#and felt the need to clarify that this is what a professional would do

[swe3theart-succubus]

community service- rafe cameron smau

PT. 11

you’d been awake since before sunrise.

the tents were up, the tables were half-decorated, and you had exactly four paper cuts, two red bulls, and one joint tucked into your purse that would be your salvation later.

but the worst part?

not the heat. not the missing extension cords. not even the delivery truck that backed into the rec center sign and kept driving.

no.

it was your friends.

trailing behind you like gossip-starved ducklings as you tried to run an actual event.

“—just one night,” kiara was saying, hot on your heels as you hauled a crate of canned sodas toward the check-in tent. “that’s all I’m asking. one night of details. were there abs involved?”

“jesus, kie—” you muttered, yanking the folding table into place. “some of us are trying to raise money for at-risk youth, not recap porn.”

“you can do both,” she insisted, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “multitask.”

"so can you." you responded mock-sweetly, passing her a stack of chairs to unfold and place.

she groaned and whinged, but you spun her by the shoulders and sent her off like a troublesome toddler.

and as soon as she's gone, another takes her place.

this time it's john b who saunters over with jj, both of them had spent the entire day so far making every task a two-man job.

clearly, this was no different.

you watch with narrowed eyes as they approach, john b elbowing jj slightly and both of them snickering.

you choose peace. you choose professionalism. you choose-

"so, was it big?"

your hand thudded against john b’s chest with impressive force.

“ow!” he yelped, rubbing his chest with the most smug, shit-eating grin. “rude!”

“this is why i don't tell you shit,” you hissed at jj who'd taken it upon himself to update the group chat when you gave him the literal bare minimum rundown of what had happened last night.

you exhaled slowly through your nose before gesturing toward the unopened cases of water bottles beside them. “contribute or get out of the way.”

jj didn’t even blink. “you’re avoiding the question.”

“i’m avoiding a murder charge.”

“so that’s a yes.”

“oh my god.”

“don’t worry,” john b added, casually grabbing a water bottle like he wasn't tap dancing on your nerves. “we’ll keep it PG when rafe gets here.”

"jesus christ," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "don't remind me that you idiots are all gonna be within 300 feet of each other."

jj leaned in, grinning like a devil on vacation. “seriously, we’ll behave.”

you gave him a look, and he felt the need to clarify.

“no fistfights before eight.”

you dropped your head into your hands.

“swear,” john b chimed, hand over his heart like he was taking an oath. “unless he swings first. then all bets are off.”

"no," pope cut in, ipad in hand, head of accounting mode turned all the way on. "no fights. we have funders coming tonight. like, real ones. with checks.”

jj shrugged. “he’s the only one with a history of felonies.”

“you have two misdemeanors,” pope deadpanned without looking up.

“not the same,” jj replied breezily.

“you spray-painted ‘eat the rich’ on the mayor’s car.”

“exactly. political activism. not a crime—”

“a crime,” pope interrupted, finally looking up. “an actual, documented, you had to pay a fine crime.”

you cleared your throat loudly before the bickering escalated. again.

“focus,” you said, waving them forward. “we’ve got tents to finish, a volunteer station to set up, and someone needs to run and pick up the silent auction baskets from the bakery.”

“on it,” pope said, already walking.

jj stayed put. “i’m not allowed in that bakery anymore.”

“i wonder why.”

“don’t be snide.”

and god was on jj's side, apparently—because that’s when you heard it.

the low purr of a very expensive engine.

you turned just in time to see rafe’s truck pulling in like it owned the damn place. windows down. music low. sunglasses on. one arm slung over the wheel. so casual, like he hadn’t spent the night before making you gasp into his mouth.

he parked like it was a performance. tires crunching. door swinging open slow. he stepped out in a perfectly wrinkled white tee and jeans, hair pushed back, looking like a walking bad decision.

jj grinned.

john b whistled low. “and the man of the hour arrives.”

you didn’t look. not yet. you took a deep breath and steadied your clipboard like it was a weapon.

“nobody say anything weird,” you warned.

jj pursed his lips, raised an eyebrow. “define weird.”

“i swear to god—”

“relax,” he drawled, hands up. “i’m just gonna say hi.”

rafe smirked the second he saw you.

“got your text,” he said, nodding toward the box beside your feet. “brought the spare extension cords and your stress coffee.”

you hated the way your heart fluttered at the small smile on his face. you hated the way jj leaned over and whispered “he’s whipped."

but you especially hated the way rafe’s eyes flicked to your mouth and lingered.

“thanks,” you said stiffly, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“you’re welcome,” he replied easily. then added, just loud enough for the group to hear: “you’re really bossy when you’re in charge. it’s kinda hot.”

john b whooped. jj howled.

you didn’t say anything. just handed rafe the clipboard.

“congrats,” you said. “you’re in charge of parking.”

he blinked. “i don’t know how to do that.”

“guess you better learn,” you muttered, already walking away.

jj watched you go. “...you’re so mean to your little boyfriend.”

“not my boyfriend!” you called back, because you had to.

because if you didn’t—

you’d start smiling.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻

you got into director mode like it was a second skin.

smile just professional enough to hide the exhaustion under your concealer. you and pope moved like a two-person pit crew—charming the early donors with practiced ease.

"we’re so glad you could make it," you said sweetly, accepting another check with both hands like it was sacred. “your donation will go directly toward our after-school programs.”

“yes,” pope added, tone reverent. “you’re literally saving lives.”

“like, actually,” you nodded, solemn.

the woman beamed like she’d just won a humanitarian award. her check had hearts in the memo line.

somewhere behind you, jj and john b were covered in glitter. they'd begged to be put in charge of the glitter tattoo tent. naturally, of course.

“hold still,” john b was muttering to a five-year-old who’d requested a velociraptor with a crown. he had four colors of glitter on his face and a glue stick in his mouth.

in between 'clients', they took hits off jj's stupid fucking mango-flavored pen. you'd tried confiscating it, but they just tossed it back and forth over your head until you gave up and called pope for backup.

pope had also taken a hit.

kiara had not given up.

every time you passed by the volunteer tent, she popped up with a new question.

“okay but like—on a scale from 1-10?”

“do you think he’s gonna ask you out? like real-out?”

“how many inches—”

you pointed a check at her. “i will actually hurt you.”

she grinned and handed out another juice box.

and rafe?

bless his heart.

he was out by the parking entrance, directing traffic like he was being punished by god. sunglasses on, safety vest reluctantly worn, waving cars into rows with the strained patience of someone actively trying not to commit a misdemeanor.

some old man yelled at him about signage.

some kook mom tried to flirt her way into VIP parking. (which didn’t even exist, by the way.)

one dude blasted his horn for a solid thirty seconds and rafe just…stood there. blinking. reevaluating every life choice he’d ever made.

you watched from a distance.

he caught you watching.

and even from across the lot, you could see the slow lift of one brow. the curl of a smirk.

you slipped away the second pope turned to answer a question from the local paper.

technically, you were supposed to be standing beside him, nodding thoughtfully for photos and emphasizing how this fundraiser is about the kids—but god, your feet hurt. your head was pounding. and you knew pope could handle one journalist without you.

so you vanished.

you grabbed a water bottle from the cooler, cracked the cap, and headed toward the parking lot.

rafe was still out there, baking in the sun, the safety vest clashing violently with the rest of his outfit. you spotted him from behind: one hand on his hip, the other raised in a tight-lipped wave as he guided an Escalade into place with all the enthusiasm of a DMV employee on his last nerve.

“hydration,” you announced, holding out the bottle like a peace offering.

he turned, took the bottle with a faint, wry smile and downed half of it in one go.

“you’re a goddamn hero,” he muttered, voice scratchy. “i almost punched a minivan.”

“i saw,” you said, leaning against the supply table. “you exercised impressive restraint.”

“i was one honk away from a felony.”

“growth.”

he huffed a laugh.

you watched as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then looked over at you.

“thought you were gonna leave me out here to die.”

“i considered it,” you said sweetly. “but then i remembered how cute you looked in a vest.”

you watched his throat move as he drank again, adams apple bobbing, jaw tense. you had to physically remind yourself not to stare.

too long.

too hard.

too obvious.

he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and tilted his head. “you ditch pope?”

