Moving figures inside made him come to the conclusion that they were either there to hurt you, kill you, or kidnap you.

He smiled to himself, this was perfect.

He crept closer, clutching his concealed weapon inside his jacket. For a moment he hesitated, but then you walked past your bedroom window, and by chance, he saw you, so he bit down the fear and slid the van door open.

The people screamed and jumped back when they saw Mingyu holding a knife. He swung it at the closest person, managing to strike them across the arm. The victim let out a bloodcurling scream which Mingyu hurried to muffle with his hand.

'' Leave, now, '' he said gravely.

They didn't need to be told twice. One of the men stood up and with shaky legs, he hesitantly approached the steering wheel.

'' Hurry up! ''

The man jumped and became much faster at getting the keys in and then turning it, he gave one last glance back and stepped on the gas pedal, speeding off.

Mingyu caught the girl running out with you at that moment, seeing where the noise was coming from. Unfortunately for her, all she'd see was an empty parking lot.

She didn't even get to see her attacker, arriving from behind and slitting her throat in one swift movement. He put on his best act when he took your hand and told you to run.

Shaken up, you did so without looking back and you hadn't even registered it was Mingyu who had saved you until you'd run a safe distance to catch your breaths.

When you crouched down, lungs burning with fatigue, you took a glance at your hero and almost choked. '' Mingyu? ''

He feigned an innocent look. '' Sorry, we were going past here and I saw what was happening. ''

It was the cheapest lie ever, but he couldn't come up with anything better, and at that moment you were just happy to be alive and felt like you didn't want to be alone. You let yourself be driven to his house, unknown to you, that was very much his plan.

The8

Smart as he was, he knew you'd never agree to meet up with him if he texted you again, after you dumped him callously. So he made a plan to make you swipe right on a guy he hired.

He was the perfect guy, so the chances of you not swiping on him were slim. Sneakily he tried to influence your mutual friends to talk to you about using a dating app and to his surprise, and disappointment, it wasn't long before you did so.

Throughout it all, Minghao was watching over the man's shoulder, making sure he wasn't actually flirting with you and doing it with amusement, since you were still his at the end of the day.

He did, however, get some sadistic enjoyment out of you sending nudes about a week into his plan; knowing he could use that to punish you later and that he had a backup plan to blackmail you if this one failed.

Feeling completely confident in himself, he pressured it to move faster and eventually set up a date. You were excited, telling all of your friends about it, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after being scared of dating again after Minghao.

You took a long time getting ready when the night came around. Your ex watching outside could practically feel his eyes roll to the back of his head as you tried on yet another dress.

Almost running late you ran out of the door, only a meter from where he was standing. He had been in a trance for a few minutes, daydreaming about you, and didn't notice you had left your apartment. But luckily, with the date and nerves on your mind, you didn't see him so he could quietly follow you again.

Like rehearsed, the guy gave you a hug and flashed a big friendly smile to you when you met in front of the restaurant. Then you went up. Minghao had rented a rooftop one, all to yourselves for the evening - easier and more impressive but also easier for other reasons.

He let the illusion play for a few more minutes before walking out from behind the curtains at the entrance. Watching you look so head over heels for that guy made him feel sick.

'' I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, '' he coyly said, dragging a chair over to your table and sitting down.

You felt your fight or flight kicking in the moment you heard his cruel, familiar voice. After hearing it taunt you every morning for the past year, who could really blame you though?

You forced yourself to look at him after your gaze tried desperately to look anywhere else, you wanted to show that you weren't afraid of him anymore.

But that wasn't very believable, you both knew that, and Minghao had to suppress a laugh while looking away to not embarrass you further.

'' Well, '' he dragged out as if he was just bored, '' Time to go home then. Are you done? ''

Slowly, you stood up and grabbed the table to stabilize your legs. Once they stopped shaking, you were hit by a sudden surge of courage. '' No, '' you firmly spat out.

A deafening silence filled the room and the tension rose with every second he didn't respond. Even the guy he hired shifted his weight uncomfortably.

'' Let's go. I'm not dealing with your brattiness now, save it for later. ''

He was about to turn when you shook your head and started running with all your might in the opposite direction. Minghao only needed to give the man one look before he ran after you.

You heard his panting behind you and knew the end was near. You didn't even get to reach the elevator. Being pulled backward violently, you fell on your back and let out a scream, soon to be muffled by an angry Minghao stepping over you and covering it while the guy held you down.

'' You will regret this, I'll make sure of it. ''

Seungkwan

If you dared date anyone else after him, you could be sure to expect a very unpleasant surprise not too long after, and you did.

You were constantly on your toes, waiting for the other shoe to drop since you knew Seungkwan would be fuming and getting revenge after the photos of you and your boyfriend spread at school.

The anxiety added on top of the stress from the new attention you were getting, as well as the heaps of school work you had behind due to being away from school so much the year before. It was so unbearable that you were almost relieved when the shoe finally dropped.

But when you saw what it was, you changed your mind immediately. On Monday morning you went to school as usual, avoiding people's eyes and trying to quietly enter the building without drawing too much attention. That day, things were different from the start.

As soon as you came within a radius of the school, you heard people loudly whisper around you and when you raised your head, realized they were talking about you.

One of them was holding a phone and kept glancing down at it and then laughing when looking at you. Keeping your head down you sped up and were about to go up the stairs to the main entrance when you heard even more people doing the same thing.

You closed your eyes and swallowed the nervousness, walked over to them, and asked to see their phones. Not waiting for an answer, you eventually snatched it out of their hands and stared at the screen.

Everyone watched your face drop in silence, awkwardly moving around and whispering to each other. On the screen, a naked photo of you stared back at you and the more you stared the more you felt freaked out.

You handed it back and ran without looking back. It felt too humiliating to go to school like that. At your door, he was there, waiting - your ex, Seungkwan.

He stood cooly leaning back against the wall near your apartment and moved when he saw you running at full speed.

'' Hey, you okay? '' he faked his naiveity.

You opened your mouth but closed it again, feeling the tears clouding your vision. He came over and shushed you, pulling you in towards his chest.

His familiar scent unexpectedly made you cry even harder. Without meaning to, you had leaned into the touch and grabbed onto him, like he was your only hope at the moment; instead of what you should've done to the devil, pushed him away.

He couldn't help himself from crushing you even further, leaning down, he lowly said, '' You've made my job too easy. ''

You were about to ask what he meant by that as you blinked up at him with your tear-stained eyes but he didn't let you get a word in. Instead, he pushed your head against the wall with such force that it knocked you out immediately.

When he lifted you up with ease and began making his way to his car, he whispered your silent question out loud, '' Taking what is mine back. ''

Vernon

The first thing he'd do to get you back would be to smooth talk his way into persuading you to break up with your new boyfriend and go back to him.

Vernon would make your memories sound much better than they were, him sweeter in his words, and his punishments less harsh than you remembered. '' It was a long time ago, that's not how I remember it, '' would be a classic of his.

As hard as he tried though, he almost had to hold himself back from letting the anger show. After months of you not doing what he wanted you to, he started to think you were just stupid. But, suppressing his arrogant scoffs, he instead made up a new plan.

It was quicker, sure, but he'd have to put in a lot of work afterward to get on your good side again. Right then, he didn't care since he just wanted to have you back in his bed again, with him and not with that loser of a boyfriend you had.

Vernon arranged everything and paid the right people so he could just sit back and wait.

It wouldn't take long until they were back. He gladly welcomed them and got up purposefully so that he could tower over your cowering form on the floor.

For a second, he saw the fear in your eyes disappear as you saw it was him. He suppressed a laugh. Guess if the devil is familiar, demons are more terrifying. You must've been scared of what those strangers would do to you. But you saw his reaction and quickly tried putting on a brave face.

'' I hate you, '' you said, almost to make sure he knew that you weren't there on your own accord.

'' I know, '' he said simply. '' I made you that way. ''

Dino

On the way home from a dance practice, Dino caught a glimpse of someone who looked just like you. Maybe he was delusional, he'd been missing you so much lately, but he got out and started following her.

Even if it wasn't you, he might ask for her number. He was so obsessed with you that anything and anyone that reminded him of you sufficed until he had finally found you, even if he had to go to the ends of the earth to do so.

Rounding the corner he stopped in his tracks and felt disappointed when he saw the girl throw her arms around a guy.

It wasn't you. His girl wouldn't do that, you wouldn't do that. He was just about to turn when the girl turned her head slightly.

It was you.

His stomach dropped and he had to stabilize himself against a wall until his world had stopped spinning. How could you?

He glanced up again and felt his breath hitch. You weren't there anymore. Without caring if anyone could see him he walked out into the open, right where you'd been standing, and by luck he managed to catch the sight of you just as you were turning down a secluded road.

Dino ran after, his passion evident in his carelessness to conceal the sound of his footsteps or the pants escaping his mouth. You and your boyfriend heard him very clearly when he followed you into that dark alleyway.

No streetlights were near the entrance of it, so you couldn't see the face of the person nearing you.

'' Who is it? '' you tried, backing behind your boyfriend.

'' Stay here. ''

He went up to talk to the guy. A few seconds of silence passed between them. You couldn't tell if they recognized each other or not. However, everything moved very quickly after that.

Before you even had the chance to react or see who it was, your boyfriend fell down without a sound after it looked like he had been hit with something by the stranger. You yelped as he went for you next. He pushed you against the wall and covered your mouth.

'' Guess who? '' he half-whispered creepily, sending shivers down your spine.

It sounded familiar but it took a few seconds for you to place the voice. '' Is it...'' you trailed off.

You gasped and he snickered, '' Hope you missed me. ''

[homunculus-argument]

Before I got my shit together, I used to drink. Like, a lot. I wouldn't say I was an alcoholic, but there were times when I would spend days, sometimes weeks, just laying in bed drunk. Doing whatever bare minimum I needed to do to keep the lights on and myself somewhat passably alive, but other than that, I'd just be drunk. For days on end. Having the few beers left over from the night before for breakfast before having to get up to go get more. It wasn't good.

That would last for days or weeks at a time, but eventually I'd always come to the point where I realised that I just felt like shit. I felt like shit when I was sober, but the drinking bouts always halted when I noticed that I felt just as bad when I was drunk. I guess that's why I wouldn't say I was an alcoholic. I could just look at what I'm doing, and see that it was pointless. I was just wasting time and money giving myself organ damage, and it wasn't even making me feel any better anymore.

I had a routine for coming out of it. I would change my bedsheets, and air out my blankets and pillows if I could. I'd take a very, very long and thorough-scrubbing shower, as much of an exfoliating deep clean wash with conditioner and clipping my nails and everything. The stench of old booze doesn't come out of you before you've sweat it out of your pores - of course I knew I still reeked, but at least I smelled like I had tried. I would get dressed in completely new and clean clothes, and head to the library. I would borrow some comics, go buy myself a little treat of some sort on my way back home and then sit in my bed, clean and curled up in my clean sheets, having a snack and reading comics.

The frist time I got a flu after getting sober, I first mistook it for burnout or a bout of worsening depression, before my partner pointed out that neither of those cause a runny nose and a fever. Whatever it was, it lasted about a week and a half. And once I felt better, like a clockwork, I changed my sheets, took a thorough shower, got myself dressed in clean clothes, and wanted to go to the library.

I was already back at home, sitting on my clean bed having a little treat and reading my comics, when it occurred to me that I had just completely automatically completed my getting-sober-routine, over a flu, without even thinking about it. So I sat there for a moment, thinking about it. I thought about how fucking weird that was, for long enough that it wasn't weird anymore. Of course I would do that. That's what I do when I'm starting to feel better. It's my recovery routine.

That's what I do when I'm not sick anymore.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 5 (Rumba Part 1)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 9.5k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not from Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: “Are we talking about orgasms right now?”

Dieter’s POV  By the time we got to the hotel, I felt like a zombie and was beyond ready to pass out.  My patience was wearing thin with the clerk at the check-in desk as she went into a rehearsed speech about the amenities that the hotel offered. I was having none of it and completely cut her off. “I’m sorry, we’ve just gotten off a five hour flight. We really just wanna sleep right now.”

She gave me a bright smile, “Totally understandable Mr. Bravo. So, you’ll be staying in the South Loft on the 16th floor. The elevators are just over there. Do you need help with your bags?”

I shook my head as Kat began to tap on the countertop. She seemed just as impatient as she asked, “I’m sorry, but where will my room be?”

The desk clerk looked between the two of us somewhat nervously, “Well, you’re both in the South Loft.”  

My brows furrowed. Did I hear that right? No fucking way. 

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, glancing over at Kat. She looked like she was going to be sick.  

The hotel clerk stammered, “You were b-both booked in the South Loft. Is that not right?”  

“We can’t share a room,” Kat interjected, wide-eyed as she shook her head.  

The clerk looked almost relieved at Kat’s words, “No. I-It’s a two-bedroom suite with shared common space. You’ll each have your own bedroom and bathroom.” 

I relaxed some. I could handle that if Kat were ok with it. Not that I would have minded sharing a room with her either, but I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.  

I watched the tension leave Kat’s body, “I guess that would be ok…it’s no different than being across the hall from each other. Right?” she asked, meeting my gaze.  

I shrugged, “I’m fine with whatever makes you comfortable.” 

Kat nodded, “Yeah, I think that’ll be ok. I can deal with that.” 

The front desk clerk looked relieved now, giving us a tentative smile. “Ok. Great. The only other thing I wanted to mention is that one of our conference spaces, the Harbor Room, was booked for the entire week as well. You can access it as needed.”  

I gave her a tired smile, “Sounds great. We’ll worry about that later, I need sleep.”  

I grabbed my key card, turned, and walked off without another word. I heard Kat snort behind me, I assume over my abruptness. She murmured a quick “thank you” to the desk clerk before catching up to me. We were quiet as we waited for the elevator. I stole a few glances in Kat’s direction. She was staring at the floor, seemingly lost in her thoughts until the ding of the elevator door opening caught her attention. When we stepped into the elevator, I noticed she was avoiding my gaze.  

“Are you sure you’re ok with sharing a suite? I can get a separate room.”  

She nodded, “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I swear. I’m just tired and achy. I need to stretch out and relax.”   

The doors opened to our floor, and we quickly found our way to our suite. We both stood in the center of the living room area taking it in. It was a lot bigger than I was expecting.  

“Wow. This is…fucking huge.” Kat said in disbelief. 

I chuckled, “Yeah, and here I was worried we were gonna be cramped in on top of each other.”  

Kat’s mouth hung open slightly, before laughing nervously. “Yeah, I guess that won’t be a problem.”  

I dropped my duffle and moved to check out the two bedrooms, realizing the second one seemed to be a master. “This one has a big ass soaking tub in it. You take it.”  

She looked like she was about to argue, but I cut her off. “No, you take it. I won’t use it.” 

She smiled gratefully, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”  

I walked over, grabbed Kat’s bag off her shoulder and the rolling suitcase standing beside her and moved to deposit them in the master bedroom as she gave me a disapproving look. She walked in behind me, arms crossed over her chest as she looked around the room. Her eyes were drawn upward to the reflective metal panels on the ceiling that might as well be mirrors. Her brows furrowed, “That’s a little extra.”  

I snorted out a laugh, “Adds to the entertainment value of the space, I’m sure.”  

She arched a brow in my direction, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes looked me up and down. What’s going through your head right now? There was something about the way she looked at me. It had my thoughts going straight to the gutter. The gutter that had what equates to a mirrored ceiling. I felt my dick twitch. So much for being tired.  

Her smirk shifted to a smile, “I’m sure it does.”  

She turned and walked out into the living room area, and I followed. She paused, staring toward the corner nearest to the room I planned to take. I glanced in the same general direction, my eyes landing on the rolling bar cart. She shook her head, “I’ll take care of that. Go get some rest. You’re gonna need it more than me.”  

I moved to her side, “You really don’t have to worry about that. It doesn’t bother me.”  

She shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. The studio should’ve made sure that stuff was removed. Last thing you need is the hotel staff spreading gossip. Now…go sleep.”  

She wasn’t wrong. I loved that she cared enough to think of that. I nodded, agreeing with her assessment, “Yes ma’am.”  

I grabbed my bags, lugging them toward my room, then turned on my heel, “Oh umm, it looks like I need to be at the studio around noon to start reviewing the skits. I’d love it if you would join me. I wouldn’t mind having your input.”  

Her eyes widened in surprise at my request. A small smile crept across her face as she nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”  

I gave her a toothy grin in response. I rubbed the back of my neck and looked down at the ground, now feeling a little nervous. “Alright. Great. Imma go to sleep then. I’ll probably get up around 10.”  

I was suddenly feeling awkward and out of my element. Sharing a space with someone was a whole new experience for me and I wasn’t sure what the proper protocols were. I abruptly turned and headed toward my room, momentarily struggling to get my luggage through the doorway. I thought I heard Kat snicker behind me as I shut the door.  

My room wasn’t as extravagant as Kat’s. It didn’t have a soaking tub or reflective ceiling, but it had a plushy king bed and TV, which was all I needed. After a quick bathroom break, I undressed down to my boxer briefs and climbed into bed. I was so fucking exhausted, but I couldn’t turn my mind off. So much had transpired in the past week - in the past few hours even. I couldn’t help analyzing it all.  

I wondered what happened between Kat and Alec. She had been acting odd since Thursday, so I figured whatever happened had to have been around that time. I was tempted to ask her that morning but didn’t want to pry. As long as she seemed ok physically, I could handle waiting until she was ready to talk about it.  

She surprised me later that evening. I had been working on another painting (of her) when the Instagram likes started to roll in. I wasn’t sure how to take it. How did she end up on my page? Did a random post pop up in her feed and she went from there? Or had she been thinking about me and sought it out? I smiled to myself, deciding to be bold and return the favor, going through and liking all of her posts, except the ones that Alec was in. Fuck that guy. I wondered, no hoped, that it would spark a response from her. I was not disappointed.    

What followed had me feeling equal parts giddy and so fucking turned on. I knew that I was probably pushing it with the subtle flirting, but she was completely into it. I don’t think she would have sent me the picture of her wet and bare soap covered legs if she hadn’t been. When that text came through, I stopped breathing and got hard instantly. It was so unexpected, and immediately had my mind wondering what sex with her would be like. That was all quickly shut down when she went cold on me, ending the conversation abruptly. It threw me off my game and took me back to wondering what was going on with her. My only conclusion, there was trouble in paradise, and she wanted out and didn’t really know how to handle things. I could work with that. I could be patient and wait for her. She could take all the time she needed and if she wanted to engage in a little harmless flirting in the meantime, I was here for it.  

I got the call about SNL the following morning. As excited as I was about the opportunity, my only thoughts were of Kat. My priority was dancing with her, and I made that known. Lenny was convinced he could make both things happen, so he reached out to Stacia and Joe. They were willing to play, but at what cost? And did I really care if it meant I got to do it with Kat? No, I didn’t. When Lenny called back with a half-concocted plan, I was beyond ecstatic that it was even a possibility, but only because it meant spending a week in New York with Kat. I had honestly expected her to turn it down and had already resigned myself to that fact. Especially if there was some sort of drama going on with her and Alec. I knew she wouldn’t want to leave town in the middle of that.  

However, she didn’t turn it down. I could tell as soon as she walked into the rehearsal studio that she had made a decision and was avoiding the topic. Her playful expression made me think that perhaps she was going to accept the offer, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. The torture of waiting for her to finally answer me was almost agonizing. The moment the smile spread across her face; I knew. There was something about her that morning, her entire vibe had shifted, and I couldn’t really pinpoint how or why.

After that, it felt like the wall between us was beginning to crumble even faster. Of course I didn’t try to stop it, if anything, I tried to help dismantle it a little faster. I had definitely been pushing the boundaries, but she wasn’t giving me any indications that it bothered her. There were even some instances where it felt like she had gotten out her own little hammer and chisel to help bring it down on her side. I could see it in the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying any attention or in the way she responded to my blatant flirting. She was definitely interested but holding back.  

While we were in hair and makeup for Monday’s show, it really hit me that whatever had happened between Kat and Alec was a big deal this time. The way she reacted to his presence really jarred me and I wanted so badly to pull her into my arms to comfort her. There wasn’t really anything I could do without calling attention to us though. I had been meaning to ask her about being Zee’s secondary contact for several days, so I thought that might serve as a nice distraction, and also act as a cover for the emotional moment she was having.  

The distraction seemed to do the trick. She appeared to be much more relaxed after that, ignoring his presence until we left the room. I took her hand once we entered the hallway, immediately noticing that she still had her engagement ring on. I would be lying if I said my stomach didn’t have a sinking feeling with that realization. My first thought was that I had misread things, thinking it wasn’t as bad as I had thought.  

She shocked me after that, pulling me into a tight embrace just outside of her dressing room and thanking me for getting her through whatever that episode was. The way she nuzzled into my neck and inhaled deeply said so much. She felt comfortable and safe with me. I could sense it and took pride in it. I knew she didn’t feel that with Alec, the one person who should be able to give her that much and it made me absolutely sick. I made a point not to leave her side after that. Something was obviously going on and I didn’t want to leave her to deal with it alone.  

The tension between Kat and Alec seemed to be reaching a boiling point during the professionals' dress rehearsal. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I could see them having some sort of exchange in the middle of the dance floor. For once, Alec actually looked unsure of himself. I could tell Kat had put him in his place based on his body language - flinching at her words. I felt a surge of pride in the moment. I was proud of her for having the courage to stand up to him. I just hoped he wouldn’t try to take it out on her later.  

Kat seemed to be more at ease and fully focused on our performance after that. We got through it, receiving high scores again. I was excited about the scores, but my mind was more focused on what came after - leaving with Kat for a week in New York. It was all I could think about as I moved around my dressing room, changing and packing up the things I needed to take with me.  

I moved to crack the door open for Kat to come in when she was ready and overheard one of the other couples in the hallway saying something about Kat and Alec arguing. I felt a rush of panic as I pulled the door open further only to have the two of them turn to look at me with wide eyes. When I looked down toward Kat’s dressing room door, I saw Alec’s retreating form going in the opposite direction. I hurried down the hall, texting Kat as I went asking her to let me in. So many things went through my mind during those seconds. All of the worst-case scenarios of how he possibly could have hurt her.    

She seemed ok when she opened the door. However, that didn’t do anything to dampen my concern. I could see how upset she was, and I wanted to do nothing more than hold her and make it all go away. I didn’t hesitate to pull her into my arms, causing the tension to disappear from her body. I hugged her tightly, getting lost in her scent and how amazing it felt to hold her in such an intimate way. I wanted that with her. I wanted her, in every way.  

I was equally parts pissed and elated when I got the text that our ride to the airport had arrived. I didn’t want to let her go, but I also wanted to get her as far away from Alec as possible. During the ride, I could sense that Kat seemed lost in her thoughts. I reached over to give her hand a comforting squeeze, immediately realizing that something was missing. My thumb seemed to have a mind of its own as it rubbed over her knuckles. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me as my eyes dropped down to look at her hand, needing to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. The ring was gone. The ring that had been on her finger during every second that we had spent together was really gone.

When my eyes finally met her gaze, I nearly got lost in the emotions swirling there as my own threatened to swallow me whole. I turned to look out the window, worried she could hear all of the thoughts screaming at me in my head. This was a big fucking deal. She was finally done with him. It was over. Would she be willing to give me a chance now? Could I be good enough for her? Did I even deserve her? I had so many thoughts and feelings within a span of 30 seconds that it nearly gave me whiplash. I knew that I couldn’t possibly be worthy of her, but I would absolutely never stop trying to be.  

I moved to lace my fingers through the tops of hers, hoping it conveyed what I was feeling. I never wanted to let go, and I never would as long as she allowed me to hold on. At that moment, I knew this week was going to change things between us in a big way. There was no way it couldn’t. Add this revelation to the fact that we had been given one of the most intimate dances to rehearse for this week and I knew I was a goner. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold out, but I also needed to make sure that things moved at Kat’s pace. I didn’t want to scare her off by moving too fast. I was also afraid that she would turn me down. If that happened, it could possibly ruin everything and reinforce that wall between us that we had both been so diligently chipping away at.  

As I laid in bed, willing my mind to turn off, my final thoughts were of what the week would bring. How was this going to go? I had a feeling the dance rehearsals were going to be very different and would end up being our downfall. We would be able to completely lose ourselves in the emotions of the dance without the worry about prying eyes from passer byers. Without that tiny barrier to hold me back, I wasn’t sure how long I could hold out before making my feelings known. The prospect of that both excited me and freaked me the fuck out. I just hoped I didn’t blow it.  

When my alarm went off, it took me a minute to remember where I was. I had completely knocked out and slept hard. I sat up, feeling groggy and hot under the heavy duvet. I turned, planting my feet on the floor, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Ugh, what have you gotten yourself into, Bravo.”  

I could already feel my anxiety ramping up, worried about how things were going to go with the SNL cast. Last time I was on the show, I hadn’t exactly made the best impression. Even though the episode received all sorts of attention for my performance, things behind the scenes were rough. At least from what little I could remember. I was pretty out of it for most of that week, turning up late or not at all on the days I was too coked out. I’m also fairly certain I was a dick to several of the cast members. Yet, like always, I pulled it together for the final performance and killed it, to everyone’s shock.  

I had an ulterior motive for asking Kat to come with me. I was nervous as fuck about how this was going to go. I thought it might be nice to have someone there I knew who would be supportive and maybe even act as a buffer with the rest of the cast. She had a way of bringing out the best side of me too, and I was going to need all the help I could get in that area. I wanted so badly to make a good impression and to make up for the chaos that I caused last time. I knew that wasn’t going to be easy.  

After pulling myself up off the bed, I took a quick shower, which helped alleviate the grogginess I was feeling. I made a point to dress nice and fix my hair. I even threw on a little cologne. Last time I was here, I showed up at the studio in my pajamas and robe, looking like the hot mess that I was. I wanted to make sure to make a point that that guy was no longer present. I’d be lying if I said it was all for work though. I wanted to look good for Kat too. Now that Alec is out of the picture, I couldn’t help hoping that she might actually give me a chance if I played my cards right.  

Once I was finished getting ready, I walked out into the living room area to find Kat unloading some breakfast items onto the dining table. I furrowed my brows, “Didn’t you get any sleep?”  

She shook her head, still looking down at the bag as she pulled food out, “Not really. I tried for like an hour, then gave up. I got us some breakfast and coffee.”  

I moved to stand next to her, surveying the breakfast options she had just laid out. When I glanced back in her direction, I realized her eyes were slowly taking me in. Her gaze eventually met my raised brows. Her cheeks flushed as she chuckled nervously, “That shirt fits you well,” she finally said after a moment. I smirked, then pulled her in against my side. 

“Don’t be embarrassed that you got caught checking me out, fine art is meant to be appreciated.” 

She snorted as she leaned into me further, “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you.” 

I chuckled and shrugged as she reached across me to grab her coffee from the table, pausing momentarily before grabbing it. She gave me an odd look as she righted herself. My brows furrowed, “Something wrong?”  

She shook her head as her cheeks reddened once again, turning away abruptly to go sit on the other side of the table where the top was clear. She looked a little flustered, finally breaking her silence to ask what the plan was for the day. That’s interesting behavior for her… 

I pursed my lips, pulling my phone out of my pocket, “Well, according to my ridiculously detailed calendar, it looks like we’ll review the skits first and decide which ones we wanna do, then have a quick table read. I’m sure we’ll probably discuss the monologue too…and after that I have a photoshoot so they can get their promos going. We should be able to rehearse some after that.”  

Her brows pinched together, “And how many skits do you have to review?”  

I grimaced, “We usually start with 40 or 50 and have to narrow it down to eight. They sent them ahead since I’m getting a late start though. I read through them on the plane…assuming everyone else got them early, I don’t think it’ll take that long to narrow it down. Some of them are pretty terrible if I’m being honest.” 

She snickered as she took a sip of her coffee. I sighed, sitting down across from her to start working on some sort of egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich concoction that actually turned out to be pretty good. I was trying to not think about how the day was going to go but failing. I could feel my nervousness creeping up on me again.  

Before I knew it, our driver had arrived to take us to Studio 8H to get the day started. My anxiety levels were through the roof after we got into the back of the SUV. Kat picked up on it almost immediately since I couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. She reached over, grabbing my hand as it rubbed at my thigh. “Are you ok?” she asked. 

I shook my head, “Nope. Not at all. I’m freaking out a little actually…”  

Her eyes softened, “What’s the matter?” 

I chuckled nervously, “So many things…this is the first job I’ve done completely clean. When I was high, I didn’t really give a fuck about how it went. I do give a fuck now…a big fuck. What if I can’t do this without the drugs to chill me out.”  

I could feel the panic setting in now. I hadn’t felt this in a long time, and it was freaking me out a little. I thought for sure my heart was going to pound out of my chest. Get your shit together, Bravo.  

“There’s also the fact that I was a complete asshole last time I was on the show. I know half the cast hate me. I’m sure they’re expecting more of the same nonsense. That’s why I was so shocked they asked me to come back. They had to be desperate.”  

She sighed, squeezing my hand a little tighter, “Stop talking like this, you don’t know that. You’re too hard on yourself.”  

I felt her shift beside me before reaching to cup my chin to turn my face toward her, “Also, it’s not your first job since being clean…dancing was and you’re totally kicking ass at that.” 

I scoffed, “Yeah, but that’s with you. You make it easy.” You make everything better.  

She smiled, “And I’m here with you now. What can I do to help?”  

She took my hand in both of hers, gently stroking the palm with her fingertips. It wasn’t much, but I could already feel myself calming under her touch. I also found the sight of her bare ring finger to be distracting for a brief moment.  

I shook my head, “I think just having you here is enough if I’m being honest.” 

She gave me a small smile, continuing to rub my palm until we got to the studio. As soon as we walked into the main entrance, we were whisked off to a sizable conference room where the writers and cast were sitting around a large table reviewing scripts. Everyone paused, eyeing us as we found our way to the open seats near the head of the table. A few people gave us polite smiles, but there was definitely tension in the room.  

The Director, Liz, greeted us and quietly got us up to speed on where they were. I only vaguely remembered her, but from her reserved demeanor, I assumed she remembered me well.  

“How much time do you think you’ll need to look over the scripts?” Liz asked. 

I shrugged, “I’ve already looked over them all.” I grabbed my phone, pulling up the app I used to make notes, “I’ve made notes too. So, I’m ready to start discussing them when you all are.”  

The room was eerily silent all of a sudden as I realized most eyes were on me. Fuck. I don’t like this. I guess they weren’t expecting me to have my shit together.  

Liz now had a surprised smile on her face, “Well, that’s good news. Maybe we can pull a writer to get you started on your monologue then.”  

I gave her a tight smile. This might make their fucking heads explode. “Actually, I’ve got a rough draft for the monologue already…if that’s ok?” 

She gave me a skeptical look, “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time the guest host has written it themself, but it doesn’t happen often…mind if I look over it? Can you send it to me?”  

I nodded, pulling up the file to airdrop to her and feeling proud of myself that I remembered the steps of how to do that after my assistant showed me how to the previous week. As Liz sat in silence, reading the script I had written, my leg involuntarily started to bounce a mile a minute under the table. As I glanced around the room, I could see everyone watching Liz for any type of reaction to what she was reading - waiting for her to laugh me out of the room. It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in as the sweat beaded at the back of my neck.  

Then, I felt Kat’s hand on my knee, calming my nerves almost immediately. I took a deep breath and grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing it gently before she turned it to lay palm up on my knee so that she could stroke it with her fingertips like she had on the drive over. She seemed to sense how that calmed me. I chewed on my bottom lip, glancing in Kat’s direction where I was met with an encouraging smile.  

Liz set her phone down and leaned back in her seat as she gave me the oddest stare. “You wrote this?” she finally asked. I nodded shyly, unsure of where this was going.  

A wide smile broke across her face, “This is actually pretty damn funny, Bravo.”  

I let out a sigh of relief as a goofy grin slid across my face. The confused faces that surrounded me did not go unnoticed either.  

Liz’s eyes drifted over to Kat, “Kat, would you be willing to be in on the monologue? Instead of having random audience members chime in, I think it would be funnier if it were you.”  

Kat’s eyes widened, “I don’t know. I’m not an actor…this could end badly.” She chuckled nervously.  

I bumped my shoulder against hers, “Come on Kit Kat, it’ll be fun.”  

She arched a brow in my direction. “Come on, you love giving me a hard time. That part will be easy for you,” I added. 

She smirked, “Fair point.”  

I snapped my fingers, “Oh, that reminds me! Do you have an extra copy of that Dirty Dancing skit? Kat hasn’t seen it yet.”  

Kat’s brows furrowed, “You really suggested that?”  

I snorted, “Hell yes. It’s gold. I couldn’t let that idea go to waste. I do have a few edit suggestions though.”  

Someone slid a script across the table toward Kat, she reluctantly picked it up with a soft “thank you” to whoever sent it over. I watched as she skimmed through it with a smirk on her face, her head shaking from side to side as she sat it down. She let out a nervous laugh, covering her face with her hands, “God, I can’t believe I’m considering this.”  

Liz gave me a sly smile before her eyes flicked back to Kat, “Come on Kat, that’s one I really wanted to do. It would be awesome to have you guys in it together. I don’t think it would be as funny without you.” 

Kat sighed, “I dunno. I’ve never acted before.”  

I cleared my throat, “Technically, you kind of do when you’re dancing. It’s still telling a story, just in a different format.”  

She gave me a blank stare for a moment, her brows raised slightly. Shit. I hope she doesn’t think that’s all I’m doing is acting. 

Liz cut in, “Also, this skit will be pre-recorded. So, if you fuck it up, you can try it again. There isn’t as much pressure to get it right.”  

I nodded, “Remember, I can coach you through it…it’ll be fun…and there’s dancing too. It’s not that big of a stretch.” 

She sighed, “Ok, fine. I’ll do the Dirty Dancing skit…I need to think about the monologue. Doing something live is a whole other can of worms.” 

I snorted, “Says the woman who lets Dieter Bravo sling her around a dance floor on live TV once a week.”  

She chuckled, “That’s also a fair point. I do let you do that.” She inhaled deeply, “Can I see the monologue?” 

I nodded excitedly and handed her my phone. Kat snickered quietly to herself as she read through it. All eyes in the room were still on us through this entire discussion, but it somehow seemed like the tension in the room had lessened.  

A few minutes later, Kat handed my phone back to me. She leaned back in the seat with a somewhat mischievous smile on her face, “Can I make some suggestions?”  

My brows pinched together. I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of this or not. Liz, of course, told her to “have at it.”  

She chuckled, “We can make sex jokes, right?” 

My eyes widened. That is not what I expected to come out of her mouth.  

Liz chuckled and nodded.  

Kat smiled, “Well, dancing is often compared to sex…this bit where he’s talking himself up about being a good dancer…I can totally twist that.”  

I snorted, “What did you have in mind?”  

“You remember when I said you have loose hips?” She paused, giving me a wicked smile. “And to be clear, this was in reference to Latin dancing, so don’t you all get any ideas,” she added for those listening. The room filled with quiet snickers at her words. 

I nodded, unsure where this was going. She chuckled, “Well, you can mention something about your loose hips and how that makes you good at lots of things…some sort of sexual innuendo. I can interrupt you and point out that you have loose hips with no rhythm, so it’s pointless.”  

Me and several of the guys in the room gave each other curious looks while several of the women snorted out a laugh. 

I gave Kat a confused look as she chuckled. “The women get it,” she added.  

It finally clicked, “Are we talking about orgasms right now?” The question was out of my mouth before my filter kicked in.  

All of the women in the room cackled with laughter. Kat leaned over toward me with a smirk on her face as she peered up through her lashes. She was so close the sides of our bodies were pressed up against each other and I could smell her, a mixture of citrus and floral notes completely invading my senses.  

“Yes, we’re talking about orgasms right now. Specifically…how men fuck them up.”  

Fuck. She can’t be talking about this. My dick instantly stood to attention. I had never been more thankful to be sitting behind a table in my life. I laughed nervously, “Well, that’s an interesting take that I’m sure will get some laughs.”  

Liz leaned forward, still snickering slightly, “I may just let the two of you come up with the monologue yourselves. I never would’ve guessed you play off each other this well.”  

Liz called everyone to attention after that to see if they were ready to start narrowing down the scripts. I squirmed in my seat, attempting to adjust myself without being obvious when I felt Kat’s hand on my knee again. Fuck. No. Please stop. I glanced at her with a tight smile. She was biting her bottom lip as she winked at me and squeezed my thigh. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but my dick didn’t see it that way. It took every ounce of strength I had not to come in my jeans. It’s gonna be a long fucking week full of cold showers.  

It was obvious what she was doing, trying to break some of the tension in the room. She had effortlessly succeeded in doing that and also managed to give me a raging hard on in the process. To make it worse, I think she was mistaking my tense posture for nervousness. She pulled my hand to rest on her thigh under the table so she could continue lightly stroking it with her fingertips. I could feel the feather light graze all the way to my toes and it was making it nearly impossible for me to focus on anything but her touch.  

Luckily, Liz asked to start with me on skit feedback. So, I took the opportunity to pull my hand away to open the notes I had made on my phone. It turned out to be just the distraction I needed, allowing my body to calm the fuck down before I made a fool of myself.  

After sharing my top 15 skits, we were quickly able to narrow it down from there. Surprisingly, Liz encouraged me to suggest edits on the final scripts. I couldn’t remember her wanting me to be this involved last time I was here. I took that as a positive sign and freely gave my thoughts and suggestions as we did some quick read throughs. That whole process went surprisingly faster than we had anticipated, which meant we got to start the photoshoot a little earlier too.  

After getting polished up for the shoot, Kat and I were waiting around in the hallway for the photographer to get the lighting the way he wanted it. As we stood there, we were approached by some guy who I thought might be one of the writers. I vaguely remembered him from the last time I was on the show, but I couldn’t remember his name. Dan, maybe? Daryl? Derek? I went through a list of names in my head, but nothing sounded right. I’m sure I was too messed up to have made an effort to remember it.  

Kat and I gave him a polite smile as he approached. I assumed he wanted to chat about one of the scripts. However, the way he pulled me into a tight hug and lingered in my space told me otherwise. Dammit, please tell me I didn’t fuck around with this guy.  

He finally pulled away, eyeing me up and down appreciatively. Yep, we definitely fucked around. Fuck.  

“How ya been, Bravo? Haven’t heard from you since you were here last.”  

I gave him a tight smile, “Good, been busy.”  

I felt Kat’s hand rest on my back as she moved in a little closer to me. She could clearly sense the tension. Fuck.  

“Ahh, yeah. Well, you free after this? We could head back to my place and have some fun. I’ve got some good shit you need to try too.”  

He ran his fingers down the front of my chest in a suggestive way. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as she realized what was happening. Fuck.  

I took a step backward, my brow furrowing as I shook my head. “Sorry, man. I’ve kicked the habit. I’m not into that shit anymore. I’m living the clean life now.”  

His eyes widened, “Oh. So, all that rehab gossip is true then?”  

I nodded.  

He shrugged, “Well, we can still have fun without the drugs. I don’t have to have them.”  

My eyes darted to Kat. She looked absolutely mortified. I was already fucking this up with her. 

He must have caught my worried glance because his eyes shifted to Kat, just noticing her for the first time. My realization finally kicked in that he was already high on something based on the way his pupils were dilated.  

“You can bring your girl, too. You know I'm all for a group thing.”  

Kat scoffed, “Excuse me?”  

I started shaking my head and moved to put myself between them, “Look, Dan…” 

“Dave,” he corrected me.  

Close enough. I gave him a tight smile, trying my best not to be an asshole, but he wasn’t taking the hint.  

“Dave, I’m not trying to be a dick when I say this…but I’m not interested in anything you have to offer. I’m clean and I don’t do the random hookup thing anymore. Got it?”  

His mouth dropped open slightly as he moved backward a couple of steps, looking between Kat and I. Kat’s arm looped through mine as she pulled me in closer to her. I now realized why, there was something off about the way Dave was looking at us. I chalked it up to him being high. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes appeared almost black. 

His lips eventually turned upward, “I get it…you’re in, like…an exclusive thing now, right? Well, more power to you babe. Can’t believe someone finally locked him down.”  

Kat and I were both shaking our heads as Dave turned to walk away without another word.  

I sighed, “I’m sorry about that. I’m pretty sure he was messed up on something.”  

Kat shrugged, “Why are you apologizing? You’re not the asshole here, he is.”  

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, but if I hadn't been such a disaster before, he wouldn’t be talking to me like that.”  

Kat grimaced, “So, you hooked up with that guy before?”  

It was my turn to grimace, “I honestly have no fucking clue. If I did, I don't remember it. I’m still sorry you had to experience that though. I can tell it made you uncomfortable.”  

She cupped my cheek, “I’m fine. It just took me by surprise. I know you’re not that person anymore, so it doesn’t bother me. I’m proud of you for telling him no and sticking to it.” 

I gave her a small smile, “I appreciate that.”  

Her face changed to concern, “Are you ok? That can’t have been good for you to experience either. Do you need to talk about it?”  

I shook my head, slightly confused by her question. 

She seemed to sense it, “Someone just offered you drugs. Did it make you feel any kind of way? Do I need to be concerned?”  

My brows pinched together as I considered her questions, “No, not at all. I didn’t really feel anything other than concern about you having to deal with that shit. Really, zero cravings. The thought never crossed my mind.”  

She nodded, “Good. Seriously though, if you feel the urge to use or drink, please talk to me about it. I know this whole situation is stressing you out a little.” 

I pulled her in for a tight hug, burying my face in the top of her hair and inhaling deeply, “I promise…I’m good. You’re a good distraction from all that nonsense.” Damn Bravo, don’t push it.  

I felt her chuckle against my neck, her hot breath blowing against my skin in a way that felt far too intimate and caused little Bravo to twitch in my pants all over again. I’m definitely gonna need a cold shower later. I loosened my hold on her, reluctantly. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go either but did. At that moment, someone from the hair and makeup team popped out into the hallway, “Kat, Liz just called and said she wanted to get you in a few of the promo shots if you’re willing. You cool with that? We can glam you up right quick.” 

Kat gave me a nervous look, before agreeing and disappearing into hair and makeup. The photographer was ready for me soon after that. We got started on some solo shots, going through several wardrobe changes and backdrops in the process. Kat finally joined me, in a deep purple evening gown. They put me in a tux but kept the look relaxed with the top shirt buttons open and tie undone. For the most part, Kat was out of frame, pulling me by the tie hanging loosely around my neck or pressing her foot to my face. It was all very playful, which led to a lot of laughter between us. 