“i’m a terrible person,” you confirmed. “i’ll repent later.”

“mm.” he leaned one shoulder against the pole marking the entrance lane. “you’re good at this.”

“at being terrible?”

“at making this shit look easy.”

you shrugged, suddenly bashful. “it’s not. but—thanks.”

he was quiet for a second. like he was debating saying something. everything. then he looked at you again—really looked at you—and said, “you know you’re kind of incredible, right?”

you rolled your eyes. “don’t flirt with me in a safety vest. it’s undignified.”

he grinned, sharp and slow. “if this is me not being dignified, you should see how bad it gets when i try.”

the breeze kicked up dust. somewhere, a glitter cannon went off. you didn’t look.

“you good?” you asked, quieter now. “some guy honked for like…a solid minute.”

“yeah.” he shrugged. “had a full existential crisis. i’m better now.”

you cracked a smile. “must be the vest.”

he leaned in a little, voice low. “or the company.”

you glanced around. no one was close.

so you stepped closer, stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

he didn’t hesitate.

his arms slid around your waist instantly, like they’d just been waiting. like they knew where they belonged.

you exhaled against his shoulder. let yourself breathe. let yourself melt into him, just for a second. just long enough to stop thinking.

he held you tighter.

not crushing, not caging. just close. solid. like he was anchoring you to the earth while everything else spun out.

“you can stay for a sec,” he murmured. “i won’t tell pope.”

you smiled into his shirt. “you better not.”

his hand skimmed your back, slow and steady. “you smell like glue sticks and orange slices.”

“glamorous, i know.”

“irresistible.”

you pulled back just enough to see his face—and yeah, that grin was still there. cocky. warm. annoying. yours.

you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward and pressing your lips to his softly.

and he didn’t rush it.

he kissed you back slow, like he was scared to break it. like he knew this wasn’t the moment for hunger or heat or anything loud. just this. just you. just now.

your fingers curled lightly into the collar of his t-shirt. his thumb dragged along the curve of your hip.

it was soft. almost shy.

but still, something about it left you dizzy.

when you finally pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded. his lips parted like he had something to say, but couldn’t remember how to say it.

and then pope's voice cut straight through the moment.

“hey! hey! she abandoned me!”

you groaned.

“duty calls,” you said with a sigh.

you glanced at his vest, smirk tugging at your mouth. “jeez, this is hideous.”

he scoffed. “you literally just kissed me.”

“pity kiss,” you said over your shoulder, already walking. “for the guy stuck directing traffic.”

“you wound me.”

“you’ll live.”

you didn’t look back.

but you could feel the grin on his face like sunshine on your spine.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻

traffic had finally thinned out.

the lot was mostly full, and for the first time all day, rafe wasn’t directing an endless stream of impatient SUVs. he tossed the hideous safety vest into the supply bin like it was poisonous and rolled his shoulders with a relieved sigh.

finally.

he scanned the field—vendors packing up, the bounce house half-deflated, jj and john b asleep under the glitter booth table like war veterans. kie had taken over the booth, and he could hear her debating a kid on why turtles were the coolest. the sun had softened, casting everything in gold.

and there you were.

still working. still glowing.

you were by the silent auction table now, clipboard in hand, tapping names into the spreadsheet while smiling for a donor couple. nodding politely, holding small talk like it didn’t exhaust you. your braid was falling loose, your lipstick mostly worn off, and you looked so unfairly pretty he forgot how tired he was.

rafe headed toward you without thinking.

you looked up as he approached.

“you live,” you teased.

“barely.”

“you smell like exhaust fumes.”

“yeah, well, you kissed me anyway.”

you bit back a smile. “that was a low point.”

he stepped beside you at the table, close enough to bump shoulders. “so this is the fancy part?”

“mm. silent auction. for all the rich people who pretend it’s not about winning.”

he looked down at the list, eyes scanning the bid sheets. “someone paid two hundred bucks for a gift card to the fish shack?”

“for the kids,” you said sweetly.

“...and bragging rights?”

“obviously.”

“disgusting.”

you nudged him with your hip. “do not sabotage my auction.”

he raised both hands. “i’m being supportive.”

you arched a brow.

“in fact,” he added, leaning over to scribble something down, “i just placed a bid.”

you leaned in to see—and snorted.

“‘one hour of free tutoring with the director’? that’s literally me.”

he shrugged. “i heard she’s hot.”

you rolled your eyes and turned back to the clipboard, fighting the grin that tugged at your mouth.

he lingered, hands in his pockets, watching as you refocused. watched how easily you slipped back into work mode. the way your brows pinched slightly, the way your lips pressed together as you calculated totals.

he didn’t interrupt.

he just stood beside you, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and when you glanced over again, he was already looking.

“what?” you asked, suspicious.

he shrugged.

“stop staring.”

“can’t.”

you rolled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t bother hiding your smile.

and for a moment—just a moment—it was quiet. warm. like the chaos had paused just for you.

“yo,” pope called, jogging up with his tablet under one arm and a soda in the other. “vendors are packing up. cleanup’s already started. i told the crew they could leave once the trash bags are full.”

you nodded, rubbing the back of your neck. “amazing. thank you.”

he held up the soda. “also, i’m ninety percent sure this is flat, but i got it for you anyway. you looked like you were two seconds from faceplanting.”

you took it gratefully. “i am two seconds from faceplanting.”

a low, amused sound rumbled from rafe's throat. “that’s my cue to carry you to a chair.”

and before you could argue, he bent down and swept you off your feet like it was nothing.

“rafe!” you squealed, flailing just enough to spill soda on his shirt. “put me down!”

“nope,” he said cheerfully, already following after pope. “you’ve suffered enough. allow yourself to be babied.”

“this is embarrassing,” you hissed.

he grinned, unfazed. “you kissed me in a vest. we’ve crossed the line.”

you were still arguing when you reached the bonfire pit. a ring of folding chairs had been dragged into a loose circle, half of them occupied by glitter-smeared volunteers and exhausted pogues. there were graham crackers and chocolate bars already laid out on a table, and kie had somehow acquired skewers for marshmallows. music played from someone’s phone speaker.

the rec center field had turned golden-orange. smoky air, laughter echoing low, stars just barely beginning to show.

rafe set you down gently in one of the chairs, then sat beside you with his legs stretched out, one arm slung across the back of your seat like it had always belonged there.

“see?” he said, watching you with smug satisfaction. “you’re not working anymore. the world didn’t end.”

“give it time,” you muttered, but your smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.

he tapped your knee. “you wanna roast something or just sit here looking beautiful and threatening?”

“tempting,” you said, leaning your head against the back of the chair. “but if i stand up again, my legs might fall off.”

“damn,” he said, digging around the snack table until he found a skewer and a marshmallow. “guess i’ll do the hard labor.”

you didn’t look up until he offered it to you—perfectly golden, crisp edges, soft middle.

you grinned. “look at you, being all domestic.”

“yeah, yeah, take it before i change my mind.”

you took the marshmallow, blew on it gently, and popped it into your mouth with a pleased hum.

rafe watched you like he hadn’t just spent the entire day inhaling sun and fumes. like this—this—was his reward.

“you’re staring again,” you said, around the marshmallow.

“yep,” he said unapologetically, grabbing another to roast.

you nudged his leg with your foot under the chair. “weirdo.”

he smirked. “takes one to know one.”

a few seats down, jj and john b had returned to consciousness—jj was poking the fire dramatically with a stick while john b leaned into the glow like he was at therapy. kie had found a bag of sparklers and was now chasing after pope with two lit ones.

you glanced over at rafe as he handed you another marshmallow.

“you’re not bad at this,” you said quietly.

“what? roasting?”

“this. all of it. being here.”

he looked over at you, something softer in his eyes now. less smug, more surprised. “yeah?”

you nodded, nudging his arm gently. “you’re not just a pretty face, cameron.”

“you think i’m pretty?” he teased.

“don’t make it weird.”

he laughed. then leaned in, just a little. “you’re the one who kissed me, remember?”

you tried to smother your grin with another marshmallow.

he bumped your shoulder with his. “thanks for not making me feel like a complete idiot today.”

you turned to look at him. “you never were an idiot. just…needed a little direction.”

“and you’re the bossiest person i’ve ever met.”

“you like that.”

he didn’t deny it.

instead, he grabbed one of the sparklers from the snack table and lit it with an unnecessary flourish. then handed it to you with a small bow.

you accepted it, watching the sparks fly, golden light painting lines across both your faces.

“make a wish,” he said, too casually.

you squinted at him. “wrong thing, genius. that’s birthday candles.”

he shrugged. “just do it.”

you twirled the sparkler slowly, watching it crackle, then looked back at him.

“what would you wish for?” you asked.

he tilted his head. studied you.

and then—softly, without even blinking—he said, “this. more of this.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*

you hadn’t noticed the second wave arrive.

too busy trying to finish your marshmallow without burning your tongue. too busy letting yourself melt into the moment—this warmth, this him.

but you definitely noticed when the volume shifted.

jj was the first giveaway. he stood suddenly, waving like a man on a lifeboat. “my people have ARRIVED!”

a handful of familiar faces came spilling down the hill from the parking lot—friends of friends, volunteers who hadn’t been able to make it earlier.

all armed with beer and bottles of clear liquid.

you groaned loudly.

"john jackson maybank, tell me you did not."

he spun toward you like a kid caught red-handed. “what? i invited them! it’s called community outreach.”

“it’s called open container violations,” pope muttered, already rubbing his temples.

jj pointed at him with his beer. “and you’re called a buzzkill.”

you stood, hands on your hips, watching as more people trickled in—music louder, laughter sharper. someone had set up a speaker, and a remix of something vaguely club-adjacent was already thumping across the field.

“jj,” you said, deadly calm. “this is a rec center event. not your personal afterparty.”

“the event is over,” he argued. “this is the after party.”

you pinched the bridge of your nose. “we aren't having an afterparty.”

“well we are now,” he said brightly, raising his bottle like a toast.

“he’s gonna get us shut down,” pope grumbled.

“i’m gonna get us funding,” jj retorted. “couple of these guys have dads who play golf with people who write checks.”

“you’re bribing them with jungle juice.”

“it’s networking!”

you sighed so deeply it felt like a core workout.

music bumped louder. someone passed around sparklers again. the vibe had officially shifted—from sweet, soft chaos to something more alive. bigger. messier. fun, if you weren’t the one responsible for the property insurance.

jj dug into his pocket and fished out a slightly crumpled joint, lighting it despite your half hearted attempts to smack it out of his hand.

once lit, he started waving it around your face, like he was trying to lure an animal.

“c’mon,” he coaxed, grin lazy, voice syrupy. “just one hit. for morale.”

you swatted at the smoke like it offended you personally. “jj, i’m the director.”

“direct this into your lungs,” he said, waving it closer.

“oh my god—”

“live a little,” he said, like he wasn’t currently hotboxing the memory of your credibility. “we raised money. you suffered. you earned it.”

you turned to pope for backup.

“don’t look at me,” pope said, already retreating with his soda. “if you give in, i’m not taking the fall.”

“coward.”

“realist.”

jj was still holding it out, wiggling his brows. “peer pressure works better when you stop pretending you’re not so close to cracking.”

you opened your mouth—probably to say something mature, responsible, directorly—

and rafe plucked the joint right out of jj’s hand.

“she’s good,” he said, casually taking a hit like he’d been waiting for an excuse all day.

jj gawked. “bro. that was for her.”

“then maybe she should’ve moved faster,” rafe said, exhaling slow, cocky. smug.

you stared. “i cannot believe you just—”

“what?” he said, holding it toward you now. “you are the boss. gotta keep morale up, right?”

you stared at him. at the smirk. the raised brow. the faint glow of smoke curling from his mouth.

and maybe it was the glitter still stuck to your arms. maybe it was the stress. maybe it was the fact that yeah, you’d earned it.

you took it.

jj pumped his arm victoriously. pope sighed.

and rafe?

he just smiled, slow and quiet.

“attagirl,” he murmured.

and you didn’t even try to stop yourself from smiling back.

you let john b toss you a beer.

let jj challenge you to a shotgun.

let kie start drawing constellations on your arm with glitter glue like it was henna.

you even let rafe pull you into a sway when someone switched the speaker to something slow and vintage and probably sampled off a cassette tape.

the fire snapped behind you. laughter echoed sharp. jj had started teaching two volunteers how to do a backflip with zero qualifications and even less balance.

pope was arguing with someone about tax codes.

and for once—you weren’t worrying.

not about the funds. not about the noise. not about your clipboard.

just here. just him.

“you’re loosening up,” he said, cocking his head at you.

“shut up.”

“you gonna shotgun a second beer?”

“i won that shotgun.”

“barely.”

“jealous?”

“only of the beer.”

then he silenced your giggle by pressing his mouth to yours. and it was right when you were wondering if defiling the art room would be worth it when it happened.

when the voice rang out.

loud and obnoxious.

“damn cameron, you didn’t tell me community service looked like this!”

you barely had time to pull away from his mouth when topper walked over, clapping rafe on the shoulder.

“seriously,” he laughed, already holding a red cup and reeking of tequila. “if i knew charity came with makeout perks, i would’ve racked up a few felonies myself.”

rafe shrugged him off with a laugh before pulling him into one of those one-handed shoulder-pat bro hugs. kelce followed. then a couple of other kooks with gelled hair and pastel colored shorts.

jj was already halfway to them.

you caught the flash of his jaw tightening, the sharp pivot of his boots in the dirt.

john b didn’t even try to stop him—just sucked in a breath and followed, ready to back him up.

“yo,” jj said, pointing his beer like a dagger. “party’s over, prep school. get your salmon shorts and your slicked hair the hell outta here.”

topper smirked. “nice to see you too, maybank.”

“i’m not kidding,” jj snapped, stepping closer. “this is our thing.”

“technically,” kelce chimed in, “it’s a fundraiser. for the community. which we are part of, thanks.”

“you’re not part of shit,” jj spat.

topper smirked, like he was itching for this. “aw, c’mon. we just came to donate. you know”—he held up a very expensive bottle of tequila like a white flag—“for the kids.”

jj’s mouth opened. then closed.

his eyes flicked to the bottle.

then to john b, who shrugged.

then back to the bottle.

“…is that clase azul?” he asked suspiciously.

topper wiggled the bottle. “straight from my dad’s bar cart.”

jj held out a hand like he was making a deal with the devil. “gimme.”

topper handed it over with a smug little bow.

jj sniffed it. nodded. “alright,” he said gruffly. “you can stay.”

“you’re a sellout,” pope hissed as jj started pouring shots like he was running bottle service at a club in tulum.

jj shrugged. “hey, he stays outta our way, and he brings good shit. win-win. you want a taste or not?”

“…yes,” pope muttered, grabbing a solo cup.

you didn’t join the shots.

not yet.

you stayed by the fire, your legs curled under you in the camp chair while you let your beer go warm in your hand.

from this angle, you had a perfect view of the group—

jj holding court and pouring tequila like holy water.

john b and pope free styling to no beat.

and rafe, just barely on the edge of it all.

he was talking to one of the guys—some kook you vaguely recognized from a gala last spring. tall. vineyard vines energy. he was holding a red cup like it might bite him. but rafe looked relaxed.

his arms were crossed, shoulders loose, mouth tilted into a crooked half-smile. every so often, he nodded or tilted his head or cracked a joke that made the group cackle.

and for a second, it hit you.

this version of him—sun-tired, tequila-glazed, half in the world you came from and half in the one he’s always known—was dangerously charming.

because he was good at this.

because the line between too smooth and just sweet enough blurred fast when he looked at you the way he did earlier. when he kissed you like the only thing that mattered. when he wore that stupid vest like penance and followed orders like yours were gospel.

and maybe it wasn’t fair.

to want him like this.

to let yourself imagine more.

but god, he made it so easy.

especially when he laughed like that—shoulders shaking, head tipped back, teeth bared like he forgot how to be guarded. like he forgot there was a version of himself that had ever made you flinch.

like he belonged here.

and then he looked at you.

not glanced. looked.

eyes dragging slow from your crossed legs to your face. like he was already halfway walking toward you in his head.

you felt it in your throat. in your stomach. in the heat that rushed up your neck before you could swallow it down.

and maybe it was the beer.

or the marshmallow high. or the glitter constellation on your arm. or the fact that his mouth was still pink from kissing you.

but you wanted him close again.

so when he finally peeled away from the group, cup still in hand, sauntering toward you with the loose-limbed confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing—

you didn’t pretend you weren’t waiting.