It was hard not to be distracted by her as she stood just out of frame, essentially manhandling me under the direction of the photographer. She looked so fucking good. They actually hadn’t put her in a ton of makeup, allowing her natural beauty to show through the way I liked. The deep purple of the dress against her skin was creating so many images in my mind that I knew I would come back to later.  

The photographer did take several shots with Kat in the frame as well. I was excited to see the ones of her sitting on top of a piano while I fake played. There was something sexy about the way she was stretched out in front of me. There were also a few shots where I had my back toward her, and she was leaning down with her hands splayed out over my chest. In another, I was leaning back between her knees with one arm looped around her leg to rest my hand on her bare thigh. At one point she ran her fingers through my hair, tugging it slightly so that I looked upward at her. The photographer loved it…and so did my dick. I’m pretty sure I even whimpered a little, to my embarrassment. I had to start going through a list of plant names in my head so that I didn’t get hard again.  

Some of the photos seemed a little sexy for a SNL promo or bumper, but we went with it, giggling like teenagers through the whole process and relishing in the light touches. I couldn’t help but to joke about how the Dieterina stans were going to lose their minds over the photos, which honestly, I think was their intent. They had to be aware of the online gossip just as much as Stacia and Joe were. Why else would they be pushing so hard for Kat to be involved? 

Soon after that, we were finished with our SNL duties for the day. Both of us were already running on fumes by the time the driver picked us up from the studio, but we still had to put in dance rehearsal time. I tried not to complain too much because I told Kat that I would work my ass off to be able to do this and I meant it.  

We decided to grab some takeout on the way back to the hotel. After picking up the food, my cell rang. It was my assistant, Evan, calling to check in and go over some minor scheduling changes for the following day. I took the opportunity to see how things were going back home, “How’s Zee doing? Did she eat today?” 

Evan huffed, “D, I swear, that cat fucking hates me. She just gives me a judgy stare from across the room…like who the hell are you and why are you here? She swatted at me when I walked through to go to the kitchen, then hissed at me when I set her plate of food down.” 

I chuckled. I don’t know why, but it made me feel all warm and fuzzy that she didn’t like anyone but me and Kat. “It’s your vibes man. You need to relax and stop being so uptight around her. She doesn’t like that shit. Did she eat?”  

I glanced at Kat and smiled as she arched an eyebrow in my direction.  

“Yeah, she did. That’s not been a problem.”  

I nodded, “Good. I was worried she wouldn’t if I was gone. Did you do today's plant care routine yet?”  

Evan chuckled, “Yeeees, I’m working on it now.”  

I scratched my chin, now feeling like a nagging parent. “You’re using the rainwater, right? Not tap water?”  

Evan was silent for a moment before he finally answered, “I mean…does that really matter?”  

I let out a controlled breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, “Please tell me you're joking? Yes, it matters. The tap water has chemicals in it. It’s not good for the plants. The chlorine is terrible for the soil bacteria, and it can cause calcium and magnesium build up which fucks with their ability to absorb nutrients.”  

I could feel Kat’s eyes on me. I shot another glance her way, finding her fighting a smile as she turned to look out the window.  

I heard Evan snicker, “D, I’m messing with you. I’m following your instructions and watering schedule to a T. It’s fine…just relax and try to have some fun while you’re there. I’ve got it covered here.”  

I huffed, “Dude, don’t mess with me like that. It’s not funny.” 

Evan snorted, “It kind of is, actually.”  

I shook my head, “You’re a dick sometimes. You know that? Anyway…just a reminder…when you take care of the plants in the art studio tomorrow, make sure Zee doesn’t go in there, please. Those plants are poisonous to cats.” 

“I’m sure the giant ‘No Cats Beyond This Point’ sign on the door will remind me well enough, but thanks,” he replied sarcastically.  

I snickered, “Hey, I’m just making sure bases are covered. If my cat dies because you can’t follow directions, I’ll have your ass.” I was only halfway joking with that statement.  

Evan scoffed, “Excuse me? I’m the one that was hired to hold your hand. Don’t give me that shit. Anyway…go spend time with your hot dance partner. I’ll check in tomorrow.”  

Shit, I hope she didn’t hear that. I glanced at her again, she was still staring out the window with a smile tugging at her lips. Evan had been giving me hell about having “the hots” for my dance partner for the last few weeks. I hadn’t told him it was true, he just assumed based on our chemistry on the dance floor. He was very pro Dieterina. Knowing him, he was probably the one who got that hashtag started.  

Evan and I finally said our goodbyes just as the SUV was pulling up to the hotel. I quickly hopped out of the vehicle to open Kat’s door just in time for her to hand me our drinks. She grabbed her purse and the takeout bag before sliding out onto the sidewalk. Once back in the suite, we ate our takeout in hurried silence. Afterward, we quickly changed into more comfortable clothes then decided to rehearse on the large outdoor terrace just to save us the hassle of finding the conference space that had been reserved for us.  

I could tell Kat was tired. Her eyes looked heavy, and she wasn’t as energetic as she normally was during rehearsals. I felt kind of bad for dragging her into this craziness, but I didn’t regret having all of the extra time with her. I couldn’t. I was enjoying it too much. She didn’t let the exhaustion get her down though, immediately switching to teacher mode as soon as we stepped out onto the terrace.  

“So, the rumba originated from Cuba. It’s known for a specific hip movement which is often called the ‘Cuban Motion’ combined with two quick side-steps and a slow forward-step.”  

She showed me the movements as she talked through it. I tried to focus on her words rather than the way her hips were moving, because if I didn’t, I was going to have a problem…again. I mimicked her footwork as she smiled and nodded in approval. It seemed simple enough.  

“The rumba tends to be a very flirtatious and sensual dance. Think of it as…a vertical representation of a horizontal desire.”  

My brows arched at her words. Fuck. Here we go with the sex talk again. I’m done. I snorted, “Pretty sure I could pull that desire off vertically too. No representation needed.”  

Kat’s eyes widened. Oof. Too far, Bravo. Too Far. I pursed my lips, waiting for her admonishment. Instead, she chuckled, “Pretty sure we would be kicked off the show and arrested for that.” She paused, now smiling to herself as she peered up at me shyly, “Funny enough, the Cuban government did ban this dance at one point because it was too sexually charged to be performed in public spaces.” 

Well, that’s not a no. Is she teasing me? I gave her a flirty smirk, “Well, I’ll try to keep the lewd acts to a minimum then.”   

Her eyes narrowed as she fought a smile, “At least keep them off the dance floor.”  

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as my brow arched in her direction. I really didn’t know how to take this. Is she flirting? It felt like she had been more and more as the day went on. I finally huffed out a laugh, “Don’t worry. I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.”  

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Noted.”  

An odd silence stretched between us as our eyes took each other in. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but it was different. She was standing a few feet away from me, but I could still feel the heat radiating off her as if she was pressed against me. I cleared my throat, needing to change focus to something else before I got another raging boner.  

“So, what are your plans for this one? Any ideas?” I finally asked.  

She sighed, “Yeah, some. I tried to think ahead on it because I knew we would be pressed for rehearsal time this week. Maybe we can go through what I have so far and take it from there?”  

I nodded in agreement. She approached me, holding her hands up, signaling for me to join her in a closed position. My left hand snaked around her waist and pulled her against me, much closer than she really needed to be for the dance, but she didn’t correct it. Rather than her right arm resting along mine, I noticed she had placed higher up allowing her fingers to gently run through the hair at the nape of my neck. The feel of it sent shivers down my spine and caused my skin to heat under her touch. When she took my right hand in hers, I felt her fingers lightly run along the inside of my palm before initiating a grip. It caused a tingle in my hand that radiated down my arm and through the rest of my body.  

There was something about the position this time that made it seem significantly more intimate than it had in the past. My senses felt heightened and craved her touch. I couldn’t get close enough. Maybe it was the fact that we were completely alone, dancing under the night sky and surrounded by the twinkling lights of the city - setting a completely different mood. Or maybe none of that mattered at all and it had everything to do with us pushing boundaries to see where the other stood. No matter the cause, I was loving every second of it.

We started by going through the basic steps together, then slowly worked through the rest of the choreography she had planned out thus far. The air remained thick between us and our touches seemed to linger, but that didn’t stop us from taking the rehearsal seriously. If anything, it seemed to make it more intense than usual. It was nearing midnight before we decided to call it quits. We had managed to get the first half of the routine nailed down, which was actually a really good start. We felt pretty good about having that much figured out so quickly.  

It was an odd feeling having her nearby as I got ready for bed. I swear that I could sense her presence two rooms away and it was torturous. I couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to go to her room and slip into bed with her. I wondered how she would react if I did. These thoughts bloomed into a full-on fantasy that had me straining against my boxer briefs as I tried to fall asleep. I was torn between getting up to take a cold shower and taking care of it. I reasoned that a cold shower would only delay the inevitable. I sighed, leaning over to grab a towel from the floor that I had left there from my morning shower, then pulled my boxers down and got to it.  

The images in my head were so vivid. I could see her room and that damn mirrored ceiling above the bed. I could imagine how our reflection would look as we joined in various positions. Sometimes we were soft and sensual, others fucking and being absolutely feral for each other. I wasn’t sure which way I wanted her more.

Being soft and sensual was sort of foreign to me, making me realize that it seemed more alluring than my usual style of fucking. I finally settled on those images as I stroked myself languidly, panting and sweating as I imagined how her face would look when she came and the soft sounds she would make against my lips as I took her over the edge. It wasn’t long before I had to fight back my own moans of pleasure, turning to my side to bury my face in a nearby pillow as I spilled into the towel.  

I laid there, breathing heavily, now realizing what a long week this was going to be. I didn’t know how I was going to survive it. It was either going to break me or break us. I wasn’t sure which I wanted more.

Next: Week 5 (Part 2)

A/N: Happy Tuesday my lovelies! I'm sure you weren't expecting a new chapter this quick after yesterday's update. Luckily, I didn't have much left to add to the first part and I was able to finish it this morning. 😘

So for part 1, we got Dieter's point of view of how their week in NYC has started. Are we surprised at how nervous he was for SNL? And why? How do you think their first day went? Also, how about that interaction with Dan...Dave? I already forgot his name too...

Anyway, we see what our boy is up against in his sober life. You can bet that won't be the last interaction like that for him. It's really giving Kat a dose of something new that she's never really experienced.

We also got to see a little bit of worried Cat/Plant dad Dieter. He's too damn cute with that and I can't handle it. And we can't forget his reflection on the moment he realized that pesky ring was gone. Poor guy was feeling ALL the things.

Now, can we talk about the flirting? It's only the first day and Dieter already can't behave himself. I'd love to hear your theories on how all this is going to go down. 😂

Also, quick shout out to @quicax3 for sharing that "vertical representation of a horizontal desire" line with me. We can thank Mark Ballas from DWTS for that gem. If there ever was a line to make Dieter lose it, it's that one.

I have some good news! Part 2 is mostly written. I have a few sections I need to go back and add in from where I skipped around. I plan to post that early next week, so you won't have to wait long! That will be a rather LORGE chapter in Kat's POV.

I also have a good chunk of Part 3 written as well. No ETA on that one yet, but I don't think you will have to wait too long after part 2 is posted. Part 3 is where things really go down, so it's going to get a little extra attention from me before posting. It will definitely be smut heavy, but we will also get to see some of their vulnerability too. It will alternate between Dieter and Kat's POV. 👀

As for this chapter's video, I feel it's appropriate to share Jennifer Grey doing the Rumba. We can't talk about Dirty Dancing and not include Baby herself. Enjoy!

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[songmingisthighs]

High End

group : ateez

pairing : hongjoong × model!reader

genre : smut

wc : 2.8 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (m receiving), alcohol consumption, degradation (??), unprotected sex (just no), hongjoong being cocky, mc being a filthy sub, bathroom sex ?, cum eating, idek man it’s confusing like there’s slight spit play ig? and like some pussy slapping, unrealistic depiction of sex. if your sex after this sucks pls don’t come at me. not my fault your partner is not kim hongjoong.

a/n : it’s ass oclock. literally the witching hour like 3.33 am. if i don’t make sense, i am not sorry. you are reading the horny thoughts of a delirious woman who just saw kim hongjoong dressed in balmain and suddenly she got inspired to write about this genre of hongjoong. it’s hongjoong. how can i not? any complaints should be addressed to my chinese lawyer. sue mi.

a/a/n : this is a repost of the first high end fic that somehow did nawt show up on any of the tags I'm seriously so sick of this

buy me coffee?

Kim Hongjoong is a powerful man and you know it.

You saw him when he was invited by Olivier Rousteing himself to get a sneak peek of the newest line. It was obvious to everyone there that Kim Hongjoong was a new face, he had never been seen in the fashion scene before and yet he suddenly appeared next to Olivier himself like they were old racquetball buddies. Honestly, it kind of seemed like Hongjoong was simply Olivier’s newest pet, a fascination of his worldly inspiration.

Or so you thought.

Kim Hongjoong easily commands any room he’s in no matter what he was doing. The first time you laid eyes on him was when he was being introduced to the venue owner. ‘Soft’ was the first thing you thought of him followed by 'delicate’. You have never seen a man with such stature to seem inviting yet absolutely forbidden. There was this aura building simply by him smiling at people and making small talk. There was a moment where your eyes met and you swore you saw a glint in his eyes that seemed… possessive. Your model friends told you to pay him no mind but even as you were called to disrobe and do final touches backstage, your eyes didn’t leave him. Neither did he on you.

Throughout the show, through wardrobe changes, you notice that Hongjoong too experienced some changes of his own. He was eyeing you in a way that was rather different than when you both first laid eyes on each other. The outfit the stylists put on you felt almost like nothing under Hongjoong’s gaze. You convinced yourself that he was eyeing the material and the styling or even the makeup but no, he was practically undressing you. Your assumption was further supported when you saw how his gaze shifted from the model who went before you to you. His rounded orbs that peeked from his sunglasses slanted, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his crisp suit showed a noticeable rise of his chest that remained until you turned around, and when you reached the end to strike one last post, you saw him ducking his head to watch you as he let his sunglasses slid down his sharp nose and licked his bottom lip.

So obviously when Olivier brought him over to introduce him to you, you couldn’t help but be intimidated. But when Olivier said that Hongjoong was intrigued with you, you felt your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was even worse when he took your hand gently and planted a soft kiss on the back. The motion was slow and steady as if he was appreciating every minuscule welcome of his gesture from you. Electric shocks coursed through your body from the spot where his lips lingered just a tad bit too long. Not that you were complaining though, you liked the feeling when he made contact. For some reason, the littlest touch felt addicting, it left the spot he touched with a warm sensation that you craved even seconds after it was over. Not only that, but the way he spoke was alluring. Of course, he tried speaking English to you and Olivier, and while it was good enough for you to understand, his manager took over and helped translate. All this time you thought French was the sexiest language but apparently you were wrong because suddenly Hongjoong’s aura changed once he was in his element. That room was his element and you couldn’t peel your eyes off of him, it was as if you were in a trance. You hadn’t even realized that Olivier excused himself and Hongjoong to attend to the guests, wanting Hongjoong to meet some of the people from Balmain itself. While Olivier simply turned and walked away, Hongjoong took a step towards you, tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled a devilishly gentle smile.

“I hope to see you soon.”

Though it was phrased like a request, you realized that it was very much a demand. With eyes that dropped to the hand he kissed, he looked back up to you and left with a not-so-subtle wink.

Had anyone else seen the both of you interacting, they would’ve immediately tried to cut the sexual tension with a sword and they would’ve done it so easily. Kim Hongjoong is a powerful, influential man who knows a lot of things that are in his element. But what he knows most is what he wants and moreover, he knows how to get what he wants. You hadn’t even realized that he slipped something into your hand until you looked at it.

A room key.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn’t clear how it happened, it wasn’t clear when exactly it happened. But you found yourself between Hongjoong’s manspreading legs in the bathtub, sucking his cock as he took sips of his Moet messily. Droplets of the bittersweet liquid fell from the corners of his lips down to your face and into your busy mouth. The taste of his precum mixed with expensive alcohol somehow made your head swirl as if you were experiencing a drug-induced high. You were never one to analyze the taste of cum, but you had a sneaking sensation that rather than the alcohol, it was Hongjoong’s cum that made the alcohol taste better. Maybe it was some sort of a drug, Kim Hongjoong that is, he was your drug. Through your heavy lids, you could see Hongjoong smirking down at you with maniacal ease playing on his lips, taunting your presence and your work. The golden liquid in the tall glass was swirled around to further emphasize the power he had between you. While it seemed like he wasn’t affected much by your greedy mouth trying to coax an orgasm out of him, the way his cock twitch inside your mouth said otherwise. You knew that having him was a good idea ever since you first laid eyes on it when Hongjoong oh-so-casually pulled the tie of his bathrobe to reveal his boner. Never have you been so attracted to someone’s genitals but you knew you just had to have that pretty thing in your mouth.

“You like this, don’t you? You’re enjoying yourself much more than I’m enjoying my cock between your lips,” he mocked. Usually, you wouldn’t appreciate being degraded like that, a sexual act in its own nature is explicit and dirty but somehow he made it sinfully pleasing. You couldn’t help but clench at how he was talking down at you, mocking you for being desperate for him. His chuckle sent a wave of vibration that reached your tongue, “I can see your cunt clenching at nothing. Do you really want me that bad? Do you like my cock that much?” he taunted. The fact that the bathtub was facing a window alluded you momentarily, you were so focused on sucking off Hongjoong that the whole world almost literally blurred away.

For Kim Hongjoong and Kim Hongjoong only, you were nothing but a toy that he could collect and play with however he wanted. But you had no issue with it as upon realization, Hongjoong is a man who appreciates art. Whatever he does has a meaning and the meaning is more often than not uniquely beautiful. To be the art that he possesses to appreciate, was like the highest honour you could ever reach.

The more you tasted him, the hungrier you were. As your head bobbed to take more of him, wanting to get him to cum on your tongue so you could selfishly guzzle his juice for yourself. “Greedy, greedy girl,” he said almost in a disappointed manner as he ran his hand down your hunched back down as far as he could reach, “How can something so beautiful be so sinful?” he sighed. Your mouth detached from his cock when you felt him drag his fingers from just above your ass and up. The feeling of his nails marking you ever so slowly was thrilling; your pussy dripped with arousal, mixing into the warm, soapy water, and your spine arched as goosebumps rose in the path that Hongjoong made. Had you not been kneeling on the tub, you would’ve definitely slipped and possibly injured yourself.

Hongjoong watched in awe as your face contorted in pleasure. He watched as your bottom lip trembled and eyebrows furrowed while your eyes shone with the help of the accumulating tears that gathered from the pleasurable sting. The only thing Hongjoong regret at that moment was how he couldn’t make a baroque painting out of your erotic expression. The lines forming on your face told all the emotions that you were feeling as if it was telling its own story and explaining the harmony. Looking south, your trembling breasts made your state somehow more precious; the stiff peaks looked so inviting but the fleshy mounds warned him to treat you delicately. In contrast to the night sky that served as a backdrop, you looked like a star in his eyes.

Without wasting time, Hongjoong slid into the tub, joining you in a kneeling position as he turned your body to face the window. The gleaming lights of Paris in the night framed the reflection of you with Hongjoong pressing his body tightly to your back. For a moment, you could feel the smooth head of his cock prodding around your pussy, collecting your arousal as if he wanted to collect them so as to not go to waste. Slowly and carefully, you felt Hongjoong’s arms making their way up your arms. Your face heated up when you felt him lift them and lock them behind his neck. “Keep them there. Can you do that for me?” Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his hot breath and lips on your ear. This man truly knew what he was doing. Which was why he slapped your cunt when you didn’t give him an answer. “I was asking you,” he growled which made his chest vibrate on your back. With a nervous lick to your bottom lip, you meekly nodded, “Yes, sir, I can,” though you tried, you couldn’t hold the crack of your voice which thankfully Hongjoong found adorable so he didn’t even comment on it. “Good,” the hand that slapped your cunt stayed in its place with two of his fingers nestled between your nether lips comfortably. His other hand soon found purchase between your breasts to rest on your sternum. He must’ve felt how quick your heart was beating because he began grinding his cock on your cunt accompanied by his fingers tapping on your clit into the rhythm of your heartbeat. Even if you willed yourself, and you did, you couldn’t help it when your hips jolted into the taps, wanting more stimulation from his fingers as your hole clenched, forcing some of your arousal to drip more to Hongjoong’s cock.

In one swift move, Hongjoong impaled you with his length. The sudden impact almost sent you reeling forward, hurtling even, had it not for Hongjoong’s surprisingly strong grip on your body. Each thrust from his hips sent your thighs trembling in pleasure and it was only intensified when his fingers decided to toy with your clit. Melodious grunts and moans on top of sensuous huff and puff of air should not be as erotic but Hongjoong managed to fill your head with his verbal affirmation of pleasure. Your senses were sent to overdrive while your perseverance was put to the test. Through each slip of your fingers or how your knees buckle, you tried to not falter. “God, Hongjoong,” you moaned, nearly squealing when Hongjoong pinched your clit rather harshly. The sudden treatment caused your body to shiver and it was to Hongjoong’s delight to see your breasts bouncing and legs trying to close.

If you think you were in a state of absolute bliss, Hongjoong was in a whole new plane of existence. He loved how responsive you were to his moves, the way your body sought more of him whenever he touched a new place. He loved how your skin felt against his. But nothing beats the feeling of staking a claim over a pussy, your pussy. Though you both just met, his ego managed to convince him that your pussy was made for him, it was melded to accommodate him and only him. He wondered how he could feel so amazing being in someone’s cunt. Obviously, there is pleasure, but anyone can feel pleasure from anything. Not everyone had the privilege of experiencing heavenly sinful bliss. It felt so right but so wrong at the same time because how was he supposed to live without being inside of you all the time after this? He never wanted to leave. Even if he does, he wanted to make sure to truly make you his.

“I’m going to make your pussy mine. I’ll make sure to leave part of me inside you,” he announced. Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating the absolute recklessness Hongjoong was about to do to you. Words never had such an effect on you but you love it, you love what Hongjoong was doing to you where he wanted to do it with you. The sound of sloshing water and also the feeling of being swayed by the movement of the water due to your activity felt organic, it felt natural. Droplets of water that splashed on your entangled bodies served to remind you of the reality that the rest of the world still existed. But it didn’t seem to matter. Not when you and he were so close to cumming.

Knowing that he didn’t want your hands to wander, you decided that your release was more important. Your right hand left its post to grab the Hongjoong’s hand that was nestled on your cunt. Before Hongjoong could protest, your now vacant left hand grabbed a handful of Hongjoong’s hair on the back of his head, instantly causing Hongjoong to gasp and roll his eyes into their socket. Meanwhile, you worked his hand on your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the abused bundle of nerve frantically. Your hips ground to chase the pleasure on your clit and to meet Hongjoong’s thrusts continuously until you were squealing, releasing your cum. As you rode the high or orgasm, your body tried to curl up on its own, your cunt had a vice grip on Hongjoong’s cock as your legs tried to snap shut. The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle that it started becoming painful. But the pain was too good, so addicting, you wanted more of it and you didn’t want it to stop. So through the pain, with Hongjoong’s other arm keeping you close, you enjoyed every bit of sadistic release.

Hongjoong tried to pump his cock as best he could despite the firm grip your cunt had on him. Thankfully, he managed to unload his seed in time, just as your hole began fluttering. The knowledge that he was making you his along with the sweet sensation of release were the two things Hongjoong could think about. On top of that, he also believed that he couldn’t get enough of it, especially the sight of your body twitching in front of him, decorated by the Parisian lights. It was a boost to his ego. Moreover, when you finally collapsed into the tub with your head resting on Hongjoong’s hip next to his softening cock, Hongjoong never felt more powerful.

In contrast to the activity you both just went through, Hongjoong softly carded his fingers through your hair, gently so as to not cause tangles. The comforting gesture allowed you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment, though your lips decided to show some appreciation to the man by peppering kisses around his hips. “You did such a good job,” Hongjoong cooed affectionately, genuinely satisfied with what just happened. So much so that he took his glass that he abandoned on the tray by the tub to finish off his Moet.

You thought he just wanted to finish off the glass but you were wrong. Because the next thing you know, Hongjoong maneuvered your body to lean back on the tub as he leaned close to you. With his thumb, he gently coaxed your chin open and spit some of the alcohol into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise initially but the stern yet hopeful look in Hongjoong’s eyes made you swallow the liquid. The slight burn of alcohol was no match to the fire that burned in Hongjoong’s eyes when he saw how obedient you were. Once you opened your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed the mixture of his spit and alcohol, Hongjoong wasted no time in pressing his lips wholly on yours. The rest of the alcohol in his mouth dripped down to yours, some you welcome down your throat and some dribbled down the sides of your mouth down to your chin and further down, creating a trail to your cleavage. With a last pat to your spent cunt that was leaking his cum underwater, Hongjoong smirked to your lips, “Such a good job indeed.”

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[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 2: What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?

Summary: After you meet Javier Peña giving a presentation at your elementary school, you get ready to meet him at your co-worker's backyard cookout. You just hope that he remembers you.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past with the DEA, mentions of grief/death, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of blood and needing first aid (nothing major), Javi taking care of you, allusions to sexual tension, you being a sarcastic asshole and Javi being too smitten to care

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: Shout out to Chucho Peña for being the G.O.AT. And Javi putting his DEA first aid skills to the test. Thank you for the likes and reposts! These two are fun to write.

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Javi couldn’t think of the last time that he had turned on the radio in his truck. It had practically gone untouched since he had returned home to Laredo. But today, on his way back to the Sheriff's Department, he had put music on full volume the whole drive. His brain overflowed with images of you. Your smile, your laugh, God, the way you looked in that damn dress. The sweet smell of you still lingered in his mind as you had gotten only inches away from his lips. “See you on Saturday.” If he had known that today’s trip would have ended like this, he would have become the damn D.A.R.E representative of the office. He was so consumed with thoughts of you, that it wasn’t until he had passed City Hall that he realized he had driven by the Sheriff's Department 15 minutes ago.  

“How’d it go, Peña?” Javier could barely take 3 steps into his office before Carter was already at his door. “You sure look happy.” 

“Hey, look who made it out alive!” A 2nd voice chimed in from outside the office door, Carter’s partner, Detective Miller.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad! Was the hot one there that I told you about? Jesus, I’d go back to do that stupid ass presentation again just to see her.” 

“God I hope she was, she must have been out sick the day I went because all I got were 3 middle aged ladies and disappointment.” Carter and Miller laughed to each other. 

“Definitely would have paid way more attention if she was my fuckin’ teacher, god damn, she is a hot piece of a-” 

Javier was no stranger to his co-workers checking out women on the job, hell, he was guilty of it too. But there was something about the conversation that made his stomach churn with jealousy. 

“She’s got a fucking name, alright? Don’t talk about her like that.” Javier snapped, leaving the two men standing in his doorway stunned. Given his reputation, Carter and Miller thought Javier would be quick to join in on the banter. 

“Jesus, sorry man. Just trying to have some fun.” The two backed out of his office, not expecting such a reaction from him. Carter was just about to open his mouth, hoping to gain some intel from Javier’s trip, but before he could, Miller gave him a silent shake “no”, gesturing to get the hell out before Carter did something else stupid to piss their boss off. 

Despite his interaction with Carter and Miller, Javi spent the rest of the day in a surprisingly good mood. 

Fuck, did he feel… happy?  

It obviously wasn’t a look that Javier wore often, considering that as he left the office for the day and gave a smile, accompanied by “Have a good night!” to the office secretary, she looked up at him with legitimate concern and asked if he was okay.  

Dust swept around his truck as Javi pulled down the dirt driveway to the front of the Peña ranch. The quaint house was nestled amongst acres of farmland, sat in front of a well loved barn where the horses were kept. The porch was lined with a colorful arrangement of flowers and figurines, all lovingly placed by Lucia, and even more lovingly tended to by her husband, Chucho, who swore his best to keep her garden alive after she no longer could. 

The front door let out a faint squeak as Javier made his way through, taking off his shoes and setting down his things before making his way over to the fridge. Reaching at the handle to grab a beer and something to eat, he saw the bright yellow sticky note placed at eye level as he bent down. 

Javi, 

It’s Wednesday. I’m with Las Vengüenzas (The Embarrassments) for cards. Will be back around 9. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Símon is being an ass today. Watch out. 

Love, Pops 

Chucho Peña was notorious for leaving notes everywhere around the house. Javi was pretty sure if he didn’t make a bi-weekly trip around the ranch, the entire thing would be covered in yellow post-it notes. 

After inhaling half of a leftover sandwich, and finishing off his beer, Javi slipped on his boots and made his way out to the barn to round up and feed the horses for the night. Before accepting his new position at the Sheriff's department several months ago, Javi spent the beginning of his time home from the DEA working with his father on the ranch. When he came home from Colombia, he didn’t really have a plan. Just that he couldn’t take working for the DEA any longer. Even after he had leaked the dark, unsettling truth of what had happened with the Cali Cartel and made a point to politely tell the DEA to fuck off, Javi would still receive the occasional call asking him if he would consider coming back to help fight the drug war raging across the border in Mexico. The request to fuck off got less and less polite with each call. 

Still, Javi felt unsettled resigning himself to a life of ranching forever. His body had proved to him that he definitely was not as young as he once was, and he couldn’t help but miss the fact that what he was doing held some sort of significance to make things better. 

When Dean Morris approached Chucho about the new training position opening up for the department, he told the elder Peña that the office was willing to do just about anything to have Javi be a part of their team. No field work, normal office hours, pay raise, and good benefits.  Just providing his expertise and knowledge to new recruits and staff about strategies to stop trafficking across the border. Javier had considered the option of telling him to fuck right off too, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot to pass something like this up. He felt guilty leaving his position at the ranch with his dad, but his father assured him “If I could do it all these years while you were gone, I’d sure as hell look like a fool if I couldn’t keep doing it now. Don’t think you’re still getting out of helping while you’re around, though. You can promise your old man you won’t leave me too high and dry. ” 

So here Javi was, making good on his promise. As he opened the gate to the barn, 2 of the horses trotted up to him immediately, knowing that it must be close to dinner time. 3 more slowly followed, leaving one left for Javi to corral. 

Where the hell was he? 

“Son of a bitch.” Javier muttered to himself, noticing that the last horse he was looking for was all the way across the field, perfectly content where he was standing. Chucho was right, Símon was going to be a pain in the ass today. 

“Símon! Get your ass over here! I’m not going all the way out to get you!” 

Nothing. 

“Fine, starve to death, see if I care.” Javi had a sweet spot for animals, but Símon’s unruly antics tended to make the horse an exception to the rule. 

Javi turned his back and made his way to the other 5 horses choosing to give him much less of a hard time. Javi filled the troughs with food, leaving the horses happily munching on their dinner. As he got one last scoop from the bucket to place into the trough, a soft muzzle bumped its way under the scoop, causing the food to fly everywhere. Símon let out a loud whinney, mocking Javier for letting out a startled yell and dropping the remainder of the food all over the floor of the barn. “Stupid ass horse…” Javi grumbled. 

As Javi ventured his way back to the house, several more lights had been turned on inside the house, signaling that his dad must be back from his weekly cards night. 

Kicking his boots off on the back step, Javi greeted his father. “Hey Pops. You were right about Símon. Pendejo scared the shit out of me and knocked a whole scoop of food out of my hand.” 

“Well from what I gather, it seems like that’s a small tarnish on what otherwise seems to be a pretty good day.” Javi could hear the delight in Chucho’s voice from around the corner. He had forgotten that both Maria and Estelle’s husbands were a part of Chucho’s card club, and were probably both delighted to gossip to their husbands about their eventful day at school. 

Javi joined his father in the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the dining room table and plopping himself in it. “Word travels fast, I guess.” 

“Not fast enough for Maria, apparently. She called me as soon as she got home from school to tell me about today. She was delighted to see you, and even more delighted to tell me that apparently you’re now joining me for the cookout that you very adamantly told me you weren’t going to.” Chucho raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I heard she’s a sweet girl.” 

Javi rubbed his hand across the width of his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Pops, listen, it’s not that big of a deal, I just met her today. She seemed nice.” 

“Must be a little more than just nice if you’re willing to go through the ringer your mother’s friends are about to put you through on Saturday.” Chucho now delighted in the fact he could tell Javier was becoming increasingly more sheepish as the conversation continued. “Ah, the things we do for love…” 

“Dad, listen I-” 

“I know, I know, you just met her. But let me tell you hijo, I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on your mother, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that you’re volunteering yourself to talk with your friends and family you’ve been avoiding since you’ve been home just for another chance to see her? She must be something special.” Chucho sighed, and made his way past Javi, extending his arm out to pat him on the shoulder as he passed by. “I just want you to be happy, hijo. Sounds like today was a good start. Well, this old man is off to bed, I may not be beautiful, but I sure need my sleep. Good night, Javi.” 

“Night, Pops.” 

Chucho retreated to this bedroom, leaving Javi alone in the kitchen. Javi stared at the pictures hanging on the wall across from the table. His gaze traveled across the wall noting the variety of framed photos. Him as a toddler in nothing but a cowboy hat and diaper, his mother and father standing next to him holding his diploma from his high school graduation, and Chucho and Lucia slow dancing together at their 25th wedding anniversary party. Javi smiled at the joy and happiness radiating off their faces in the photo.  

Today was a good start. 

You were convinced that time could not have moved any slower than it did between Wednesday and Friday. Exhausted from the end of the school year excitement, you were sure that even a constant IV coffee drip was going to be enough to keep you alive for the next few days. The only thing keeping you going was Saturday. Specifically, Javier Peña. 

Your week became a little more bearable in the moments in the staff lounge you got in between inhaling your lunch, listening to your co-workers drabble bits of information about Javier and the Peña family. You tried to absorb as much of it as you can, without trying to sound too over-eager or ask too many questions. On Wednesday, after your encounter, you asked at lunch how the ladies knew Javi. From there, you had learned that his late mother used to work with the rest of the 3rd grade team before passing about a decade ago (And had been inseparable up until then), he had started his new job at the Sheriff's department a few months ago after returning back to Texas (but you couldn’t figure out where or why he was gone), and they were definitely not a fan of some woman named Lorranie (you weren’t sure why on that either, but the look on their faces told you Lorranie was bad news). If there was one thing your co-workers loved to do, it was talk. While you were happy it provided you with some intel about Javi, the thought of what these ladies had been saying about you behind your back was also petrifying. 

Some way or another, you finally managed to make it to Friday at 4:00 PM, students now all gone from your classroom and headed home for the weekend. With the few ounces of energy you had left, you began to gather your things from your desk to pack up and head out with the promise of Saturday finally on the horizon. 

As you were turning off your lights and closing the door behind you, the 3 Amigas of 3rd grade came strolling up behind you. 

“So, mija, are you excited for tomorrow?” Maria said, giving you a playful nudge in the arm as you joined the group of ladies walking down the hallway towards the parking lot. You could already feel your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Of course you were excited for tomorrow. The thought of seeing the tall, broad and handsome man that was Javier Peña was the only thing you through this week. His deep brown eyes, the way his shoulders stretched the back of his navy blue suit, his hands? You had only known this man for less than a week, yet the image of him flooded your brain every day since you met. Not to mention the fact you hadn’t been on a first date (or anything even close to that) since you met Paul almost 3 and a half years ago. It was only now that you felt the nerves swirling around in your stomach, realizing tomorrow you were actually going to see him again. 

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m uh, actually kind of nervous though.” Your voice began to trail off as the women looked at you with a smirking suspicion. You quickly elaborated, trying not to make it too obvious the reason why you were worked up was because of the one person you were most looking forward to seeing. 

“You know, because this is my first big party I’ve been to since moving here, and I don’t know a lot of people, and want to make a good impression and-” 

“You’ll know us” Linda cut you off with a smile. 

“You’ll know someone else there besides us old broads, too.” Estelle winked. 

“Mija, there is nothing for you to worry about. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that everyone there will love you. Anyways, we’ve already put in a good word for you, so I wouldn’t be too nervous. ”

“Maria, leave the poor girl be! She’s a tough cookie, she can fend for herself!” Linda retorted. She could tell from the look on your face that this conversation was turning out to make you more anxious than expected. “It’ll be a fun time, mija. Drive home safe and we will see you tomorrow.” 

The 4 of you waved and said goodbye as you parted ways to your cars scattered across the parking lot. As you sat down in the driver’s seat, you couldn’t tell if you were covered in sweat from the hot, Texas sun beating through the windows of your car, or because the idea of tomorrow had you a hot mess. 

Your apartment was finally starting to feel like home. Pictures of your family hung on the walls, furniture finally delivered, contents of moving boxes unpacked and put away. You were a little too Type A for your own good, and while for the most part, your boxes had been sorted and organized you still didn’t feel settled until everything felt like it had a place. The last thing left to put away was a box marked “CHICAGO” that had sat in the corner of your living room, long after its counterparts had been sorted to their rightful home. You had told yourself that you needed to finally face unpacking this box before the school year came to an end, and with your countdown at 4 days, time was starting to run out. 

After you had finished putting away the contents of your school bag, you changed out your work clothes, tossing them in your hamper and rummaging through your dresser to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized Chicago Cubs shirt, its logo faded and fraying from all of its wear. On your way back to the living room, you passed through the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. If given a choice, it was always Miller Lite. Growing up with 3 older brothers, it was the beer they would sneak you sips of when your parents weren’t looking. It was the beer you drank in college, knowing that a night drinking most liquors would send you to an early grave the next morning. It was what you drank almost every night for months after finding out you had wasted years of your life with Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to give an apology for what he had done to hurt you. If there was one thing you were, it was a little too stubborn for your own good, and you and Miller Lite had a history you weren’t willing to part ways with now. 

That lead you back to public enemy #1- The “CHICAGO” box. You saw crossed legged on the floor as you rested your hand on your face, the other bringing the beer to your mouth for some liquid courage. The thing that frustrated you the most about this stupid box was that you knew exactly what was inside it. You could probably name where the contents were positioned inside the box. But every time you came close to ripping the packing tape off, you found yourself frozen in fear. If you opened that box, you would be admitting to the fact that when you were faced with the toughest moments in your life, you chose to run. Run half way across the country without looking back. And that- that made you feel a sense of cowardice that hung heavy on your conscience. You’d like to think that you were strong, determined, willing to stand up for yourself. But when it mattered most, you were none of those things. You were far from it. 

So here you were again. You and that damn box. After this week, you didn’t have it in you to intensify the staring contest you had started with an inanimate object, and the prospect of tomorrow was enough to ruin your mood over a stupid container full of things. Exhausted, you sat yourself down on the couch, curled up in a blanket and turned on the TV to watch the next NHL Playoff game. 

There were a lot of things you loved about Texas, but their lack of enthusiasm for hockey was a bit disappointing. When people asked you some of things you missed most about the midwest, a hockey fix was at the top of your list. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played, you were convinced you came out of the womb with skates on. You were also convinced the need to keep up with your brothers is what fueled the fire for your overly competitive nature. The only downside to your love for hockey was when it came to dating. Being around your brother’s teammates, you constantly heard “how hot it was” or that it was “so sexy” when girls knew about hockey, or sports in general. In reality, whenever you brought up your interest on dates, it backfired. It turned into “Well you only know about it because of your brothers” or “It’s weird that you play hockey, that’s too manly.” One man once made the mistake of taking you on a first date to a skating rink thinking it would be cute to teach you how to skate, until you lapped him several times as he wobbled like a baby deer, and made him storm off in anger because a girl was better at skating than him. His loss. 

Taking another sip of your beer, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you leaned your head further and further into your couch pillow. Despite trying your best to stay awake, exhaustion and comfort swept over your body, as you were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of cheering and bullhorns coming from the TV. 

It wasn’t until you were greeted by a sharp, stiff pain in your back that you realized you had fallen asleep, curled up on your couch, not even making it into bed last night. You grunted and rolled over to look at the clock hanging above your kitchen counter 

10:13 AM

Shit. You were definitely not planning on sleeping in this late. The cookout wasn’t until 2:00, and all you had on your to-do list was to shower and get ready, but the last thing you wanted was for anything to make you late for something you had been looking forward to for the past 3 days. 

After taking what you so lovingly deemed the “3 hour shower” (washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, and scrubbing down every inch of your body), you stood wrapped in your towel, staring at your open closet.  You swiped through several pieces, throwing them down on the bed, bracing yourself for the personal fashion show that was about to ensue. 

Almost an hour later, and half your closet now scattered about on the floor, you were convinced that if you had woken up at 7:00 AM you still would be crunched for time trying to pick out an outfit. What the hell does someone wear to a casual cookout full of a bunch of people they don’t know, and one really hot one that they want to get to know better? 

After a few more combinations, you ruled out shirts and shorts, worrying that you were going to look too informal amongst a group of strangers. You dug back through your pile of dresses, trying a few back on hoping to find a solution. At 12:30, you landed on a baby blue sundress covered in small, white and pink flowers. Considering it was going to be 89 degrees today, you figured the spaghetti straps and knee length cut would be acceptable. It made you feel confident, and even a little sexy. After almost an hour of trying to toe the line between cute and casual, you threw on the dress and give yourself a quick run down in the mirror. Not half bad. You spent the last bit of time in the bathroom finishing your hair and a little bit of makeup, a routine you had down to a science, followed by swearing at yourself under your breath as you shoved the explosion of clothes on your floor back into your closet. 

As you gathered your things, you took one final deep breath for reassurance as you headed out the door and down the steps to the front of your apartment building. You had been to Maria’s house before for her Cinco de Mayo party, recalling directions and that it wasn’t too far of a walk from your house. The whole way there, your hands were balled in fists squeezing your fingers, fueled exclusively by your increasing anxiety as you got closer and closer to Maria’s house. Knowing the social butterfly Maria is, you shouldn’t have been shocked by the massive number of cars lining the street leading up to her residence. As you walked up to the back gate of the house, you took several deep breaths before mustering the courage to make the trek down to the party. With each step across the hot cement of the sidewalk, your brain swirled with questions 

“Is he already there? Is he actually excited about seeing me too, or do the ladies at work just feel bad for me and they’re trying to make me feel better? God, does he even remember that I’m coming or who I am? Fuck, was this dress even a good choice? What if I’m way too dressed up and he thinks I look like an idiot? Jesus, I hope they have alcohol at this thing. 