“this seat taken?” he asked, motioning to the folding chair beside yours.

he didn’t wait for an answer. he grinned and dropped into the seat—close enough for his thigh to brush yours. close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

you could smell him now. sunscreen and sweat and woodsmoke and a hint of that cologne you pretended not to recognize.

“you’re staring,” you said, not looking at him.

“you’re pretty,” he replied, not missing a beat.

you tilted your head. “you’re drunk.”

he sipped his drink, eyes on your mouth. “you’re still pretty.”

and this time—you didn’t fight the smile.

you just leaned back, let your leg rest against his, let the stars spin above you while the fire cracked and the party swelled and the night felt like something you could hold.

and when he reached over and traced a finger through the glitter on your arm, smudging it into stardust, you let him.

you remembered the joint right as you were sinking deeper into the chair—half-lidded, drunk on heat and him and beer foam.

you sat up a little straighter. “shit—I left something in my bag.”

he shifted, placing his arms on his legs, about to stand. “want me to—?”

“no,” you said quickly, rising before he could. “just… wait here.”

he gave you a look. amused. suspicious. like he knew.

and he did know—if he followed you? if the two of you got even a second alone?

you weren’t coming back to the fire.

not tonight.

"stay," you murmured, glancing at the center before turning back to him. "i'll be right back. promise."

he sighed and sunk back down into his chair. then saluted you with his solo cup. “alright, yes ma'am."

you grinned and started walking backwards, not turning around until the sand under your feet turned into grass.

you found your bag tucked behind the snack table, dug through the side pouch until your fingers brushed the little case.

you lit the joint at the edge of the field and took one long, blessed drag.

exhaled slow.

it was quiet here.

cooler.

and for a second, you let yourself just…float. not think. not worry. not feel every cell in your body reaching for the boy with the ocean eyes and kiss-dumb mouth who had no idea how much power he held in your chest.

you headed back before the quiet turned into questions.

he wasn't where you left him.

he was standing now. back to you. surrounded by his kook boys.

you took another deep drag before heading towards him, ready to interrupt whatever groundbreaking thing they were laughing about.

they were definitely drunk. their slurred voices were carrying through the air, and you caught the tail end of their rambling.

topper snorted. “he’s tryna get off early. gotta finesse the director.”

someone whistled.

“you at least hitting it?”

“shit,” rafe chuckled, “gotta get some kind of credit.”

you stopped in your tracks.

because they laughed.

he laughed.

you stood there, joint flickering low between your fingers.

he didn’t see you. didn’t know you were close enough to hear.

you watched as he tipped back his drink, laughed like it didn’t mean anything.

and maybe it didn’t.

maybe you were being dramatic. maybe he was just playing along. maybe that’s how they talked. maybe it was easier. maybe you were just tired. high. stupid.

but still.

it stung.

because he sounded like he was proud of it. like he’d won something.

like it was a favor.

you took one last drag.

and then turned on your heels.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻

note: yea 🤍

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[creati-bunny]

WHAT HAPPENS TO INTERNS WHEN THEY SLEEP WITH SOMEONE WHO TURNS OUT TO BE THEIR BOSS? Their focus breaks, their minds will only be filled with the mind-blowing sex they had with that stranger, and thinking about the possibility of them getting kicked out of the medical program. As a surgeon, your priority should be your patients, and should always be. Levi Ackerman finds it the hard way when the attending he is supposed to consult to turns out to be you.

The Head of Neurology Department.

A shocked expression was on your face, seeing his presence in the hospital. He wanted to comment about the dark blue scrubs you’re wearing that look pretty damn good on you—if it weren’t for the fact that you’re his boss.

Levi scowls when he sees you walking towards him. You are wearing the biggest grin on your face like a damn fool, holding a chart of your patient’s. He was about to walk away.

About to.

“Didn’t know I’ll be seeing you soon, handsome,” you say casually with a suave grin, your eyes admiring the sky-blue scrubs on his body. “And here I thought I’d never see you again.”

You lean your elbow against the wall, staring him down with such a pleasant smile and did not waver the slightest when you see him walking away, practically ignoring you—you follow him like a curious puppy. “Hey, why are you ignoring me?”

Levi gives you a dry smile, “Dr. [Last Name], there is a patient who has nails punctured on his skull. And he is still declared alive; should I book an OR?” He gives the charts to you, doubling the weight in your arms.

“Oh? Interesting, ask them to book and prep an OR,” you read off the charts of the patient’s, letting out an interested hum. You give the charts to one of the nurses, commanding them to scrub in for prepping the OR. You look at him, eyes wandering up and down for a moment before chuckling breathily.

“You look hot when you’re being professional.”

“Dr. [Last Name].”

He seethes your name with venom, before roughly grabbing your arm and head over to the stairwell. He locks the door, before facing you with an unhappy look—it amuses you even further.

“Okay, this—we’re not doing this,” Levi clarified with a serious expression on his face, glowering at your bright one. You hummed out of curiosity.

“Why not? We are great for each other.”

“I’m being fucking serious. It was one night, and I was unaware you’re my boss—stop smiling, you piece of shit!”

You dramatically gasped, “You’re aware that I’m your boss, and you’re talking to me like that?” You pouted playfully, leaning in close to him. You fluttered your eyelashes, enough to make him roll his eyes. Yet the smell of your cologne was enough to lose his concentration, and partnered up with the color of your eyes.

This was getting dangerous.

“I don’t even know your name, doctor,” you control your fingers from fondling the fat on his cheeks, wanting to just have him in your arms in the on-call room. “You just left me alone at your house, kicking me out after having the best night with me.”

You are irritating—it does not help that Levi knew what would happen with interns who tend to sleep with their boss. “We need to be professional; you’re banned from ever laying a hand on me,” he gets close to you, wanting to overthrow you with his glare, challenging you. “We will talk because of patients and what’s wrong with them.”

“I still haven’t heard your name, doctor.”

You glow like flowers and the sun. He stares up at you with irritation, probably disgust, not something so mushy and dirty like what he felt with you in your bedroom; the image of your naked body rubbing against his, and how pleasure blooms between you two so much—the orgasm breaks out like a fountain, and your mouth, too skilled for a surgeon who is supposed to be good with their hands, made him reach a high.

“Levi. Levi Ackerman,” he complied at your request quietly, his guarded eyes slowly softening when he saw the happiness in your eyes. Both of you shared silence for a moment before he broke it off and left you alone in the stairway.

Like how he left you alone early morning.

It was hard to avoid you.

Not when you’re one of the most prestigious and excellent neurosurgeons the hospital knows, and every neuro consult will obviously be conducted towards you, the head of Neurology Deparment. Levi watches you with the other interns he is with as you consolidate the diagnosis your patient has.

“What do you suggest we do, doctors?” Your tone is professional, different from how you acted towards him in the stairwell. And of course, Levi knew what procedures should be done—should he raise his hand? Because he knew that it is rare to be in one of your surgeries.

But he cannot be with you, can he? He can, but his morals want to stop him… but you’re staring at him, like you’re expecting him to know the answer, like you’re expecting so much of him—of course he does know the answer. So, why was he not answering?

“Dr. Ackerman?”

Levi does not want to enjoy the proud glint in your eyes, even though you’re not smiling; you wear your heart in your sleeve. He answers smoothly, like he’s not battling with his innermost feelings about you. Yet, he caves in when you tell him to scrub in with you.

And that begins the hardship.

“Scalpel.”

He stares into your focused eyes, watching you take a flap off the skull of the patient’s, dousing water on his brain. The precision of your hands was amazing—like your hands were made for surgery; your hands move smoothly with no hesitation.

“What does this tell us, Dr. Ackerman?” You asked him to test his knowledge, your hands slowly taking out the needles one by one. Levi looks into your eyes, cursing you in his mind.

“Vitals are stable and should be good for the night. Any signs of abnormality will be less frequent if he takes his medications.”

“Very good, Ackerman.” He thinks the coffee is making his heart palpitate, not because of your praise. You were persistent, subtle, and really so sly—it gets under his nerves.

The surgery lasted for a few hours, and it was successful. That’s how good you are. That’s how skilled your hands were. Proven by the staff, by the patient, by the chief, and by him. Medical and non-medical.

You were about to head home; you were not annoying him anymore after the surgery, and he figured it was because you were tired enough.

You take the elevator, the doors about to slide close before a foot shoves in to keep them open.

He walks in without a word, pressing the emergency button to keep the elevator from moving. The tired look on your face became relieved when you saw him, and Levi wonders why that happens; it was only one night, and you make it something like it is something more.

“You did well,” his words break the silence. You turn your head to look at him in surprise at his compliment. “You were amazing back in the OR.”

“Oh?”

Your heart beats a bit fast, not expecting him to compliment you. You let out a hearty chuckle, towering over him. “You as well, doctor,” you gaze at his lips and into his gorgeous eyes. His neck—the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he senses you getting closer.

“Don’t,” he warned you with a sneer, making you back away with an innocent smile. “It was just a compliment, you’re crossing the line.”

“There is a line?”

“A line that I drew between us,” he pushes your whole body weight with one hand, not caring that he was manhandling you, his boss, out in public. “We are not to speak with each other unless it’s about our patients. You fucking get me?”

You become silent at his words; you’re too focused on his hand, blatantly, almost about to fondle your chest. The tension between you two worsens when you feel each other’s heartbeats; his breathing was becoming ragged, his eyes intensely boring into yours.

He remembers the moment you pleasure him, the moment he pleasure you; the moans he elicits out of you, it was music to his ears. Levi bites his lower lip, focusing on your lips, and thinks about how it felt when they were wrapped around his—

“You’re staring. For someone who doesn’t want to cross the line,” you whispered teasingly, your breath fanning over his face. Levi clicked his tongue, backing away and regaining his conciousness.

“Do you get off to this sick power play?” he spits back at you with a bite in his voice, his fists clenching around his sides while he glares at you. “You expect me to stare at you all day, expecting good surgeries in exchange for sleeping with you? Just so you know, I’m not a slut.”

“I’m not saying you are, Levi.”

“Don’t call me by my first name, Dr. [Last Name],”

You grinned with sick amusement, watching him get flustered under your gaze. You bit your lip, getting close to him, “So this line you’re talking about… is it imaginary?” you mumbled with a sultry voice, your fingers ghosting over his waist—already close to breaking the line by touching his skin. “… or should I get a marker to draw it?”

Levi stared into your eyes for a moment, a permanent scowl on his face. The tension snaps; he crashed his warm lips against you, his charts dropping on the floor as he wrapped his arms around your neck. You reciprocated it easily, gripping his waist as roughly as he does—the room was getting hot, he was getting hot and bothered.

“T—That’s..!”

He lets out a breathy whine, feeling your fingers rubbing against his lower back. You knew it was one of his sensitive spots. Your hands wander around his ass, fondling it—you let him dominate the kiss, the lust inside you blurring out your mind to do the right thing. You two pulled away with force; he caught his breath while staring into your eyes as if you defiled him.

You wet your lips with your tongue, dazed from the intense makeout session with him. Levi did not even give you the time to comprehend the situation before he pulled back the emergency button and immediately left you again in the elevator.

One of his habits? Him leaving someone when he feels overstimulated. And he certainly doesn’t want to have sex with his boss in an elevator.

inspired by Grey’s Anatomy || image is by @suzupiyosan on X

I ONLY WRITE FOR FUN. I DO NOT INTEND TO REWRITE THE PERSONALITY OF THE CHARACTERS AND CLAIM THEM AS CANON. I AM AWARE OF THE COMPLEXITY OF THE CHARACTERS PRESENTED.

[dispatchvampire]

Nailed It

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: super duper fluffy, some pining, some misunderstanding

Summary: Reader takes Bucky with her to the nail salon and ends up with a whole lot more than a polish change.

WC: 2240

A/N: No use of y/n, reader isn't described, and this is a shameless 'we have always lived in the tower' fic. Basically, CW never happened, Tony, Steve, and Bucky got their poop in a group like adults, and it's always chill on the communal floor.

Italicized conversation is in Vietnamese, plus a couple other phrases written out.

Special note: many thanks to @noellez-best-life23 and her hubs for the beta and the assistance. They rock.

Divider by @enchanthings

“Where ya headed?” Bucky asked, his voice carrying over from the couch in the common area while you made your way into the kitchen. The only parts of him you could truly see were the beat up old boots hanging over the arm of the sectional at one end and the curtain of his hair draped across the other end

“Hell if I don’t change my ways,” you replied as you filled your emotional support thermos with ice and fresh water. His little giggle in reply made you smile. “Headed out to get the claws sharpened.” 

This was greeted with the cutest gopher impression you’d ever seen, with only the top of his head popping up over the back of the couch to reveal his gorgeous eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s a thing you need?” he asked as he sat up further and brushed his dark bangs out of his face. 

“I’m going to get my nails done,” you clarified with a smile, showing off your purple, glittery tips in desperate need of some professional attention. “Wanna come with?” 

Now, a part of you asked as a joke, because that wasn’t really his scene. It wasn’t like Lotus Nails in Little Saigon was a huge tourist attraction. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to spend time with him. 

In the protective confines of the tower, you were mission support and comms, not a superhero in any way but tech, and yet, you and Bucky had hit it off immediately, bonding over sci-fi and fantasy books and movies. He was frighteningly smart, with a sarcastic sense of humor and a sassy beautiful mouth. He made the cloistered, serious life of being a member of the Avengers Support crew fun. 

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed he was pretty. Like intimidatingly so, even without the metal arm. You had eyes, and had had a healthy crush on him going back to eighth grade American History class, but in person… You’d like to say it was no problem at all overlooking that ridiculously sharp jawline and those massive shoulders, and that mouth… whew. 

But more than just a gorgeous everything, Bucky Barnes was a sweetheart. If ever a man ignited your desire to cuddle them, it was him. Something about him made you squishy and soft, and while normally you’d squash that instinct immediately, with him you were hesitant to follow through on that. 

In the first place, you had no idea how he felt about you. Up to this point, you’d been wallowing in your one-sided crush on a man who was likely emotionally unavailable in that sense. Not that you blamed him. After all he’d been through, he needed to do what he needed to do for him and you would never begrudge him that. 

In the second place, there was the not so little matter of you. You weren’t armed with potentially lethal sexiness like Natasha, or waif-like and twee like Wanda. You didn’t have illusions, not once in the history of ever had you been anyone’s first choice. Not that that really mattered anymore. Thanks to therapy and working on yourself, you were strong in your own sense of self and mostly unbothered by how other people perceived you or responded to you. 

It’s still unclear to you how a question tossed out so flippantly resulted in you standing in a crowded subway car to the Village with the Winter Soldier pressed in behind you like the most menacing and unreasonably hot shadow possible, but you had to admit, his henley, boots, and jeans combo coupled with his long hair, bright eyes, and stubble, was a thirst trap in every practical sense. 

So much for the relaxing afternoon you’d had planned. Now you’d be spending it focusing on keeping your libido from taking over your tongue and releasing your mortifyingly acute crush on such an unsuspecting victim. 

You two had made some smalltalk on the way to the salon, the brisk afternoon breeze refreshing after the stuffy train ride. 

You’d told him about needing to change from your winter to your summer color palette on your tips and toes, and he’d nodded along dutifully, glancing at your sandaled feet. The squinting  look of confusion and vague consternation never really left his face. 

He held the door as you entered the building, likely a reflex but you thanked him all the same. If you blushed a little, you could chalk it up to the sun exposure. 

“Ch��o các bạn,” you greeted the ladies as you walked into the salon. You’d been coming here for years, longer than you’d been with the Avengers even, so this place was a regular haunt for you. Because of the time of day, the place was mostly empty except for the staff, all of whom were sweet and very curious about your tagalong. 

“You speak Vietnamese?” Bucky questioned over the chattering as he watched you interact with your friends. 

“Sure,” you replied with a shrug and a smile. “Learned it for just this reason, actually. I like talking to folks and meeting new people.” He nodded, but it was hard to tell if he was still confused or slightly impressed. Then a stroke of genius struck you fast and hard. “Have you ever had a pedicure?” 