Your heart raced as you approached the gate to her backyard, with a sign in bright, colorful letters that read “Fiesta this way!”. As you pushed open the gate, you were greeted with the thick scent of meats cooking on the grill, followed by upbeat Latin music and chatter amongst the guests. When you looked around, you were greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. You began to walk further into the crowd when a tight embraced wrapped around you from behind. 

“MIJA! I’m so glad you came!” Maria’s familiarity gave you a slight sense of relief. “Listen, I have to go help with the food, but there are lots of drinks in the cooler so help yourself, food should be up in about half an hour! Not everyone is here yet, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’ll be sure to send them your way.” Before you could make any attempt at a comeback, Maria winked at you and escorted herself back to the porch to continue setting up dinner. 

Taking another sweep around the backyard, you made your way over to the drink coolers sitting on the side of the house, when you felt a tug at the bottom of your dress. Surprised, you turned around to see a small freckly face staring back up at you.  

“Extoose me. My big bwother says dat your his teacher and dat sometimes you pway with dem at weecess and dat dey weeelllllyyy want to pway baseball but none of da other gwownups will pway and dey need someone to pitch. Will you pweeeeseeee pway wif us?”

Looking up, you noticed a small group of kids gathered in a cluster now smiling and waving at you. 

“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sophia.” You waved back at two of the kids you knew from your class. “You know it’s okay to come ask me to play, you don’t have to send your little brother.” 

Alex looked at you with a sincerely confused look on his face. “I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk to our teacher if they’re not at school.” 

Sophia slapped him with the wiffle ball bat. “Of course you are, stupid. Teachers don’t live at school. They do real people stuff too.” 

“If I’m so stupid, why didn’t you ask her, Ms. Know-it-all?” 

As the two continued to argue, you took another look around at the party. With the familiar face count only at 3 (being Maria, and Estelle and Linda who you had waved to from afar), you realized that your choices were to either go converse with people you’ve never met, stand alone awkwardly, or go play baseball. The choice seemed easy enough. 

“It’s okay you guys, I’ll play with you. Only for a little bit though, okay?” 

The kids cheered as they placed a bag full of wiffle balls in your hands, glad to have an adult that would be able to throw a semi-hittable pitch. The kids took turns lining up to bat, as you threw towards them. Giving a little extra encouragement to the ones who needed it, you high-fived each kid as you let them have a “homerun” by running as fast as they could around the backyard. Noticing your collection of wiffle balls had dwindled down to zero, you sent the group of kids to scatter around the backyard to collect as many as they could. As you bent down and reached your hand out to pick up one of the balls close to you, a much larger hand set itself on top of yours. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I don’t think the pitchers are supposed to go out in the field to collect all the balls.” 

Shifting your gaze upwards from the grass, your eyes traveled up the length of the figure standing before you. Tight, dark washed jeans, followed by a white, short sleeved button up, that exposed the tanned skin of his chest. Next, a strong jaw and mustache, and deep, chocolate brown eyes that had lived vividly in your memory since first seeing them a few days ago. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured that you’re a teacher by day, MLB pitcher by night.” 

You shrugged your shoulders and mischievously rolled your eyes. “Damn, you caught me. My secret is ruined!” 

Javi shifted the hand that was on top of yours under your palm, engulfing your hand in a gentle grasp, pulling you up to a standing position. 

“Thanks.” you blushed as you brushed your hands down your sides to flatten your dress. You watched as Javi’s eyes darted looking you up and down, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip. 

“Can I uh, get you something to drink?” Javi asked. Noticing that his hand was still holding yours, he shifted his weight and tried to casually place his hands on his hips. 

“Yeah, a beer would be great. Unfortunately, I don’t think they allow players to drink on the field, but it looks like they called someone in from the bullpen to take my place so I should be in the clear.” You both laughed, looking over to see that none of the kids had seemed to care that you had gone missing, and someone else had gladly taken your place as pitcher. 

“I’ll be right back.” As you sat down at the edge of an empty picnic table on the patio, you couldn't help but gawk as Javier’s back turned to yours, revealing just how tight his jeans were and how broadly his shoulders stretched. His trip to get both of you drinks was prolonged by several people coming up to him, either shaking his hand or patting him on the back. You were curious why so many people had such an interest in Javi, and why he didn’t look thrilled about it. 

After a few minutes, Javi made his way back to you, two beers in hand. “Well, you sure seem like a popular guy, Mr. Peña.” He slid your drink across the table to you, letting out a small scoff at your comment. 

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.” He looked around as if he was checking to see that no one else was coming up to bother him. 

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Do you mind me asking where you were?” You took a sip of your drink, and traced your thumb along the condensation of the bottle. 

Javi shifted in his seat and continued to look around. “I was uh, I was in Colombia working for the DEA.” It was his turn to take a much longer drink than the one that you just took. 

“Oh shit, like the Drug Enforcement Administration DEA?” 

“Last time I checked, that was the only DEA I knew of.” He looked down at his beer and let out an uncomfortable laugh. You had seen plenty about the happenings in Colombia on the news the past several years. Needless to say, none of it was “feel-good” content. Working for the DEA was one thing, but if he was down in Colombia? He would have really been in the thick of it. Putting two and two together, it now made sense why his trip to get you both drinks had taken so long. 

“Well, um, it does sound like a really interesting job. If you ever want to talk about it, I would love to listen. But I totally get the whole feeling uncomfortable when everyone thinks you’re a hero and wants you to tell them everything when all you want is to not talk about it at all.” You reached out to place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring smile. He looked back at you with crinkled brows and genuine confusion. You could almost feel his demeanor shift, like you were the first person who had ever considered trying to understand how he felt about the situation he was in. “My dad was a firefighter, I had 2 brothers who were in the military and another brother who’s an EMT. Obviously it’s not fair to compare anyone’s jobs, but they always hated how everyone else felt entitled to their heroism when a lot of the time, they felt far from it.” 

He swallowed and clenched his jaw as his puppy dog brown brown eyes locked with yours. No one had ever even bothered to consider the fact that Javi had no interest in talking about his past. That the last thing he felt like was a hero, that he regretted the things he had done. Yet here you were, holding his hand, reassuring him he didn’t owe you anything. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“It’s okay, really.” You reassured him once more. “The one thing I do want to know…” Your voice trailed as you took another sip of your beer, Javi’s face once again shifting to concern “is how much Maria has told you about me, and how much damage control I need to be doing.” Breaking the silence, you and Javi both laughed to yourselves. You watched as the tension seemed to dissipate from Javi’s body.  

“I could say the same thing. If it makes you feel any better, the only thing I know about you is that you just moved here not that long ago from Chicago, and that Maria was very insistent that I would be an idiot if I tried to do anything to mess up my chances with a gorgeous girl like you.” 

“Well the first part is true. I moved here at the end of December, so that’s what? 4 months now? And yeah, I’ve lived in or just outside of Chicago my whole life, so it’s definitely taken some adjusting. The 2nd half seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” You had never been good at taking compliments, but you could feel your cheeks flush. 

“Damn, Chicago to Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas? That’s a big move. The 2nd part is definitely not an exaggeration in the slightest. You look…” His eyes shifted over you once more, biting down on his lower lip. “You look beautiful in that dress.” 

“PEÑAAAAAAA! How have you been?! Mierda, it’s been too long, amigo!” A clearly drunk party  goer was standing next to you and raised up a hand holding his beer, extending it towards Javi. As he continued to stumble toward Javi, he lost his balance, and the glass beer bottle he was holding slipped from his hands, shattering on the cement patio. Glass shards and beer foam went flying on contact, and your shin was in the way of the cross fire. 

“Jesus, that hurts, shit!” Looking down at your leg, you watched as blood dripped from the point where a piece of glass lodged its way into your skin. Javi looked like he was about to murder whatever drunken idiot had stumbled his way over to him, but before he could, he had already rushed around to the side of the table you were sitting at. You tried to get up  to get a better look at the damage, but Javi firmly grasped your hips and ran his hands down the sides of your thighs to sit you back in your seat. Well, being insanely turned by a man trying to help you get a piece of beer bottle out of your shin was a new first. 

“Don’t move. I don’t want the glass to shift around anymore and make the cut worse.” His hands still hadn’t left your thighs. 

“Javi, I’m fine. I can walk.” You began to stubbornly protest. You tried to hide the grimace on your face from the pain you felt as you began to stand up again. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll go find some first aid stuff and- OH, okay?!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi had scooped you up like it was nothing and was carrying you bridal style towards the house. Your head rested against his chest, coming face to face with unbuttoned flaps of his shirt. His scent overwhelmed you, somehow smelling even better than when you bumped into him just a few days ago. The thumb of the hand that was holding you beneath your legs traced back and forth across your knee. 

“This seems a little unnecessary, don’t ya think?” Trying to hold it together, you looked up at Javi. 

“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” He looked down at you and shook his head with a slight grin on his face. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Javi made his way through the crowded patio to the sliding glass door that led into the house. 

“DIOS MIO, WHAT HAPPENED?!” Maria shrieked, her face darting between you, Javi, and the blood running down your leg. 

“I don’t know what to tell you Maria, the baseball game back there got pretty heated. Those kids are ruthless.” Your sarcasm clearly did not go over well, as Maria’s expression was now flooded with confusion and panic. 

Javi rolled his eyes. “Tell Don he needs to get his drunk-ass together. He dropped a bottle and it shattered, some of the pieces flew into her leg. I’m guessing the first aid kit is still in the upstairs closet by the bathroom?” 

“Yes, mijo, but-” 

“No, Maria, she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, I’ll take care of her.” Boy, have you never been so excited about being injured. 

“I don’t know, Maria, I think I’m dying!” You flopped one of your free hands up to your forehead, doing your best to look like a tragic Renaissance painting. 

You could tell Javi was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that Maria was already halfway to dialing 911. “She’ll be fine, I promise.” 

Javi used his hip to slide open the door, leading you through the kitchen and up the staircase. All jokes aside and adrenaline subsiding, you were now beginning to realize how much pain you were in as your legs jostled while Javi carried you up the stairs. You scrunched your face and bit down on your lip to try and ignore the pain, but it wasn’t doing much. Javi looked down at you, noticing your face. 

“Hermosa, are you okay? We’re almost upstairs, I’m sorry about that pendejo.” 

“Yup, I’ve never been better. I feel great, actually. LOVE having this piece of glass stuck in my leg!” You noticed your sarcasm meter was probably getting a little too high for the situation. “No it’s okay, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” 

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you bleed out on the patio.” As you crossed the threshold of the upstairs bathroom, Javi shifted you in his arms and sat you down on the top of the bathroom counter. He gave the top of your knees a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He made his way out of the bathroom, hearing him rummage around through the closet in the hallway. 

“Do I really have a choice?” You heard him chuckle from outside the door. He came back holding a first aid box and a few towels and squatted down in front of your leg dangling off of the countertop. 

“You help women take glass shards out of their legs at barbeques often?” You gestured down at the first aid kit, noting how fast he had found it. 

“Surprisingly, you are the first.” Opening up the kit, he pulled out a few supplies. “I spent a lot of time playing here as a kid, and definitely went through my fair share of band-aids.” Carefully, he placed one of his hands around the back of your leg, pulling it closer towards him. You were surprised that with hands as big as his, he was incredibly gentle. 

Trying to downplay your pain, you looked down at him and asked, “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Peña? Do I get to keep my leg, or are you destined to carry me everywhere for the rest of your life?” 

“As much as I would love to, I think you’re gonna make it out okay.” He plucked a pair of tweezers out of the kit and looked up at you with remorse. “I’m gonna pull it out, but it’s probably gonna hurt. Is that okay?” He rested his free hand on top of your thigh. “You can squeeze my hand if you need to.” 

Without hesitation, you released the hand that was gripping the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles were turning white. You slowly interlaced his fingers with his, his thumb stroking back and forth over the side of your hand. 

“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” You said, beginning to squeeze his hand tighter. 

“Okay. 3…2…” 

“FUCK! Agh, so much for 1?! Holy shit, that hurt!” You were trying everything in your power to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, trying to be as tough as possible. 

“I could say the same for my hand. Jesus, you’ve got a death grip, hermosa. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t broken.” You released his hand as he laughed and shook it out, now using both to rummage through the first aid kit again. Pulling out some gauze and tape, he carefully wrapped up the cut and tied up the bandage to hold it in place. He was so attentive making sure that you were properly bandaged up, that it wasn’t until he heard your small sniffle that he looked back up at you, noticing a small tear streaming down your face.

Generally, you prided yourself on being pretty damn tough. Growing up with brothers, you learned to play rough and deal with the consequences. More importantly, you hated crying in front of other people. Trying to quickly regain your composure, you tried to subtly wipe the tears off your cheeks, hoping Javi wouldn’t notice. Slowly, he rose up, placing one hand on the counter just outside your hips, the other coming up to your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness under your eyes. 

“I promise I’m not a baby, this shit just really hurt.” You said, trying to defend yourself. His hand cupped the side of your face.

“Cariño, you don’t need to apologize.” He leaned his body in closer to yours, your faces now only inches away. “You’ve been un soldado, if anything.” 

“A what?” You were surprised your brain even had the capacity for questioning at this point. 

“A trooper” Javi leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much so, you’re making it hard for me to try and take care of you, considering how damn stubborn you are.” His words whispered down the side of your neck, followed by another kiss. You could feel your heart racing, your breath becoming heavier with each word. Slowly, his body shifted down between the opening of your legs, his hands wrapping around your injured calf, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your bandage. 

Your mouth hung half open, praying that your brain would concoct a half coherent sentence. Your hand traveled down to brush the top of Javi’s soft, curled hair, forcing his gaze to shift back up to you. “Last time I checked, I don’t think doctors are supposed to kiss their patients” 

He stood back up, both hands now cupping your face as he leaned in and whispered, “well it’s a good thing I’m not really a doctor, am I?” Your mouths met with a magnetic attraction. His hand had now slipped behind your head, raking his fingers through your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your hands that had been grasping the edge of the counter as a form of self control now freed themselves, grasping around Javi’s biceps, reciprocating the closeness you craved. Your body lit up with an electricity that no kiss had ever made you feel before. His hands began traveling down your body, his intensity causing you to let out a small, breathy moan. Your legs slowly wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs as his hands grasped the meat of your thighs as they slowly slid their way under the hem of your dress. 

“JAVI?! MIJA?! IS EVERYTHING OKAY?? DO I NEED TO CAL 911?? THERE BETTER NOT BE BLOOD ON MY BATHMAT, I JUST WASHED IT.” 

Both out of breath, your mouths parted as Maria’s shrill voice carried up the stairs. You had blacked out for the last few minutes, forgetting you were sitting on top of your co-worker’s bathroom counter, door wide open. Javi rested his head in the crook of your shoulder as he whispered “God dammit, Maria…” under his breath.

“Impeccable timing on her part, to be fair.” 

“IF YOU DON’T RESPOND I’M COMING UP THERE AND CALLING THE AMBULANCE!” 

“All good, Maria!” You shouted down, Javi’s face still resting by your neck. “Dr. Peña told me it was a close one, but I’m  gonna make it out alive.” You both giggled. “We’ll be down in a second!” 

“Are you gonna clear me to walk, or am I getting carried again?” You said, giving him a playful nudge.

He gave you a quick kiss. “Just take it easy okay?” Grabbing your wait, he lifted you up and helped you off the counter. He gestured his arm towards the doorway. “After you.” 

After you had hobbled your way down the stairs, you and Javi found empty patio chairs along the fence of the yard. After you had sat down semi-comfortably, Javi started making his way back toward the house. “Drink?” He said, looking back at you and continuing his stride. 

“As long as you don’t drop it on me, absolutely.” 

You were shocked by how quickly the next few hours went by as you sat and talked with Javi. The conversation flowed between you effortlessly as you covered the basic conversations, like your likes and dislikes, favorite things and families. You had even worked up the nerve to tell him how you ended up in Laredo after you broke things off with Paul. Now a few drinks in, your liquid courage had you diving in deeper. 

“So, tell me this, Javi. You are arguably one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. You nursed me back to health from what was clearly a life or death experience, and you have impeccable taste, besides the fact that you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Star Wars, or E.T., which I will forgive you for, as long as you do good on your promise to watch it with me. You have also proven to be an exceptional kisser. How the hell are you still single? Is there something I’m missing? Are you like, secretly married and have a family, a serial killer, wanted by the FBI, are the people at this party a part of some sort of secret cult that’s gonna kidnap me?! C’mon, there’s gotta be something?!” 

Javi coughed on the beer that he had just sipped down his throat. “Jesus quierda, no! What would make you think that?” 

“You seem too good to be true, there’s gotta be a flaw somewhere, c’mon!!” 

“Well, I’m gonna take the high road and assume you’re not any of those things, I could say the same about you. This is most fun I’ve had since being back home.” 

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a questionable gaze. 

“I’m being serious, hermosa.” You could feel in his words that he meant it. 

“Well I’m glad. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time too.” 

You sat in a comfortable silence. Looking around, you noticed that not only had the sun gone down, but the once bustling backyard had now dwindled down to only a few party goers on the patio and a small crowd inside. The last thing you wanted to do was leave, but you also didn’t want to be walking alone at night, half hobbling from your injury. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, but I probably should start waking home before it gets too late. Not a huge fan of being a woman walking alone in the dark, ya know?” 

Javi quickly set down his beer. “You were going to walk home?!” 

“What, I’m not allowed to walk?! I don’t live that far, and it won’t take that long, I’ll be fine!” You crossed your arms in defiance.

“The shuffle across the yard I watched you take to go to the bathroom an hour ago says otherwise. Hermosa, let me drive you home, please?” 

Too in pain to prove a point, you let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.” 

“Thank you. I know you CAN do it, but I will carry your stubborn ass back before I let you walk. Here.” 

He extended his arm out to help pull you out of your seat. He followed your lead taking slow steps across the yard, leading you out to the street where his truck was parked. Before you could argue, he opened up the passenger side door and lifted you up into the seat. “Just gotta get the keys from my pops and then I’ll be right back. 

“What if I try to make a break for it?” 

“It won’t take me long to catch you.” 

“Touché.” 

Javi closed the door behind him as he headed his way back into the house. Watching him in stride, you really needed to thank whoever made those jeans. 

Javi found his dad amongst his friends at the kitchen table inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. “Hey Pops, can I have the keys?” 

Chucho took a sip of his beer and looked around at his friends. “Seems like things are going well then, huh?” The men chuckled to one another. “She’s very cute, Javi. Seems like she doesn’t put up with your Mireda either, I’m surprised she wants to spend more time with you!” 

“Well she lives close and walked here and after Don’s clumsy ass still broke a bottle in her leg, I’m not gonna let her walk home. Believe me, I was worried I was gonna have to carry her.” 

“I’m giving you a hard time, Javi. Here, take the keys. Don’t worry about me, I’m sure one of these fine gentleman will give this old man a ride home.” 

“Thanks pop.” Javi took the keys that were outstretched in his father’s hand. As he began to walk back out to the car, he grabbed Javi’s arm. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like you have tonight. It’s a good look on you, hijo.” 

[wifey-ohara]

hi can u plz write a Miguel ohara x reader where reader and Miguel r at a party and her drink gets spiked and Miguel takes her out of there and takes care of her the whole time

Ohhh! I love it👀✨✨✨

(Almost) roffied

miguel x fem reader

Notes/tw: druged up reader, mentions of drugs, vomiting, sickness, dark themes, miguel taking care of you, comfort, fluff with some angst at the start

"Hey there pretty" the man that slid beside you said, eyeing you up and down

Your gaze went to eye him, and he didn't feel right

With a smile you rejected him "thank you but, i have a partner" looking at your drink again, taking a sip from the flavor-full liquor

"come on, cutie, he doesn't have to know, besides I'm sure I'm way better than him"

"I'm not interested" you repeated looking forward

A loud thud was heard taking your attention

You didn't know that in that moment of surprise that creep had put something in your drink

You didn't know that the guy turned whiter than a ghost when he saw miguel coming and taking a seat next to you with a kiss

________________________________________________

"love, are you ok?" miguel asked seeing how off you looked

"yeah.. Just a bit dizzy" you answered, finger tips pressing on the bridge of your nose

Miguel's gaze darted over the tall cup you just finshed, eyes narrowing, he reached to it, bringing it to his nose,and sniffing it

And then he smelled it, the sick undersmell of medicine, overpowered by whatever fruits this alcohol was made with

"what?" you poped his bubble of thoughts looking at him with half-lidded eyes

"someone drugged this!" he snapped

You eyes went wide

"i- i need to- go to the bathroom!" you sputtered breathing turning erratic,standing up and almost falling over,the world spinned

"hey hey!" miguel stood up, taking your forearms in his hands

He helped you to the bathroom and to a stall, and has his hand comforting you while you emptied your stomach into the toilet, rubbing circles on your back

"baby, i don't think throwing up now is gonna help any, let's just go home" he recommended

You nodded, panting

"I'm gonna pick you up" miguel announced, putting hands on your waist and pulling you towards him

Picking you up bridal style, he stood up, pushing the stall door and the bathroom's door with his shoulders and taking wide long steps towards the exit, thinking of what he's gonna do to the lowlife that did this to you,and for what they were planning to do, he's gonna kill them

'not now' he thought, 'now i have to take care of her'

And so he did, he put you gently in the car, adjecting the chair so it's laid all the way back

you were so out of it, mumbling,whipering,

"Miguel,my head hurts"you sobbed at some point during the ride back home

"I know,I know honey, wait just a bit longer we'll be home" he tried to comfort you,only to but met with a whine escaping your lips

he sighed,worried

________________________________________________

by the time you two arrived you were asleep, Miguel would have thought your sleeping form was so adorable,if not for what made you fall asleep

he got out of the car, went to the other side and opened the door to your seat

hea leaned over you watching the sweat covering your skin,the stiffness that didn't leave you even as you slept,you didn't look peaceful,

he sighed, moving a hand to brush hair that sticked to your forehead and face

"I'm gonna pick you up ok?i'm mot gonna hurt you " he announced, despite knowing that you're out cold ,maybe he said it to himself more than for you

he picked you up and held you close to him hoping the closeness would make you ease up even for a little bit

and it did

you pressed yourself to him , swinging an arm to his shoulders and hugging him

some relief washed over him knowing that you found some comfort

getting into the house and to the bedroom, Miguel put you on the bed, though the moment he tried letting you go you whined and tightened your grip on his shoulders

he held you back up immediately,him bent over the bed and you clinging to him ,now with your legs wrapped around him

"love,you have to let go"

all he got in return was an angry whine

"but I need to take of you"

"I'm cared for like this"

it was floppy and barely Understandable,but it made Miguel's heart explode,to hear you admit that in times where you were weak and needed help and comfort ,you found then in him

he sighed,and flooped onto the bed with you

he would take off your shoes after you fell asleep again,get you some water,change you into something more comfortable, do that himself,but after you fell asleep

[synthwavecryptid]

Can’t sleep, so I’m thinking about how Hosea said himself he spent a year drinking after Bessie died

(putting all my thoughts on it under a cut because alcoholism)

Like. It’s already bad enough that he chased the bottom of a bottle for a year, and while I’m curious as to what broke that habit cycle, I’m also curious how the fallout went

Because recovery is ugly. It isn’t easy, even when weaning off in a controlled environment. Cold turkey even worse. It’s an addiction, and that comes with withdrawal. So I know, for fact, this man was sick as a damn dog for WEEKS.