The wide blue eyes and quick wash of pallor as the blood left his face before coalescing in his cheeks made you laugh openly. “N-no?” 

The slight stutter of terror didn’t miss you at all. “You want one?” His response of blinking and not much else. “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“But-but, my toes.” It was hard to parse out the source of his exact concern, but he sounded like a little kid being asked to give up his beloved blanky for a quick stint in the laundry. His furrowed brow and hint of a pout made you want to kiss him all over his face and hold him while you reassured him. Admirably, you kept your hands and lips to yourself.

“Will have the time of their life, trust me.” You hoped your smile was reassuring, ”C’mon, it’ll be fun. Certainly more fun than just sitting in the lobby waiting for me to get done. Plus, it’ll be on me. I think you’ll like it.” 

His skeptical look followed him over his shoulder as he was led across the room to the pedi chairs and you were taken over to a table to begin your regular ritual. 

“Cut down?” your nail tech asked as she removed your electric purple gel polish a finger at a time. 

“Please,” you confirmed, though your attention was firmly across the room as Bucky was directed to take off his boots and roll up his pant legs to the knees. They were, unsurprisingly, just as sexy as the rest of him. He looked thoroughly flummoxed and out of his depth, but played along gamely. 

“He’s cute,” she observed in Vietnamese as she carried on flawlessly with her task. All the other techs in the room chimed in with agreements and additional praises for everything from his ‘pretty eyes’ to ‘big, sexy body’. If he only knew how in depth these ladies appreciated his form, he’d probably pass out from embarrassment. 

“Very,” you agreed with a smile, heat suffusing your cheeks totally unbidden. You feared that if he looked over right then, he’d know immediately that you were talking about him, but alas, nothing to be done. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” 

Your snorted giggle was wholly unintentional. “Don’t I wish. He’s not, unfortunately, but I totally would take him if he asked.” 

That answer perked up your tech considerably. “Ooh, that’s too bad. Does that mean he’s single?” 

You shook your head, doing your best not to grimace. “No.” It was hard not to sound petulant, but it was true. “I think he’s seeing someone.” At least, if the amount of Sharon Carter sightings you’d had in his vicinity were anything to go by. That woman was doing her best to hang off him like a poorly fitted suit. 

“Lucky them, I guess.”

“You have no idea.” You shook your head with a sad smile. “The things I would do to have him look at me… see me like that? I’d be an absolute menace. But alas.” You sighed wistfully and shrugged, admiring your fresh overlays as they cured. 

“Pity.” She patted your hand in sympathy before hauling out a massive set of polish color swatches. “Still, it’s good to have a friend, yes?”

“It is.” You nodded as you flipped through the selection to the glitter contingent. “This one please.” You handed her back the swatch for her to pull your color, when something caught your eye. 

It was blue. Bright, metallic blue with turquoise flakes that shimmered like the sun on the open seas. You looked at it and smiled, immediately thinking of the man across the room. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Bucky was still in the pedi chair by the time your hands were done, so you bopped on over to sit at an adjacent work station. His demeanor was lightyears away from the fearful one he’d had coming in, kicked back with eyes closed in utter bliss, his legs wrapped in hot towels and receiving a hot stone massage. “You good, Barnes?”

“Best I’ve been in a while, actually,” he confirmed without opening his eyes, a lazy grin unfurling across his lips. “I feel like you’ve been holding out on me. This is absolute heaven.” 

You took a moment to make eye contact with the tech working on him and handed off the bottle of polish you’d brought over with you. Her startled expression when she’d uncapped the shiny goodness made it difficult to stifle your laughter, but in the end, she just shrugged and nodded. 

“I’m glad you think so. What are you thinking about doing after this?” 

He shrugged. “Hadn’t thought about it, really. Not in the mood to return to the Tower?”

“Not especially.” You watched as the tech applied the bright blue polish with deft, practiced strokes and hit the nails with the UV lights to cure the polish quickly. “You got something in mind?”

“There’s a great Italian place not too far from here on Broome, just off of Mulberry. You wanna go?”

“James Barnes, are you asking me on a date?” your intention to keep your tone teasing and low stakes was entirely undone by your sudden breathlessness. In a bazillion years, this is not how you would have seen your afternoon going. 

“I might be.” Eyes that shimmered like moondust met yours, a tender, playful grin spread across his lips which did nothing at all to improve your breathing situation. “You interested?”

“You better say yes!” Nancy, the manager hollered across the salon from the front desk. 

“If you don’t, I definitely will!” your traitorous nail tech supplied. The rest of the girls in the place all chimed in with various levels of encouragement and teasing. 

“Give me a second to breathe, dang!” You couldn’t stop laughing, both from the giddyness in your chest and the exuberant chaos erupting in the salon. “I’m working on it.”

“Whaddya say, cutie?” 

Your face felt like it was on fire as much from the sudden nickname as it was from the whole room quieting down to await your answer. It was unnerving being so put on the spot, and yet, not enough to change your mind. “I like Italian,” you replied softly. 

“Alright then.” 

Bucky smiling was a rarity that you cherished. The way he beamed in that moment though, was a fricking revelation. It was a good thing you were already sitting down, because that would have absolutely taken out your knees otherwise. 

Once his nail tech turned him loose, he leaned down to put his socks back on, pausing with a puzzled look on his face before carrying on with his task. You’d expected him to freak out or at least have some questions, so his silence on the matter of his newly adorned toes was a bit disconcerting. You weren’t going to bring it up unless he did, though. 

You pulled your wallet out as you went up to the front to settle your bill. It was a bit pricier than you’d anticipated, but seeing the smile on Bucky’s face and spring in his step was more than worth the extra cost. 

“Cảm ơn bạn vì tất cả mọi thứ,” Bucky told Nancy as you signed off on the credit card slip, and you almost tossed the pen. 

“I’m sorry, what?” The blood drained from your head at a speed so fast it left you dizzy. You had absolutely no control of the way your jaw practically unhinged as it dropped open in shock.

Instead of answering you, he turned to address the rest of the room who were watching with undisguised curiosity. “I appreciate everything you did this afternoon. You are all too sweet.” Turning back to you like he hadn’t just set off the verbal equivalent of an incendiary device, he offered you his arm. “You ready, sweetheart?”

Shutting your mouth with an audible click, you nod mutely. In fact, you don’t manage to speak until you’re at least half a block down the street. “You never told me you speak Vietnamese.” 

The smug smirk and equally sexy wink about ended you on the spot. “You never asked.”

[not-rigel]

would you be interested in writing Sevika x (top) reader who is taller than her, stronger than her, and overall just larger than her and very masculine BUTTT is very submissive??? Kinda like a power bottom Sevika x sub top reader situation👀👀

uhhh YEA!!! hope i did your idea justice!

a little treat for arcane eve (i can expand more after arcane ends but i felt we needed a liiiitle enjoyment before losing our collective minds)

Set between s2 act 1 and 2

WC: 1.1k

Sevika honestly couldn't blame everyone for dropping ship when Silco decided to quit breathing. They have their own lives to lead. But the fact that you stayed stood out to her. When she sat in Silco’s office beaten and broken, you were the one that came to deliver the news and defend the Last Drop with her from the Chem Barons influence. You made grieving easier but the feeling was never gone. Sevika couldn’t talk about those things so most of the time she settled for drinking or flirting with you. Right now she decided on teasing you in her new office. 

“So, pipsqueak, what’ll you do if I can't fix this shitstorm?” 

You roll your eyes, you have no idea why she insists on giving you stupid nicknames, “Sevika, I could throw you across the room without even trying. Between the two of us, you’re the pipsqueak. And everything’ll be fine.”

“I argue that I can take you,” she says. Unbeknownst to you, she doesn’t mean in a fight. 

She's been attracted to you the very moment she saw you, back when Silco hired you on for muscle. She never made a move, for the sake of professionalism. Even after Silco’s death she held back, unsure how she’d emotionally handle a sexual entanglement. But she was getting better, now that weeks have passed and she changed her look. So she let herself consider making a move.

“Alright, and how many times have I held you back while you were on shimmer?” you challenged. 

“That’s in the past, pipsqueak. I'm talking now.” 

There’s that nickname again, “Fuck you, Sevika. You need to stop calling me that, please.” 

“Are you offering?” she quips back. 

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You said ‘fuck you’. I’m asking if you were offering to fuck me,” she clarifies.

You’re speechless. Sure, you’ve thought about Sevika in that way on several occasions but it was always just a thought. You thought about her, when she barked out orders to Silco’s goons. Or stared down at Enforcers, daring them to so much as lay a finger on her. She was always scarier than you in that regard, someone who could take real charge. It always excited you. You watch her now, for some sign that she was messing with you but you can’t find any.

“Not initially but… I’m offering now,” you say before hesitation can sink in. 

She smirks, standing from the sofa and walking over to the desk. You watch her open a drawer and pull out something you recognize. It’s her old choker, the one she wore before changing her appearance. You gulp as she approaches you. 

“What’s that for?” you asked. 

“It’s for you,” she explains. She fits the collar around your neck, adjusting the fit. You think it might be too loose but she slips a finger underneath and drags you to her by it. You let out a whimper as she pulls you by the choker to her lips. 

“You’re so strong, so tall, so fucking masc. It turns me on so fucking much,” she whispers against your lips. You could take control right now, she’s only exerting a small amount of force over you. Holding you in place by a choker, but you don’t resist her. 

She pulls the collar again, setting her lips right by your ear, “Been waiting for you to fuck me.”

Immediately you’re filled with nerves. You love to top but you’re not dominant, despite what your appearance might suggest. You want to fuck her and by all physical means you could manhandle her, but it never came naturally to you. 

“Can you… Tell me what to do? I really want you, I do,” you sigh. 

Sevika shivers. She’s never met anyone so perfect before. Sevika needs you to fuck her, but more than that she needed to boss you around. It always gave her the sweetest thrill. And to boss around someone physically stronger than her, to have you relent all the power to her? She could fall in love in a minute. 

“Would you submit for me? Let me boss you around? Tell you how I’ve dreamed about you fucking me?” She purrs into your ear. Her words are sweet drops of fire, licking your skin deliciously.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy, uneven breaths, “Yes. Fuck, I’d love it.” 

“You’re so strong and all I have to do to get you weak for me is pull you by your collar? You’re so precious,” she moans. 

“I like it when you boss people around. Made me so wet. I’d do anything you tell me to, please Sevika,” there was no holding it in now, the choker and her words eased you into subspace.

That’s how you find yourself knelt between her spread thighs while she sits with her ass perched on the edge of the sofa, shoving your head into her cunt. She doesn’t wait for you to find her clit, instead shifting her hips to move it below your lips. 

“Grab my hips,” she orders, needing you to manhandle her. Just to show that you could control her, but ultimately won’t. You grip her hips, and she shifts her thighs over your shoulders so you have to hold her weight up. You rest your elbows onto the sofa for support, and hold her hips in the air. Both of you were feeling a perfect rush, the sexual dynamic making you thrive like you never had before. 

Sevika groans hearing your sweet little whimpers as she begins to grind onto your face. You move to keep up with her grinding, trying to hold the suction you have on her clit. 

“Stick your tongue out, mouse,” she demands. She loves giving you nicknames to insinuate you’re small. You’re not little, and she loved that. Every time you convinced her to drop one nickname, she came up with another. It was a power trip for her. 

You flatten out your tongue so she can ride it, and you moan as her fluids spread over your face. She leaked onto your chin and you loved the sensation of being covered in her. Loved how she barks commands at you. 

“Shit, gonna cum on your handsome face,” she announces, knees bending to pull you closer. You keep your tongue still, letting her ride your face until you feel her thighs tremble. Her thighs squeeze your head as her hips stop their movement. You shove your tongue into her cunt, feeling her walls pulse around it. She cums loud and hard, juices leaking down your chin and neck. You shudder, feeling your own arousal drip from you. When her orgasm is over, she has you set her back onto the couch. 

“You’re not done, runt. Still need you inside of me,” she rasps. You’re alight with excitement for more of her demands, ready to beg for her all night long. 

[runraerun]

darling, dearest, dead

written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge for November | prompt: guard | wc: 532 | rated: G | cw: major character death (but not really?) | tags: angst with a hopeful ending, Ghost!Steve Harrington, GhostHunter!Eddie Munson

There’s a legend that the first person who gets buried in a cemetery becomes the guardian of all the other souls buried there after. They become a reaper of sorts, ferrying the newly dead from this world to the next—a place they can never go.

This is what happens to Steve Harrington, aged just eighteen when he tragically dies in the Starcourt tragedy in ‘85.

Steve, who dies but doesn’t move on. Doesn’t go peacefully into that good night, or however the hell the saying goes. He can’t.

Steve, who attends his own burial, but despite how loud he screams into the faces of his loved ones, goes entirely unheard.

He eventually gets it, of course. Despite what everyone thinks (thought? Do they still think of him?) Steve isn’t stupid. He catches on quickly when the first few souls come wandering up to him, lost and alone. Steve can see the path they’re supposed to follow, even when they can’t. So, Steve takes the time to explain to them what he knows, tries to comfort them, before guiding them towards the afterlife.

It’s a curse, really. Eternal isolation. Decades pass but Steve remains. The few souls he speaks to are always so eager to leave him. In the end, Steve’s left alone.

And then one day, Eddie Munson comes stomping through his cemetery.

—🛡️—

“What’s with the get up?” A dark haired stranger asks, startling Steve, “there an anime convention going on or something?”

Steve’s eyes trail up and down the newcomer. He wants to make a comment about the strange attire he died in, but upsetting the newly departed usually isn’t a good idea.

“It’s my work uniform. I didn’t have time to change.” Steve explains, a well-rehearsed response. The Scoops uniform that he can never shed was always a point of interest for people. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

This is the first time Steve’s missed a burial. Strange.

The guy snorts, “don’t apologize. I’m the one intruding. You visiting someone? I can wait to do my shit.”

Steve frowns, brows creasing where they come together. “No. I’m just… waiting.” He answers.

“For the ghost?” The stranger asks, his interest clearly piqued.

Steve blinks. “The ghost?”

“Yeah, y’know. The ghost that supposedly haunts this graveyard. Legend has it it’s some guy who died way back in the 80’s—there've been sightings for like, thirty years, but no one’s been able to actually record anything decent. All the pictures are super blurry. But I intend to change that. I’m Eddie, by the way. Ghost hunter and semi-professional psychic.” Eddie grins, giving a strange little bow in his introduction.

Wait…

“1985?” Steve asks.

“Yep,” Eddie pop’s the ‘p’, “The year Starcourt burned down and old Steven Harrington bit the dust. You know the story?”

Steve didn’t need to breathe—not anymore. And yet, he still felt short of breath. Lightheaded.

“It’s just Steve.” He clarifies.

“Yeah?” Eddie snorts, “how would you—”

A light seems to go off in Eddie’s head. He pales, eyes widening.

“You can really see me?” Steve can’t help but laugh, tears stinging his eyes.

“Yeah, I can see you, Steve.” Eddie mumbles, stunned, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

—

tagging: @sleepy-steve because they let me rant about reaper Steve to them<3 check out her reaper!eddie fic: here!💘

[vesseloflukola]

Let’s talk about “Professional Jealousy”, shall we? I feel like most of us know what this actually means. Actual Professional Jealousy is envy that someone else in your profession is doing better at the job than you; that they are more successful or more recognized. However, Nic and Luke tried to convince us that Professional Jealousy was something different altogether. To them, “Professional Jealousy” was when you become jealous any time your scene partner flirts with, talks to, or has an intimate scene with another actor of the opposite sex who is not yourself.

They were actually just plain jealous of one another. I think it was both apparent to the people they worked with, as well as those of us who listened to their answers in interviews on the World Tour.

I mean, why else would all of the other couples dancing around Nic and Sam (Pen and Debling) be pulled out one by one until only Nic and Sam were dancing together so that they could get such a great jealous reaction from Luke as Colin when he sees his Pen and Lord Debling dancing? Luke actually said “ I have to clarify. I WAS fuming. That was completely legit.” Sir? That was the statement he made where Nicola felt the need to tell the fandom about their “Professional Jealousy” in the first place.