I’m just. Very heart sore thinking about him highstrung and anxious, pacing around camp when he should be laying down because he’s too jittery to run a con and his hands too shaky to hold a gun. Can’t sleep for shit, sweating through his shirts, and dropping weight because he’s unable to keep much of anything down, living off of weak herbal tea and biscuits. Running the whole gamut of extremes from exhausted, to furious, to tearfully begging for a drink and to keep him away from drink in turns.

I’m also of the mind that Dutch is not the caretaking type, is awkward with comfort and out of his depth with nursing, but he does his damnedest to do right by Hosea anyways.

Dutch may get overwhelmed, and frustrated, and sometimes just plain scared, but he always comes back bearing clean clothes, fresh tea, or a book to read to Hosea while he’s flat out and fighting hallucinations.

It may also be borne of selfishness, and Dutch’s brand of possessiveness, because without Annabelle Hosea is Dutch’s anchor; and without Bessie, Dutch can have Hosea entirely to himself again like the good ol days. I don’t personally think he hated her, per se, but I do think he was viciously jealous.

So now they’ll weather this storm together, married in action but not law like Bessie was and Dutch never can be; for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do they part.

(hearing about Hosea’s struggles hit me in the feelings pretty hard because alcoholism got my ass too. not as badly, and my partner hadn’t died, but it still was a 0/10 experience. I’ve been sober a few years now. You’re not alone 🩷)

[thekillingmoonmoon]

guys my age

Pairing: Kishibe x Fem! Reader Warnings: NSFW, age gap (Kishibe is however old he is – 50? Reader is late twenties), smoking, alcohol,  reader goes through a breakup but it’s not a bad one Length: 4k Song: Guys My Age – Hey Violet

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you read your phone’s screen again and cussed, throwing yourself down on the hotel bed with a thump. “Trouble in paradise?” Kishibe looked over from the windowsill, the smoke swirling around his head in a sunlit halo. “More like, good riddance to bad rubbish,” you groaned, dropping your phone to the mattress beside you. “At least one of my problems has the good grace to sort itself out,” you grumbled, leaning back and pinching the bridge of your nose. “Which one of your problems was it? Rent? The boyfriend? Makima?” you peered at Kishibe from where you lay, squinting at him in confusion. Since when did he care?

“If it was Makima, I think we’d be in a very different position right now,” You answered, gesturing to the rundown hotel you were currently staying in. Kishibe scoffed out a chuckle and took a sip from his flask, offering it to you when you eyed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he drank. You took the flask with thanks and threw it back, relishing the honeyed burn of the whiskey as it spilt down your supple throat. You missed how Kishibe watched you drink, how his dark eyes narrowed when a drop of liquor slipped past your lips and down your chin, trickling in its cinnamon sweetness down your silken neck. You cleared your throat.

 “It’s the boyfriend,” you chuckled drily, “The trash took itself out this time.” Kishibe raised a brow. “Tsunada broke up with you?” once more, you squinted at Kishibe, wondering when he had ever bothered learning the name of the third division hunter you were dating for the last six months. Emphasis on “were”, as the man in question had just broken up with you for being ‘too serious’. “Yep,” You flopped back on the bed, a blood spatter of red and white on the navy sheets.

“You should wash,” Kishibe instructed, and you groaned, wanting to throw yourself on the bed and sleep for the next ten years. But Kishibe had drinking plans, and as his partner, it was expected that you join him. You rolled yourself upward and grabbed your bag from the end of the bed, leaving Kishibe to seat himself on the twin bed on the other side of the room. You threw his towel at him as you closed the bathroom door, muttering about ‘old men getting sick’ and you not wanting to play nursemaid if he got ill from leaving his hair wet. You barely heard his reply but knew it had something to do with what you’d look like in a nurse’s uniform. You flushed at the thought, and slapping your cheeks at your embarrassment, stepped into the shower. The room still smelled of him, of heady musk and light pine, of cinnamon cigarettes and expensive aftershave, and as you breathed him in, you realised how truly fucked you were.

You were in love with Kishibe. Undoubtedly, irrevocably in love.  After three years as his rookie partner, you’d fallen into a neat rhythm with the older man, quickly becoming the most efficient pair of hunters in Public Safety. The rumours swirled in your wake, the young pup to charm the old war dog, the only partner to last through Kishibe’s rough training and still come out of it semi-sane on the other side. Not that you’d claim to be sane. Not after all the things you had seen. Not after falling for a man nearly twice your age and as emotionally unavailable as a stray black cat. Tsunada had been a distraction, as had the three guys before him. All young and bright-eyed boys whose reckless charm and careless caresses had only barely filled the aching gap in your heart, so empty of cynicism and bitter whiskey.  You undid your hair, grimacing at the flicker of dried blood that fell from your tresses. You plunged in to wash your hair, scrubbing your skull so hard, hoping that you could scrub yourself clean of Kishibe.

Today had been another successful hunt, way out in the boondocks of some country town, where a Corruption Devil had settled in. It had taken you more than half a day to get to the town, but less than two hours to get rid of the devil, and now you were stuck halfway home, forced to stay the night in a hotel. It wasn’t the first time you had been forced to share a hotel room with Kishibe, but it was the first time neither had been so mortally wounded to require around-the-clock nursing. You wondered if the same easy silence that filled your sunlit hours would pervade the darkness as well. You hoped it would, and the warm uneasiness that had been building up in your lower stomach over the last year or so would disappear into the night, along with the sounds of Kishibe’s chainsaw snoring.

You shook your hair out, happy only once the water ran clean and stepped out of the shower. You needed a distraction. From your ex-boyfriend. From Kishibe. For whatever feelings you had for Kishibe.  You rinsed yourself off and rummaged in your bag, pulling out a fresh white shirt. You thought to the night of drinking ahead and wondered if Kishibe would let you get some company for yourself this evening. You needed it. Needed the rush of playing cat-and-mouse, of fumbling hands in the dark, of losing yourself in someone else’s body for the first time in months. You left a few buttons undone, showing off a tasteful sliver of cleavage as you huffed and puffed back into your trousers. You did your hair and face, sure to put on a lipstick that screamed ‘fuck me,’ and stepped out of the bathroom.

Kishibe choked on his flask, hacking up what sounded like half a lung when he saw you exit the bathroom.

 “What?” was all you said, raising your eyebrow as the man, “did you forget I was a woman?” Kishibe could only cough in response. You grabbed your jacket,

“Let’s go.”

…

You weren’t drunk enough for this. Not for this drivelling conversation and certainly not for the slimy pickup lines slithering from the hunter across the table. Kishibe was lost in a conversation, nodding and hemming along to whatever was being said by the senior hunters. You needed a smoke. You scrambled to your feet, meeting Kishibe’s eyes as he looked across at your movement. You motioned that you were going for a smoke and he nodded in understanding.

You broke free into the darkness, breathing in the heady scent of wet asphalt and city lights. You rounded a corner into an alley and fiddled around in your jacket pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a light. You flickered the flame to life, thinking of all the times you had lit Kishibe’s smokes, leaning in between gaps in the rain, sharing breaths in the muggy air. Smoke trickled from your mouth in a dark dragon of grey and blue, the clouds catching the reflection of the neon sign of the bar above your head.

 “Hey baby,” came a dark coo, and you tilted your head to peer into the dark.  “Kishibe?” you asked, despite knowing it wasn’t him. You would know his voice anywhere, that deep soft rasp that stirred your lower stomach into a fluttering of iron butterflies. “Aw, darling, you wound me. As if I would ever come close to that gross old bastard.” It was the hunter from before, the one whose pickup lines were worse than any of the drivel Tsunada had fed you. “I’m not interested,” you gave a polite smile and prepared to go back inside. “Really, because you were giving me bedroom eyes back there,” he approached you, coming closer and closer, tainting the air with the bitter tang of beer and old cigarettes  “You made an incorrect assumption then,” you corrected him, straightening out and preparing to throw your cigarette out onto the damp concrete. A pity, you wanted to savour it. He crowded up to you, using his height against you, casting a shadow over your shorter form. You looked up at him, tilting your head and squinting. “Aw, don’t be so frigid, baby,” he leaned his hand above your head, effectively pinning you between the wall and his body. You sighed. You really didn’t want to start a fight, especially not with another hunter. “She isn’t being frigid, boy, she’s being polite,” oh, that smoke-saturated voice soothed you, getting you to drop your guard as you saw Kishibe flicker into view. “Get lost, punk,” he said, motioning for the guy to walk, and the idiot listened, suddenly aware that he was between the two toughest devil hunters in the agency.  Kishibe came to stand beside you, cigarette already clenched between his teeth. You lit up for him, relishing the way he leaned in close, the scent of his aftershave rolling down your spine. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to you.

“Did I ever tell you that you have shit taste in men?” he asked, and you snorted. “No, but I believe you,” you answered, shaking your head. “Why do you go for punks like him?” “I don’t know,” you huffed, “their boyish charm,” you lied. Kishibe tsked. "Clearly you need a real man,” he said, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. What was he playing at? You shrugged.  “Unfortunately, those are hard to come by, unless you know any takers?” you jibed, a little gutsy, now that you weren’t looking Kishibe in the dark, depthless eyes. “I could name a few,” he grunted, and this time you properly turned and looked at him. He took a step toward you, moving closer than ever before, a mere breath away. He looked down at you, all rippling muscles and rugged scars. “And would your name be on that list?” You closed your eyes as you asked, hating to see the reaction in his eyes. You could feel him, almost sense his body around you, surrounding you. “Well, you’d never have to go out dressed like this again,” a single calloused finger traced the low fit of your shirt, almost brushing your breasts. “Or mess around with those boys again,” he rumbled, his finger trailing up your throat, where he gripped your chin.

“Tell me, princess,” he rumbled, “did that bastard even make you cum?” You were sure he could feel the blush radiating off your cheeks, but you bit your lower lip and shook your head. The noise that left Kishibe’s throat was dark and deep as it vibrated through you, sending shivers down your spine as he leaned down. He was just a whiskey’s breath away, all cinnamon and sinful musk, his dark eyes watching your face as he drew closer.

 “Tell me to stop,” he said, and you threw all caution to the wind. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down, crashing your lips to his, tasting the bitter tang of beer on his lips. For a moment, Kishibe paused, his eyes wide open, before he was kissing you, driving you back into the wall, stealing every gasp of air from your desperate lips.

 “Fuck,” he cursed as he pinned you to the cold bricks behind you, pressing his tongue past your teeth and flooding you with the taste of him. His hands seemed reluctant to touch you, so you grabbed them from the wall behind you and settled his hands on your waist and hips. His thick hands were eager, filling you with warmth as he gripped and groped at your flesh. His hips found yours, pressing you even deeper into the wall, his thigh coming in between your legs to push at the apex of your legs. You whine, feeling him rub his thigh over your needy cunt and his hips stutter against yours.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he gripped your hips, rocking them over his thigh, fucking you on his leg. You moan his name, and he groans, stopping and grabbing your hands as they explore his toned chest.

For a moment you think he wants to stop, that he’s rejecting you, and you feel like you could curl up and disappear, but he reads the bright fear in your eyes and leans in, pressing a single chaste kiss to your swollen lips.

 “Relax doll, I’m only taking you somewhere else,” he rumbled, “somewhere no one can interrupt us.”

You blindly followed him through the dark, stumbling behind him as he makes the short trip back to your dingy hotel room. He held your hand the whole time, large and warm and engulfing yours in its calloused grip. Once in the elevator, he turned to you, dark eyes suddenly serious, despite the hunter’s light that shone deep in their murky depths.

 “This is your last chance, sweetheart,” He stepped closer, crowding you into the corner of the lift, his trench coat shielding you from view, “Tell this dirty old man to stop.”

“Why would I?” you answered, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket, reaching up on your tiptoes to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, where his scar severed his face. He groaned at your featherlight touch, his hand coming up behind your head to meld your lips to his, holding you tight to his body, so that you could feel his muscles ripple against your tender touch. He only tore away when the elevator dinged your sudden arrival and then he was gone again, practically dragging you through the door and pressing you up against the cool wood, his mouth meeting yours once again. He pushed your jacket from your shoulders, gripping your upper arms tight as he laid a trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw. He sucked your skin into his mouth, nipping and suckling at the skin until he was sure he had left his mark on you. You shucked his jacket off as well, throwing the heavy canvas aside and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He was quick to do the same, exposing your tits to his hungry mouth as he cupped you beneath your bra.

 “Fuck, look at these tits,” he cooed, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh, “So fucking beautiful, better than I ever imagined,” he groaned, biting and teasing your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He scraped his teeth up your chest, slithering his hands down the slope of your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants. He made quick work of the belt and zipper, sending your pants to your knees as he teased your clit through the fabric. Your hips bucked, unused to any decent touch and you blushed, flushed hot by the sudden attention after being neglected for so long. Kishibe kissed you harshly again, biting your lower lip back with a pop before skimming down your body. He nipped at your stomach, lathing his love over your belly, pulling down your panties. He watched a thin string of your arousal cling to the fabric and he hummed, helping you step out of your clothes. He knelt before you, reverent in his worship, fumbling prayer from his scarred lips as he licked and sucked at the skin around your cunt. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and sunk his tongue into your cunt, his huge hands engulfing your hips to stop you from bucking onto his face. He licked a slow stripe up your pussy, finding your clit and swirling his tongue around it until you could feel your cunt clench around nothing.

“You’re gonna cum on my face, princess,” Kishibe told you, murmuring into your slick silken skin, “and then you’re gonna cum on my cock, yeah?”, he lapped at you before you could respond, pulling a low keen from your pouty lips before your voice broke into shattered pants. His tongue worked wonders, pressing the hot wet muscle up and into your pussy, effectively fucking you with his tongue. His one hand left your hips, trailing down your thigh and coming up below his chin. The first finger felt like heaven, pushing past your soft velvet walls into your pulsing pussy, reaching, searching until he found the spot that had you shuddering, hips shaking in his grip. He slowly pumped his finger inside you, pushing and pressing as you whined and moaned above him, his mouth never leaving your clit as he traced the kanji of his name over the bundle of nerves. The second finger had your knees buckling, his fingers thicker and heavier than your own, stretching your cunt out to take his cock. He kept sucking at your clit, sending shivers down your spine as he worked you toward climax. His third finger was a surprise, welcomed with a hushed gasp and whimper from your swollen lips as he pushed his knuckles past your puffy folds.

“That’s it, doll,” he encouraged, “take them all.” You could feel pressure pulsing in your lower stomach, sending strawberry starbursts up your spine. You felt dizzy, drowning in the sound of Kishibe lapping and slurping at your cunt. You could feel your climax build, and by the clench of your cunt, Kishibe knew you were close too. He renewed his pumping into your cunt and sucked hard on your clit, tossing you over the edge into a starstruck spiral of static pleasure. He groaned as you came, sucking and lapping up all that seeped from your pretty pussy.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbled, rising from a crouch and kissing you hard. He gripped your hips to his, holding you up against the wall as your knees shook. You tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning at the saccharine tartness as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He stepped back with you stumbling after, holding you upright and pushing you softly down onto the nearest mattress. You bounced on the springy softness, looking up at Kishibe with wide doe-eyes, already fucked out on the orgasm wrought by his tongue and fingers. You stared at him through dreamy eyes, sitting up and reaching for his belt buckle.

 “Easy there, sweetheart,” Kishibe’s hands cover yours, “are you sure you want this?” he asked. You blinked up at him and grabbed his tie, tugging him further down to reach your eye level.

 “I want you, Kishibe,” you soothed, “show me how a real man fucks.” He swore then, unhooking his belt and dropping his pants quickly as he crawled over you on the bed.  You reached down to palm him through his boxers, revelling in the hissed breath that caught low in his throat as you gripped his thick length. He was big, thick and heavy in your hand as you slipped your fingers below his waistband. You smoothed your fingers over his velvet head, smearing pre down his shaft as you pumped him in your hands. He groaned, a restrained grunt spilling past clenched teeth as he moved your hands away and shifted his boxers down and away. You were now bare to each other, your glistening pussy to his twitching length, chest to chest, skin to skin. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time softly as he ran his cock through your soaked folds. You moaned as his cockhead hit your clit, feeling waves of static ripple down your spine. He pressed his cockhead at your entrance.

“You ready, princess?” he gravelled, and you nodded eagerly, your soft silken folds leaving trails of slick on his pulsing skin.

 “Yes,” You panted, “please, Kishibe,” you huffed, the breath pushed from your lungs as he began to ease his cock into your cunt. You groaned at the tight strawberry stretch, sending sparks through your limbs. He filled you slowly, surely, stretching you out until you felt split by his heavy cock.

 “Fuck, doll,” Kishibe paused, slinging your leg up onto his shoulder, “you’re so fucking tight, hah?” He pressed you into the mattress, leaning down and folding you in two as his cock sunk in to the hilt. You gasped, feeling him in the pit of your stomach, twitching in impatience. He paused for a brief moment, as the pair of you caught your breath, you reaching up to him to pull his head down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue and spit as he sucked on your lower lip. He moved languidly, rolling his hips back and out of your plush cunt, and back in with a muted hiss. He set a slow pace, making you feel every inch of him as he ebbed and flowed over your trembling body. His cock reached the deepest part of you, brushing up and over the points that had your eyes rolling back and jaw clenching. You muffled your whines with your hand, reaching up to bite your fist as Kishibe’s hips made contact with yours. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

 “Let me hear those noises, pretty girl, else I won’t be so gentle,” Kishibe warned, nipping the supple skin of your throat.

 “I never asked you to be gentle,” you pouted and prompted a low groan to trickle from Kishibe’s throat.

 “Why?” he snarled, “You want it rough, doll?” he asked, slamming his hips into you with a sudden rush. You scrambled, fingers white-knuckled as your fisted the sheets above your head, your back arching deep as he pressed the pressure point in your cunt.

 “Yes!” you exclaimed, pressing your tits up into his chest. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave a mark there come tomorrow, and pulled you onto his cock, stopping slightly before setting off at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin surrounded you, wet and sticky and soaked with sweat as Kishibe pounded mercilessly into your pussy, a string of grunts and growls spilling from his lips to your chest. You mewled, releasing your wrists to sink your fingers deep into the muscles of his back, feeling the muscles shift and ripple beneath your clawing nails. You were sure you drew blood, but couldn’t tell as pressure bloomed deep inside your core, burning through your limbs with the fury of a forest fire. Kishibe could feel you clench around him, so soft and strong as his cock pumped into your plush pussy. He stopped, grabbing you by the back of your knees and pushing your legs to your chest. He pistoned into your cunt with speed, his one hand coming down to rub quick circles around your clit. You quickly drew close to climax, feeling each press of his cock deep in your cunt and every swipe of his thumb sending you closer and closer.

“I’m gonna – “ You panted, “I’m gonna cum!” you breathed, keening as the first shudders of your body shook you to your core.

 “Then cum, sweetheart, cum for me,” he groaned in your ear, increasing pressure on your clit until you were shaking in the cage of his arms, limbs twitching and trembling as he fucked you through your high. His name was the only word to fall from your lips, slurred out slowly as he spilt himself deep into your cunt.

 “Fuck,” he grunted, holding himself over you as his hips stilled against yours. You whined when he pulled out, already missing the warmth of his hale body as he withdrew from you. He stepped into the bathroom briefly, exiting only when he saw you shakily try to get off the bed. He tipped you back onto the mattress, a warm washcloth in hand.

 “Don’t run away so fast,” he scolded, gently, rubbing at your battered thighs and leaking cunt.

 “I’m not running,” you said and he looked at you. He crouched before you and reached up to cup your jaw.

“You can run, I won’t stop you. But know that I’ll be coming for you,” he kissed your cheek, “You’re mine now, princess.”

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[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Such Effort V

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi x f!Reader

W/c: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, and we're getting into suggestive territory at the end

Summary Post 🔮🔮 Masterlist

Previous Part

He was sick to his stomach.

Kakashi pushed himself against the wall, wanting it to swallow him up and deliver him from this atrocious sight. But it wouldn't, and even if it could, Kakashi didn't truly want it - he wanted to keep watching you, even as you kept digging deeper into his chest and squeezing his heart with your bare hand.

"Kakashi! My dear rival!"

Not here, not now, please.

Clapping a hand on Kakashi's shoulder, Gai laughed, "I thought you preferred to drink alone."

"I do," he replied curtly.

"So, you've got a devil on your shoulder tonight, is that it?"

"No." He had an angel in front of him, busy blessing another. Kakashi sighed, and looked to Gai, finally. He shrugged, "Care for a brief contest?"

"Would I ever!" Gai beamed. "What's the plan?"

"Shots - most in a minute."

"You're on."

Sliding his arm around Kakashi's shoulders, Gai pulled him up to the bar. The black haired man ordered a slide of shots, six for each to start. That seemed a reasonable number to Kakashi as the bartender set the twelve glasses on the bar and started pouring Tequila in them, going down the line in a continuous pour.

Not touching his mask, Kakashi and Gai both picked up their first shots, clinking them quickly before popping them on the counter and taking them back. Gai violently shuttered as Kakashi reached for the next shot. Bass-filled rhythms occupied every corner of the izakaya, making Kakashi feel his heart beating that much more strongly.

The competition was on.

Bang. Bang. Bang. His fifth hit his throat awfully, but Kakashi relished the burn, letting it cloud his thoughts of you, as much as was possible. He reached for his sixth while Gai took his fourth, taking it down in two gulps and then groaning after.

"You're crap at this," the silver haired man laughed lowly.

"No I'm not!" Gai argued immediately, picking up his fifth.

Kakashi just shrugged and took his sixth shot, his mask starting to get very wet. The alcohol on the fabric made his chewed-up lips burn, and made his nose sting sharply, but still, he didn't mind.

Looking back at you, Kakashi was ready to either jump right up, or to order another twelve shots. He didn't know. Watching you smile up at Raido after breaking from a particularly challenging sequence made Kakashi's heart clench, and all he knew was that he absolutely hated seeing you with another man. Despite the utter disgust he was feeling, even Kakashi had to admit that the two of you were great dance partners.

But you and Kakashi would make better dance partners. That was common sense.

"Gah- fuck!" Gai coughed, covering his mouth.

Lazily, Kakashi looked back at his friend as he drew deep, shaking breaths slowly. His face was very red, and his throat seemed to be actively spasming. With a small chuckle and a heavy tongue, Kakashi asked, "Wrong pipe?"

"I don't even know," Gai gasped, clearing his throat harshly. He shook his head and choked out, "We have- eugh- to shelf this contest for a day that I can- sss- control my throat."

"Whatever y'say," Kakashi agreed with another bop of his shoulders, taking up Gai's final shot. He knocked it back without a whisper of issue.

Gai coughed beside him, and Kakashi, again, looked to you. You were just so gorgeous, he couldn't resist.

But, you had left the dancefloor.

A little panicked, Kakashi looked around the izakaya. The sea of people hid you, allowing you to blend in with the crowd. He suddenly felt all of the shots he had consumed creep up on him, as if the Tequila had anything to do with his unfruitful search.

"I swear to every star up in the sky-" And he was thanking them.

"Y'disappeared," Kakashi remarked dumbly. 

His eyebrows furrowed at the slur of his speech as he turned to you, standing right behind him. In an instant, he stopped caring about how stupid he had sounded, because you were finally looking at him. Kakashi raised his hand to your angelic face, but you dodged him.

"Let's go," you said quickly. "You're supposed to be at home; safe, sound, and resting."

"Y'wanna take me home?" Kakashi asked with a smirk.

You nodded, putting your hand around Kakashi's arm and tugging a little. "Yeah, c'mon."

"Are y'gonna stay w'me?"

He remained still in his seat, just smiling and feeling your cold hand on his bicep. You squeezed the muscle a little and Kakashi flexed his arm in an attempt to impress you. He couldn't tell if it worked, because your grip loosened considerably.

"I... I mean, I kinda..."

You were so close to agreeing, but the words died in your throat when your, allegedly, dear friend sidled up to you. Fuck, Kakashi still couldn't remember her name, even while looking at her face. Her face wasn't even so nice to look at, not like yours. Her face couldn't launch a single ship, let alone a thousand.

"Raido asked if you were in for a round of shots, Y/n," she said lowly, focusing all of her attention on you, as if Kakashi didn't exist.

Quickly, you looked at your friend, then back to Kakashi. Conflict was written on your face, when it should have been so easy. Slowly, you explained, just louder than the music, "I, er, I'm Hatake's assigned medic's apprentice, I... kinda have to get him back to his house."

Oh.

"He's an adult," your friend sneered, rolling her eyes and refusing to look at Kakashi. "He can make his own bastard decisions."

"Yeah..." you whispered, looking back at Kakashi one more time before you looked at your friend. A weak smile came to your face and you nodded, "You're right, Kas. I'm stupid tonight, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, girlie," your raven haired friend grinned, linking her arm with yours. Before she took you away from Kakashi, your friend glanced at him, sending a dagger-like glare at him before she jeered, "Why do you even want to fuck her around? Can't you leave a good thing, be good?"

Oh.

There was a point to be made there, Kakashi couldn't deny that. But he knew you were inherently different, that he felt an entirely novel emotion when it came to you.

When air was finally allowed back into his lungs, you and your friend had already started walking back to your table. 

"Go, stupid. What are you doing?" Gai urged him, pushing Kakashi's shoulder toward you. "If you don't, then she'll think you are just trying to just her around."

He was right, which properly shocked Kakashi out of his catatonia. Kakashi had to tell you how he felt, properly, and he had to do it before that friend of yours whispered any more poison into your ear.

He sprung out of his seat and was behind you in three long strides. Kakashi took your wrist, pulling you back to him and away from your friend.

"Kakashi, what-"

"I don'wanna fuck y'around," he slurred. Kakashi swore under his breath, mad that his mouth was so uncooperative as he added, "You mean more t'me than you could ever imagine."

"Pft, yeah, right," your friend scoffed.

Kakashi tore his eyes away from yours and landed on the dark brown eyes of your friend. Lowly, he sighed, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have ever even touched you - that was a mistake." He looked back at you and continued, "Seriously, Y/n, you're the girl for me. Please, please, please give me a chance. I'm begging you."

Parting your pretty lips, you looked deeply into Kakashi's eye, then flickered back to your friend. Your face fell and Kakashi looked at her face, not particularly having taken in the harshness of his words. Kakashi could see the shine of tears in her eyes, and hoped to every star that he hadn't just made things worse than they already were.

"Kasumi-"

You moved to touch your friend with your free hand, but she dodged you quickly, looking away and sniffling, "It's all good, Y/n. Fuck."

"Nah, babe," you said sympathetically, moving to catch your friends eyes. "Really - if you say nay, I'll shake him, I promise."

Fucking what? Woah, woah, woah, that was a terrible deal. What if Kasumi-

"Yay," she mumbled, smiling at you smally. "Go... Fujita-San will be pissed if he finds out you let one of his patients loose for the night and did nothing to stop him."

Great deal, totally acceptable outcome.

Kakashi let go of your wrist when you moved to hug Kasumi. You put your arms around her chest while she wrapped around your neck. Over your shoulder, Kasumi gave Kakashi a sharp cut-eye before motioning two fingers to her eyes, then at him. She would be watching.

Acknowledging her threat, Kakashi dipped his head and Kasumi let go of you. Then you leaned back in, cupping your mouth against her ear. There was no point in the whispering, Kakashi thought, the band on the stage was so loud that the three of you were already having to practically yell.

"Shut up! Ew, why would you say that?" She roared in a laugh. Kasumi cautioned a look back at the table of your friends before asking quietly, "Is it obvious?"

"Yeah, babe, terribly," you giggled. Then you shrugged, clapping her shoulder, "I want our sisterhood to be official, even if it's just in-law, so get going. Seal your deal."

"Oh, shush, you're getting my hopes up," she sighed. Then Kasumi looked back at you and kissed your cheek. "If you need anything..."

"Mhm, I know," you said, kissing her cheek in turn. "Maybe I'll see you later."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she said, waving her hand dismissively as she walked away.

Finally.

Kakashi drew a deep breath, looking at you as you watched Kasumi return to the table. You chewed on the corner of your bottom lip and slowly turned to look at Kakashi. Behind your eyes, a million thoughts raced, and Kakashi was ready to hear every single one, even if you were gearing up to... no, he didn't want to think about that angle.

"S'how about it?" He asked after a long moment of silence between the two of you.

"Let's get out of here," you replied quickly, seeming to snap back into reality. You grabbed Kakashi's arm again and, this time, he was quick to let your touch guide him.

Kakashi captured Gai's eyes, and nodded at the man, who still sat at the bar. Gai smiled widely as you lead Kakashi right to your brother's table. About eight men sat around, drinks in front of them, with only Kasumi to diffuse the dastardly level of testosterone that emanated from the table. A few of your brother's friends looked amongst each other, while Raido and Genma stared at Kakashi with twitches in their eyes.

"I'll meet you back at home, probably," you told Genma as you reached over him to grab your cloak. 

You kissed his cheek while straightening out, but Genma caught your wrist, keeping you bent over and close to his face. He shook his head and spoke too lowly for Kakashi to hear, but he could tell it was about him.

To both Kakashi and Genma's surprise, you flicked off Genma's hand and spat, "Call me that again and I'll poison the next meal you eat."

He didn't. Oh, he better have not.

"Call you what, sweetheart?" Kakashi asked lowly, with perfect enunciation, as you straightened out, grabbing your waist with his large hand. Kakashi didn't ease his glare when Genma's eyes met his, only intensifying it as he said, "Watch your mouth."

"That's rich," Genma scoffed, crossing one of his legs over the other. "Y'know what? Two sluts. You're perfect for each other."

There we go. Let's do this.

But you were suddenly pushing Kakashi back in a hug.

He couldn't just throw you off, especially not to kick the shit out of your brother. So, he let you push him, your head pressed right in the center of his chest. 

"He's not worth it," you mumbled.

"Yeah." Kakashi considered your words. No, Genma wasn't worth ruining his relationship with you over, no matter how fucking awful he was. Kakashi sighed, finally ending his glare, "Yeah, you're right."

He maneuvered you to be under his arm as he turned around and began to walk out of the izakaya by himself. You sank into Kakashi, wrapping your arm around his waist and producing steam when your coldness combined with his inhumane warmth. 

Through the izakaya you went, and right out the front door. The air had an edge to it, but the alcohol in Kakashi's veins made him impervious to the cold. He worried that your cute, little dress wouldn't stand the test of the wind, but you had your cloak, which seemed to warm you just enough.

You shook your head quickly before descending the wooden stairs. As you marched down, you muttered angrily,  "What a fucking prick. Ugh."

"Then y'should've let me-"

"Bap. Don't even suggest it," you warned, cutting Kakashi off as he trailed behind you. Kakashi pursed his lips and began to walk beside you on the road. You shook your head again, and let a small smile form on your lips. "Anyway, I've never seen you in Kinka's... did you like it?"

"The drinks were decently priced," Kakashi answered, nodding slightly. "And the band was pretty good."

"Aren't they just?" You replied with a sudden burst of excitement. "I know the leader, he's also the owner of the izakaya - name's Haruki, do you know him?"

You spoke so quickly that Kakashi's brain was having the faintest trouble processing it all. Your voice was just so beautiful, and your face was so pretty, and your lips were so plush. Still, he understood you, and shook his head. "No, should I?"

"He's a fun man to know," you grinned. "In the days, when the izakaya's closed, he sometimes lets me sit-in on rehearsals - they play something called swing so the rehearsals are just, like, big-huge jam sessions."

"That's nice," he hummed, taken by the way your happiness elevated your looks. "So, is it one, continuous song, or are the songs distinct?"

"Well, it's like they've got a room of musical tunes," you told Kakashi with a chuckle. "Y'know... there are so many progressions, they just pick and choose from different songs, mash 'em together, and make something nice."

"It's a wonder it does sound so nice then," Kakashi chortled.

You nodded, looking back at the izakaya before smiling at Kakashi as you walked. "Yeah, some progressions rhyme, some ching, but most of them are clockwork."

Both you and Kakashi walked while staring at each other, trying to absorb the other's presence as best you could. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, but there were about a thousand things Kakashi wanted to say. But, with his larded tongue, he settled into the silence with a grin.

After a little while, you looked away, taking a deep breath, and then asked, "Why do you get so mad over Genma's stupid assholery? I get it when he's being rude to you, but when it's just me..."

"When it's just you, it's even worse," Kakashi stated. You looked at him with a cocked eyebrow and Kakashi nodded adamantly. "He has no right to call you a slut... even if, y'know-"

"Even if I am a slut?" You asked with narrowed eyes.

Yikes. Though the idea plagued him, he didn't want to insinuate anything. Quickly, Kakashi shook his head. "No, no, I didn't- well, yeah, but I didn't mean it like that."

"I get it, you've heard Genma call me a slut a couple times now," you sighed, looking at the ground below your moving feet. "It's just his new favourite word - it was hosebag about two weeks ago, which was an awful lot funnier... I'm not a slut, I promise."

"I know you're not a slut," Kakashi grinned. Internally, he was celebrating how different you were from him, thanking all the stars. 

"No, like... I'm really not a slut," you repeated as though you felt you had something to prove.

Your words made Kakashi chuckle lightly, "Are there degrees of slutitude?"

He noticed your face flush a bright red before you looked away completely, watching the buildings that you and he passed. Kakashi started to feel a strange curiosity bubble within him - he was very curious when it came to you, but he had never felt so... intrusive. Not even while looking through your file.

"I mean, I'm a virgin, Kakashi."

Next Part

[sicknessbysalem]

Day One: “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” | Sicktember 2024

i am so excited to be doing sicktember! This is my first time doing this event and i cannot wait to write more this month. i hope you guys enjoy my fics!

@sicktember (i don’t know if we are supposed to tag you… also i couldn’t find a tagging post so if i’m missing a tag please let me know!)

disclaimer: characters originally belonged to @simplysickness but were passed on to me to continue their stories

if you have any requests, questions, comments, concerns, etc., send them my way!

tw for implications of past alcohol abuse, overworking, nausea, fevers, vomiting, slightly overprotective partner behavior as a side effect of second hand trauma

Lex pushed open the door to their apartment, the cool night air clinging to his clothes as he stepped inside. The hallway was dimly lit, the soft glow from the living room spilling over the floor, casting long shadows.

He was exhausted, every muscle in his body aching from the relentless pace of the day. Back-to-back calls had kept him out far longer than he’d expected, and it was only now, as he was finally home, that he realized he hadn’t called or texted Soren to let him know he’d be late.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, his stomach twisting with guilt. Soren would be worried—no, more than worried. He knew how much his silence would unsettle Soren, especially given their history. The memory of those dark days, when Lex had turned to alcohol as an escape, still hung between them, a silent shadow that neither of them liked to acknowledge but both were always aware of.

Lex dropped his bag by the door, his movements slow and heavy as he peeled off his jacket, hanging it on the hook with a sigh. He was mentally preparing himself for the conversation that was about to unfold when he heard the soft padding of footsteps coming from the living room.

Soren appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of relief and something else—something tighter, edged with worry and a hint of anger. His arms were crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed, and the tension in his stance was unmistakable.

“You’re late,” Soren said, his voice steady, but there was an underlying edge to it that Lex couldn’t ignore.

Lex winced, running a hand through his hair, which was still slightly damp from the sweat of the day’s work. “I know, I’m sorry. I got caught up at work—calls just kept coming in, and I lost track of time.”

Soren didn’t respond immediately, his eyes scanning Lex’s face, searching for something. “You didn’t call,” he finally said, the hurt in his voice more evident now.

Lex sighed, the weight of his exhaustion pressing down on him even more heavily. “I know. I should have. I just… I was so caught up in everything, and by the time I thought about it, I was already on my way home.”

Soren’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze settling on a spot on the floor. “Do you know how worried I was? Not a single word from you, not even a text. I didn’t know if you were okay, if something had happened, or if…” His voice faltered, but he pushed through. “Or if you were out doing something else.”

Lex’s heart sank at the implication, knowing exactly what Soren was referring to. He stepped closer, trying to close the distance between them, but Soren held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry, Soren,” Lex said quietly, his voice filled with regret. “I should have called. Or texted. Honestly, doing either of those things were the last thing on my mind. I usually do text you because they don't let me drive the ambulance. I didn’t mean to make you worry, especially not like that.”

Soren’s eyes finally met Lex’s, and Lex could see the worry there, mingling with the anger. “You can’t just disappear on me like that, Lex. Not after everything we’ve been through. I need to know that you’re okay, that you’re safe. When you don’t call, my mind goes to the worst places.”

Lex swallowed hard, the guilt gnawing at him. He hated that he had caused Soren to doubt him, to fear that he might have slipped back into old habits. Lex also worried that someday he might slip up and go back, but he loved his job now and knew that if he did that, alcohol or otherwise, he'd lose it. And unlike before, this was a job Lex didn't want to lose.

“I know,” he whispered, taking another step forward, this time reaching out to place a hand on Soren’s arm. “I promise, it wasn’t like that. I’ve been clean, you know that. I would never do that to you, to us. Not again.”

Soren’s expression softened slightly, but the tension didn’t fully leave his body. “I want to believe that, Lex. I do. But you need to meet me halfway. You need to tell me when things like this happen so I’m not left here, wondering if… if you’re going to walk through that door or not.”

Lex nodded, his thumb rubbing small circles on Soren’s arm, trying to offer some comfort. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I don’t want you to ever feel like that again. I’m sorry, Soren. I really am.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of the day and the conversation hanging between them. Then, Soren let out a long breath, his posture relaxing just a bit as he uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to Lex, letting their foreheads rest against each other.

“I just need you to be honest with me,” Soren murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when things get crazy, just let me know you’re okay.”

“I will,” Lex promised, closing his eyes and savoring the closeness, the reassurance of Soren’s presence. “I will.”

Soren nodded slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he leaned into Lex’s touch. “Good. Now, let’s get you out of those work clothes and into something comfortable. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Lex managed a small, tired smile. “You’re not wrong.”

As they moved together towards the bedroom, Lex felt a flicker of relief. The conversation had been hard, but necessary, and he knew that they were stronger for it. And as he changed into something more comfortable, Soren by his side, he was reminded that no matter how tough things got, they had each other to lean on.

The hours passed in a heavy, dreamless sleep, the kind that comes only after sheer exhaustion has wrung every ounce of energy from the body. Lex had fallen asleep almost immediately after his head hit the pillow, Soren’s steady breathing beside him a comforting reminder that he wasn’t alone. But as the night wore on, the deep sleep that had initially claimed him began to fragment, broken by the creeping discomfort that slowly gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

Lex stirred, his body feeling unusually warm, a heat that seemed to radiate from his very core. His head throbbed dully, the remnants of a headache that had never fully left him, and as he shifted under the covers, a wave of dizziness rolled over him, making the room spin in the darkness. He swallowed, his throat dry, and noticed the unsettling heaviness in his stomach, a nausea that was steadily building, threatening to push him over the edge.

For a moment, he tried to ignore it, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself back to sleep. But the discomfort only grew, the heat pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, the dizziness making it hard to find a position that didn’t make his head swim. Lex groaned softly, trying to adjust the covers, hoping that loosening them would cool him down, but the movement only made the nausea surge, a sickening lurch that sent his stomach twisting.

He felt the bed shift slightly, and in the quiet of the room, Soren’s voice came, soft and laced with concern. “Lex? You okay?”

Lex froze, his breath catching as he realized he must have woken Soren with his restless movements. He hadn’t meant to, but the heat and dizziness were overwhelming, and he couldn’t quite mask the discomfort in his voice as he responded. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, though it was far from convincing.

Soren was already sitting up, the soft rustle of sheets filling the silence as he leaned closer to Lex. “You don’t sound fine. What’s wrong?”

Lex hesitated, his exhaustion making it hard to keep up the usual pretense. The truth was, he felt awful—hot, nauseous, and dizzy, with a headache that was starting to pulse more insistently behind his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way after being overworked, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. He ran a hand over his face.

“I just… I don’t feel well,” Lex finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out before he could think of a better response.

Soren’s concern deepened, and Lex could feel the shift in his boyfriend’s demeanor, a tenseness that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“What do you mean, ‘not well’? Are you dizzy? Do you have a headache? Nausea?” Soren’s questions came quickly, each one probing for a clearer picture of what was going on, but Lex could hear the underlying worry in his tone, the fear that something more was at play.

Lex sighed, his hand coming up to rub at his temple, the dull ache there flaring under his touch. “All of it,” he confessed, his voice thick with exhaustion. “I’m dizzy, and my head’s killing me, and I feel like I’m gonna be sick. How... wait, what day is it? Or, was it?”

There was a moment of silence, and Lex didn’t have to look to know that Soren was processing what he’d just said, likely running through all the possible reasons for Lex to be feeling this way. But Lex’s heart sank when he felt Soren’s hand tighten slightly on his arm, his next words tinged with suspicion.

“It's Thursday," Soren said, his voice holding a tone that made Lex anxious. He feared he knew where this was going. "Lex… you didn’t drink tonight, did you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded, and Lex felt a cold stab of dread in his chest. He knew where Soren’s mind had gone, knew that the symptoms he was describing could easily be mistaken for the aftermath of a night of drinking. But he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol—he hadn’t in a long time, not since he’d fought his way out of that dark place. Not since he barely saved any fragments of their relationship three years ago. Yet, here was Soren, his concern now tinged with doubt, and it hurt more than Lex wanted to admit.

“Soren, I didn’t—” Lex started, his voice strained, but he couldn’t get the words out before his stomach twisted violently, the nausea that had been simmering finally boiling over. He felt his mouth water, his body giving him no choice but to move, and he scrambled out of bed, the room spinning around him as he staggered towards the bathroom.

The world tilted as he stumbled down the hallway, his vision blurring at the edges as the dizziness hit him full force. Each step felt like wading through thick, unsteady water, his legs shaky beneath him. His skin was clammy, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead as the nausea surged, threatening to overwhelm him completely.

Lex barely made it to the bathroom before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet, the motion too much for his already overwhelmed senses. He gagged, his body convulsing as he tried to hold back, but it was no use. His stomach heaved, and he vomited, the force of it sending pain shooting through his head and leaving him trembling and breathless.

The retching seemed to go on forever, each wave of nausea more intense than the last, his body rebelling against the exhaustion and stress he’d been pushing through. By the time the worst of it passed, Lex was left slumped against the cold porcelain, his body spent and shaking, his head still pounding with every beat of his heart.

He heard the soft padding of feet behind him and felt Soren’s presence as he knelt beside him, the suspicion in his earlier question replaced with concern. Soren’s hand was gentle as it came to rest on the back of Lex’s neck, fingers brushing through the loose strands of his hair, holding it back and away from his face.

“Lex…” Soren’s voice was quiet, filled with worry and regret, and Lex could feel the tension between them shifting again, the doubt melting away as Soren took in the state Lex was in.

“I didn’t drink,” Lex whispered hoarsely, his voice rough from the effort of being sick. “I swear, Soren… I didn’t. I swear I'm not hungover or drunk, I'm just... sick?”

He retched again, his body convulsing with the effort, each wave of sickness leaving him more drained and disoriented. The pounding in his head was relentless, a brutal rhythm that matched the churning of his stomach. He clutched the edge of the toilet, knuckles white, as he struggled to catch his breath between bouts of vomiting.

Soren was there in an instant, kneeling beside him, his hand moving to Lex’s hair, pulling the loose braid away from his face with practiced ease. “Easy, Lex,” Soren murmured, his voice a quiet comfort in the chaos. “I’ve got you.”

As Soren held Lex’s hair back, his fingers brushed against the nape of Lex’s neck, and he stilled, noticing the heat radiating from his boyfriend’s skin. Soren’s brow furrowed in concern, and he pressed the back of his hand gently to Lex’s forehead, feeling the fever that had clearly set in. The warmth wasn’t just from the exertion of being sick—Lex was running a fever, and it was high.

Lex slumped against the toilet, panting for breath, his skin slick with sweat. The fever had sapped what little strength he had left, leaving him dazed and disoriented. Soren could see it in the way Lex’s eyes struggled to focus, the way his head lolled slightly as if he couldn’t quite keep it up.

“Lex,” Soren said gently, still holding his hair back, “you’re burning up. How long have you been feeling like this?”

Lex blinked slowly, his thoughts sluggish and muddled, as if they were trying to swim through a thick fog. “I… I don’t know,” he mumbled, his voice faint and shaky.

Soren’s concern deepened at Lex’s confusion. “Do you remember how many hours you worked?”

Lex frowned, his brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to piece together the last few days. “I… I lost track,” he admitted, sounding more bewildered than anything else. “I just kept going… Didn’t want to leave anyone hanging.”

Soren’s heart ached at Lex’s words, the exhaustion and confusion in his voice making it clear that this wasn’t just a typical case of overwork. Lex was genuinely sick, and it was more than just the stress of his job catching up to him. The fever, the dizziness, the fact that Lex couldn’t even remember how long he’d been working—it all pointed to something more serious.

Soren gently released Lex’s hair, letting it fall back as he placed a cool hand on Lex’s flushed cheek. "You really have to stop doing this to yourself."

Lex’s eyes flickered with a mix of relief and confusion, his body trembling from the fever and the effort of being sick. “I’m sorry, Soren… I didn’t mean to…”

“Shh,” Soren soothed, his thumb brushing gently across Lex’s cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I do, actually. And I'm sorry."

Lex shook his head, "No, I know. You have every right to-"

"But I didn't," Soren said, pushing some hair behind Lex's ear again after the strand fell forward. "Let’s just get you back to bed, okay?”

Lex nodded weakly, too worn out to protest, and Soren helped him to his feet, guiding him back towards their bedroom. Each step was slow, deliberate, Soren’s arm wrapped securely around Lex’s waist to keep him steady. Lex leaned heavily on him, his body drained of energy, his mind still struggling to make sense of everything.

When they reached the bed, Soren helped Lex lie down, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make him as comfortable as possible. Lex’s skin was still feverishly warm, and his eyes had a glazed, unfocused look that worried Soren even more. But despite it all, Soren could see the trust in Lex’s eyes, the way he relaxed just a fraction now that he knew Soren believed him.

“Just rest, Lex,” Soren murmured, sitting beside him. Lex felt the way Soren’s hands started gently detangling the knots that formed in his hair, something Soren always did to keep his hands busy when this happened. It was calming. “I’m right here.”

Lex’s eyelids fluttered, and he nodded faintly, the tension in his body easing slightly as he allowed himself to relax into the bed. He was exhausted, his body and mind worn thin, but with Soren by his side, he knew he could finally let go, let the sleep take him, knowing he wasn’t alone in this.

As Lex drifted off, Soren remained by his side, watching over him with a mix of worry and determination. He’d make sure Lex got through this, no matter what. And as the night wore on, Soren’s steady presence became the anchor that kept Lex grounded, the one constant in the storm of sickness that had overtaken him.

[bluedilute]

I got bored so I decided to share some of my headcanons for Venture. I can't stop thinking about them so I thought this would help

I'll also probably add more as I think of them, so this list might change a little over time

Also no warnings, completely sfw

¤ Their background says they constantly come back from assignments covered in dirt and bruises, which makes me think they probably forget to drink water or eat food often

¤ They're either autistic or have ADHD or both. There's no way this person is neurotypical

¤ I read someone saying that they think Venture is kinda closed-off, and I honestly find that hard to believe. They have an interaction where they told a literal stranger (Lúcio) that they've always wanted to be eaten alive by scarabs. That's not a closed-off or normal thing to say

¤ They're definitely an oversharer. They obviously have the foresight that there's some things they shouldn't tell certain people (I.E. telling an enemy/rival key information) but if it's an everyday acquaintance they'll talk about anything

¤ Eats rocks

¤ That was a joke but seriously they'd definitely fw those chocolate rocks and might have a stash of them somewhere for snacking. I used to eat those all the time but I had them so much I eventually got sick of them. Haven't had one in a few years

¤ I feel like they were one of those kids who couldn't wait to find out what their Christmas presents are so their older family members had to keep an eye on them so they didn't snoop around the tree

¤ Related, they don't seem religious at all, but I think they and their family would still celebrate Christmas anyways, as a family holiday

¤ Also related, their family is probably pretty huge. I like to think their parents are both from Mexico and they just moved to Canada where they had Venture, and all of their family is in Mexico. Probably Dorado

¤ Their Abuelita they mention in Dorado is probably some kind of Historian or even also an archeologist, and loves hearing her grandbaby talk about their passion

¤ They definitely like old people. They always have a bunch of stories from when they were younger, and Venture would love hearing about them

¤ They'd like old music. 1970s-1990s for the most part, since it would technically be old music by then (it is 2077 in the ow universe). Their favorite band from back then is probably Queen

¤ Would love learning about unsolved mysteries. They'd totally watch those essay videos about weird unsolved crimes, and would honestly probably crack a case or two

¤ Their background says they had an affinity for finding lost things since they were a child, so I feel like they'd pick up on things that most people don't, which most of the time happens to relate to things from the past

¤ They would cuddle their friends. Based on their dialogue, they're a very open and kind person, so I think they'd view cuddling as more of an act of trust rather than something you do with a romantic partner

¤ I think they drink alcohol, but never that much. Even on special fancy occasions or whatever, I don't think they'd have too much to drink. They'd probably stick with mocktails mostly

¤ They have a ton of tattoos from cultures all over the world, mostly with some kind of symbolism of the past

¤ Being a historical archeologist, I think they also dabble in natural history. They'd think the titanoboa skeleton is super cool

¤ Also queer history, they'd probably be knowledgeable about that. Destroys homophobes and transphobes with historical facts and logic

-- --

Thank you for taking some time to read my silly little headcanons! I hope ya liked them

[nininikki]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 | eren jaeger x black

II. what did i tell you?

✧ summary! — following a blundered primary and a heated argument with his wife, eren knows exactly who to call.

✧ warnings! — mentions of alcohol consumption, suggestive sexual language, adultery (eren is an aspiring cheater again), age gap—reader is 29 and eren is 40

✧ author’s note! — part 2 is here! so happy that you all are loving this series & i thank you for all the support!! 🤎🪽 lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!

✧ word count! — 2.5k

AUGUST 12, THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION 

“i can’t even…” mikasa sputtered, running a shaky hand through the sable—and once perfectly coiffed—hair atop her head. “i can’t believe you, eren.” she let the sleek mop of her fur coat droop down her arms, seemingly indifferent as to whether or not it landed on the nearby coat rack. as he watched it collide with the tile floor of their foyer, eren recalled the eight thousand dollar price with a scoff.

“save it, mika.” eren huffed, trying to drown out the sounds of her heels clicking against the floor as she tailed him into the living room.

“oh, trust me, i have. i saved it on the bus. i saved it on the plane. i even saved it on the ride home when it was just the two of us.”

“i meant save it for someone who wants to hear it, ‘cause i sure as hell don’t, mikasa.” he blew the words out as an exasperated sigh.

mikasa barked, the tone of her voice akin to a creaky window. “i’m gonna speak now, and you will hear every word!” 

eren could tell just by the way the words scratched against her throat that she was about to lay it on thick. and mikasa had a very poor habit of not knowing when to fucking stop. if he wanted to listen to someone berate him for every mistake he’d ever made, he’d pick up the phone and call his father.

“honestly, eren, do you even want this election?”

“of course i do. do you not see how hard i’ve been working?”

“oh, is that what that was? were you working hard at that primary, because all you managed to do was piss me off.”

“don’t start with me right now. i’m not in the damn mood for this.”

“and you think i am? you think i’m in the mood to be having this conversation?” mikasa laughed, but it felt more like a sarcastically delighted scoff. her eyes went glossy with something familiarly maniacal, and eren could more than tell what she was getting ready to do. arranging a beautiful artillery of words at the tip of her tongue for the sole purpose of destroying him in that very moment. “i mean, do you not realize how lucky you are? you’re smart, you’re rich, you’re handsome, you come from one of the most powerful families in the country. you could have the office right now if you wanted. but you don’t want it.

“i had dreams, y’know. i could’ve been a partner at my firm, but i gave it up. and for what? so you could screw around behind that podium?” mikasa kicked out of her shoes before hooking the heels under her fingers.

eren released the bridge of his nose from the pressing grip of his fingers. “i’ll be at the guest house tonight.”

mikasa only sighed. they seldom got in fights that led to them sleeping separately, but in those rare instances, it was the best (and sometimes the only) option. “right. well, get some rest. we’re meeting with levi tomorrow.”

he took a chance glance into his wife’s eyes—an oasis of grey, brimming with thoughts and emotions of which she had barred his access. save for the frustration evident on all the other parts of her face.

it was so eerily similar to that of his mother. he could count on both hands the number of times she blinked that same world-weary gaze in his father’s direction. how long had she been sleeping in the guest bedroom before she’d considered a divorce?

“yeah. you too.”

14 MAY, SIX MONTHS AFTER THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

“don’t even try to deny it.” mikasa said. a sick, wifely part of her burned with satisfaction at the sight of your infuriatingly beautiful face—cracked into a myriad of distressing pieces, like a plate she’d just struck with a hammer. “and before you ask, no. i don’t have proof.” if she were being a hundred percent honest with herself, it hadn’t even crossed her mind to gather any proof. what had her marriage done to her? she was a lawyer, and top of her class, godamnit! if eren’s classless affair reduced her to a point of throwing around baseless accusations, then she was just as bad as him. which meant that she needn’t waste any more time on this than absolutely necessary. “but i don’t need any, either. i mean, look at you two.”

you scoffed, seeming to forget that your glass was empty and being met with a jarring (and actually rather rude) slurping noise. thankfully, the waiter was there to swipe the glass from your hand before any more damage to her ears could be done. although, mikasa was almost sick with pleasure as she watched your futile attempt at trying not to crumble. “look at—look at what, exactly?”

“i don’t know what it was, but part of me could just tell he wanted you. maybe it was me being his wife and such, but i just knew. that first night i introduced you two, he had this—this hard-on in his eyes whenever he looked at you.” she thought back to that very night. where you’d seemingly been oblivious to her husband ogling you like you were a piece of meat. “but i could deal with that. i could screw him a little more often. we were supposed to be trying anyway. but then,” at the mention of them trying, mikasa caught you shifting uncomfortably in your seat, and thought to herself, good. she hoped your mind would run itself wild imagining all the trying they did.

“but then?”

mikasa had to brace herself. because eren could be as horny for as many twenty year olds as he wanted. he could have as many stupid, meaningless affairs as he wanted. him being unhappy in their marriage, she could handle that. her husband being careless enough to risk his presidency over some college freshman, she could handle that. none of it would’ve been worse than what he actually did. “i think he actually started to like you.”

AUGUST 12, THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

you put your house phone out of its ringing misery with a clipped, “hello,” for you had barely graced past your front door and kicked off your heels when it began it’s treacherous trill.

“bad time?” the voice on the other end answered, a voice you immediately (and with some chagrin) recognized to be governor eren jaeger. it’s smooth and relaxed, like he’s just ran a glass of whiskey down his throat. your drunken timbre feels clumsy in comparison.

“oh.” you realize aloud, situating yourself at the foot of your bed. “hi, mr. governor.”

“unh-unh. what did i tell you?”

almost giddily, you plunged your head backwards into your plush, messy comforter, your house phone still clutched in your fingers. “eren.” a low hum rumbled through the receiver, as palpable as though your ear was pressed against his chest. this was an unbelievably bad time for you. your body was still mangled with remnants of fun. you were drunk, sprinkled in party glitter, and you had sporadically made out with jean kirschtein, so you were a little horny too.

“that’s better.” this was so incredibly bad for you. eren was so incredibly bad for you. he was even more enticing over the phone, if not more so. you were so stupid, and you were so screwed if you stayed on the phone with him any longer.

but, really, you couldn’t help yourself. “well, eren, how’d you get my number?” 

“uh, mikasa, actually. she wrote it in my planner.”

“that sounds like her. are you forgetful like that?” in the background, you heard the almost hypnotizing sounds of ice clink-ing against a glass. somehow, you just knew it was scotch he was drinking, and you couldn’t fight the various mental images that came with that knowing. 

eren only chuckled, and you could practically feel the scotch roll down his throat. “oh, she doesn’t do it for me. it’s in case her planner gets caught in a fire or something.”

at that, a clumsy laugh punched from your throat. “can’t tell if you’re funny or if i’m just drunk.”

“which do you think it is?” your dress suddenly began to feel like a thousand pounds of hot fur on your body rather than the skimpy piece of sequins that it was. eren did that to you. and when you left an ecstatic giggle in the form of your answer, he only further egged you on in your flustered state. “what, you think i’m funny? c’mon tell me.”

if he were in front of you at that moment, you would’ve slipped from your dress without a second’s hesitation. how crazy would it be for you to take your dress off while you were on the phone with him? it’s not like he’d see it or anything. but you so desperately wanted him to, and the fact that he wouldn’t made you so fucking crazy. “i think that you’re lots of things, eren.”

“mhm, like what?”

“can’t say. i’m too drunk.” you let your eyes press shut for a bit, trying almost futilely to think of anything that didn’t involve flashing the governor of california. “and, hey, why’d you call me, anyway? not that i mind or anything, but don’t you have, like, an election to win?”

eren breathed a sigh—docile, yet so strangely and dangerously persuasive. “yeah, but…talking to you is a lot more fun.”

“noooo, come on. tell me the real reason.”

“that is the real reason. i swear on it. we actually were supposed to call you at some point and congratulate you on the premiere. just figured i should get around to it now.”

“do you call all your famous actress friends at—” you cut your eyes over to the alarm clock on your bedside table. “—almost one in the morning? i mean, you’re lucky i was coming home from a party, and not dead asleep or something.”

“party, huh?”

“yeah.” you actually couldn’t help the way your thighs pressed together. “still got my dress on and everything.”

“really?” the muffled sound of him shuffling in his seat made you pinch your lip between your teeth.

you giggled, a reaction you’d probably have to start getting used to for as long as you were around him. “yeah.”

“bet you look real pretty.” he thinks i’m pretty. you could’ve moaned at the thought. 

suddenly, your voice was a higher, breathier octave. like you were whispering the words in his ears. “are you thinking about what i look like in my dress?”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

you wanted to take it further. you wanted to ask him what he was wearing. you wanted to ask him if you were making him hard, although a part of you knew you were. you wanted to slide your fingers under your panties and let him hear just how bad he was for you.

just as desire began to pool in your belly, so did a sharp pang of guilt. married man, married man, married man. but he had thrown a few compliments your way and you managed to forget all about that.

“eren,” how wrong would it be for you to slide your dress up your legs until it bunched at your waist? “you know we...” if you slipped the straps off your shoulders and let the rest fall from there, what then? “we c—”

“i know, i know.” he cooed, and his voice crawled out of the receiver and laced you with something. you needed him to whisper those words over your ears, or between your lips, or against whatever body part of yours he’d just finished kissing. you needed it so bad you could’ve cried. “i’m sorry.”

you sat upright, feeling immediately more sober than you had all night. “don’t be.”

“let me. let me be sorry, because i am.” the way he spoke to you was so toothachingly sweet, you think you would walk yourself off a cliff if he was talking you through it. “‘m sorry.”

your eyes close, and you were not sure if they were fluttering shut from tiredness or pressing closed from angst. the only thing you were sure of was that this conversation couldn’t possibly continue any longer. “it’s alright. i think i should be getting to bed anyway. i don’t usually stay up this late talking to future presidents.”

eren chuckled. “maybe you should do it more often.”

“maybe i should.”

AUGUST 12, THREE MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

“what the fuck,” was how you answered the phone the following morning. you had fallen asleep with it still tucked against your ear and clutched between your fingers, so you’d felt its ringing in all of its chirruping treachery. 

“bad time again?” eren responded, his voice tiptoeing over a laugh. 

“extremely.” you sat up in bed and took a chance glance at your bedside clock. the only person who could get a pre-eleven o’clock answer from you on one of your off days was hange. and even they knew that the resulting response was usually so grouchy that they’d be better off not bothering. so it all but bewildered you as to why you’d even let eren stay on the phone long enough to come to this realization. “it’s barely ten.”

“so i gather you’re not a morning person?” eren seemed to be the exact opposite. his voice was as brilliantly ecstatic at ten in the morning as yours would normally be after a shot of tequila. it made you want to swing your curtains open and stand tall in the sun, even with the headache spearing through your skull.

despite the small onslaught of revelations, you answered, “if it wasn’t obvious enough.”

“sooo, i’m assuming this is a really bad time to invite you to dinner with mikasa and i.”

“dinner?”

you’re only briefly surprised at his audacity to ask you to dinner with his wife after the night you two had. but then again, you doubt he would’ve even called you if she hadn’t planted your number in his planner. the realization was an emotional whiplash that wasn’t helped by your hungover state. 

“uh, yeah. i meant to ask last night, but i guess i didn’t really get around to it.”

i wonder why, you’d wanted to say, but suppressed the urge with a cough. “oh, well, i—”

“and don’t feel pressured to say yes. i know my wife can be a force.”

his wife. the woman who probably awoke him this morning with a smattering of kisses. the woman who felt his arms wrap around her in the comfort of their bed not two minutes after he’d gotten off the phone with you. the same woman whose eyes were filled with nothing but guilt-inducing kindness when she invited you over for golf that night.

the answer should be a flat no. sorry, eren. i don’t think i can do dinner with you and your wife. partly because i’m very obviously and very, very inappropriately sexually attracted to you. and partly because i think i’m a little jealous of your wife. i haven’t quite unpacked that part yet, but i’m sure here—on the phone with you—is probably the worst place to do it. yeah, uh, bye. so, when you fix your stupid lips to say, “eren, the last thing you could ever do is pressure me. of course i’ll go.” you can only assume it’s for those same reasons.

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