Luke continued to show us how jealous he was whenever Nicola would make a flirty remark toward a male interviewer, or talk about her attraction to either Ryan Gosling or Leonardo DiCaprio. He also really didn’t seem to like her looking deep into Luke Thompson’s eye’s when there were questions over what color they were.

Luke isn’t the only jealous one though. Nic admitted she did not like him flirting with all the ladies in the Ton, and she did not love that he had those brothel scenes. She admitted to already being jealous of his next leading lady (which we now know is Lucy Hale) and reminded him that SHE was his “first fake girlfriend”.

It’s funny, because last time I checked, friends don’t get that kind of jealous of one another. However, people who have deeper feelings do. It’s ironic to me how many people have been trying to say Nic and Luke are “just friends”. They have never once said those words.

Luke has called Nic a lovely friend and his Best Friend. Nic has said that Luke is a very special person in her life and she doesn’t have a relationship with anyone else in her life like the one she has with him. Most recently Nic mentioned that a lot of people would like the two of them to get married. What they have never said is “we are just friends”, “please stop shipping us”, or “why would we get married?”. What they have done is give us crumbs here and there. What they have done is continue to mention or reference one another.

We don’t know for sure that they are currently together, but I believe that they are. What we do know is that the pictures we have seen of them lately, they are both glowing. What we do know is that they are back to filming Season 4 with their Bridgerton family. Coincidence? I don’t think so!

[taevescence]

Guilty As Sin? | Prologue

Summary: You have just entered your new job as an intern in a hospital you worked so hard to get into; at last, after so many years, you had managed to fulfill your dreams, little by little, step by step. You had finished your studies with honors, you had a beautiful -and luxurious- apartment in the center of the city, you had just entered the job of your dreams and your relationship with your dream boyfriend was going great. Or so you thought until you met Kim Taehyung, the clinical mentor you were in charge of, who doesn't seem to mind keeping his opinion about your relationship and your idealized vision - in his own words - of your life. Author’s note: I'm really sorry for the delay, I was busy trying to inform myself a bit about the topic before writing :( I really hope it's well understood and that you enjoy it (this is a prologue, so there won't be drama here -yet-, expect that in chapter 1!) Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (female) AUs: Doctor!AU (Taehyung and Reader are OB-GYN) Word count: 2.8k Warnings: This is only the prologue, so there is not much to warn lol, the only relevant thing to clarify is that one of oc's patients arrives at the emergency room due to preeclampsia. Status: Unedited Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee @thelilbutifulthings @calmyourtitts7

You finished fixing your shirt, taking a deep breath as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. You looked good, you felt good. You had been waiting for this day for weeks, crossing your fingers for time to pass faster, so you could finally enter the BRH hospital, one of the largest and most important in Seoul. This was a golden opportunity, and you would give everything you had to hold onto your position until you were a full professional.

"Are you ready?" Hyunjin asked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and placing a delicate kiss just below your ear. You couldn't help but feel that little electric shock that ran through your body at the touch. "You look great," he whispered with a laugh, releasing his hold to walk toward the wardrobe.

Inside, there were a large number of neatly hung shirts, and on the floor, stored in a drawer, were dozens of ties he wore for his job. It was important for him to have a polished image, something that screamed that he was the boss, and for that, he needed good attire, or at least that’s what he always told you when you asked why he had so many ties if, in the end, he always picked the same one.

"I have to go, I don’t want to be late on my first day," you approached him, taking the black tie in his hands to tie it under the collar of his shirt. "I don't think we'll see each other much from now on... but I’ll try to manage my time as best as I can!" You gave him a smile before gently patting his shoulders. You felt your cheeks warm up when you saw him staring at you with a smile.

Ah, you felt so lucky.

"Okay, don't worry," he murmured, kissing your forehead gently. "Let me know when you arrive, okay?"

You nodded quickly, grabbing your purse and phone, rushing toward the exit of your apartment. Your steps were confident and firm, you knew the way by heart, you had reviewed it more than twenty times this past week, preparing for any detours you might need to take in case of an accident or how long it would take to get there if there was heavy traffic.

Today will be a great day, you told yourself. Today, you would put everything you learned in your years of university to the test, and you would do it perfectly.

"Alright, I’ll be direct, we don’t have much time. I’m Kim Taehyung, gynecology and obstetrics specialist, and your new supervisor," said a tall man in a lab coat, placing a stack of files on a large table in the center. There were five in total, one for each of the residents present. "These are the files you need to review, if you have any doubts about any of the cases, don't hesitate to ask me; we're in a hospital, there are lives at risk, and if we can avoid ending one of them due to our mistake, that would be ideal," he directed a tight-lipped smile at the five of you; despite his direct words, his tone was quite soft, which definitely helped ease the first-day nerves. "If I'm unavailable, you can always reach out to another supervisor, and don't hesitate to trust the nurses, they are the ones who move this hospital, believe me, they know much more than you can imagine."

Everyone nodded almost automatically to his comment; one of the guys, the one with tattoos on his right arm, approached the files, taking the one on top and opening it to review the content. Only then did the rest of you, including yourself, pull out a file.

Supervisor Kim remained standing in front of the table, watching your reactions. You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little uncomfortable, but you understood that part of his job was to observe his residents. You shook your head gently, dismissing the thought quickly to focus on your work.

The first thing you saw when you opened the file was the patient's name, Kim Jiyeon, a 29-year-old woman, 28 weeks pregnant. You couldn't help but smile when you saw it was her first pregnancy. Was she excited to have the baby? Oh, you would love to see the face of one of your patients when revealing the gender of their future baby, was it too soon to think about that?

You bit the inside of your cheek and continued reading the information. She came for a routine prenatal checkup and, according to the file, there were no significant issues, which really relieved you. You didn’t want to deal with a complicated case on your first day; it was one thing to be excited and another to want to push your nerves to the limit when you were just starting your professional life.

You studied the information one last time before feeling ready to leave the office; your shift officially started at 8 in the morning, which was in nine minutes. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. You were too nervous, too excited, too scared. It was a strange combination, but that’s how you felt.

"Hey!" The guy with the tattooed arm placed one of his hands on your shoulder, smiling widely at you. There was something about the softness of his voice and the strength of his body that confused you a little. He didn’t really fit with... well, with him. "What case did you get? I got a post-partum checkup."

You looked at his hand, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over your body. You couldn't remember the last time someone other than your boyfriend touched your shoulder casually, especially a young man—and, to be honest, quite handsome. Still, you didn’t say anything, not that he had done anything wrong, after all.

"Uhm, I have... I have a prenatal checkup," you murmured, looking at the file in your hands. Why was time moving so slowly? It should already be 8, you should be working, not talking to the guy you barely knew.

"Really? What a coincidence! You’re doing a prenatal and I’m doing a postnatal," he laughed before finally releasing your shoulder. He stopped in front of you, his big smile reminding you that you shouldn’t be so uncomfortable with him. "Oh, by the way, I’m Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you," he gave a slight bow, slipping his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "I really hope we get along."

You nodded slightly, looking around. The other residents were chatting among themselves, discussing who knows what while letting out friendly laughs. And then there was Taehyung.

He hadn’t moved an inch from his initial position at the head of the table, the only difference was that now his hands were resting on it, his body leaning slightly forward, and oh, he was staring at you intently.

You almost choked on your saliva when your eyes met his.

"What about you?" Jungkook asked, looking at you as if he were expecting an obvious response from you.

What was he talking about?

"Excuse me?" You turned your full attention to him, trying—and failing—to ignore your supervisor's fixed gaze on you. Did you have something on your face? You hoped you didn’t have anything on your face.

"Your name, what is it?" He raised an eyebrow while one corner of his mouth lifted in a teasing smile. You felt stupid for a second, and your face didn’t take long to betray you as it warmed slightly from the embarrassment.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," you awkwardly took the tag hanging from your neck, showing it to him as confidently as you could, though it was too obvious that the shaky movement of your hands was due to nerves. "My name is Y/N."

"It’s a pleasure—"

"Alright! Time for your shifts to begin, remember to move quickly and precisely," Taehyung said from his spot, giving two overly loud claps before walking out of the room with all of you following behind. "I’m going to assume you were given a little tour this morning," he gave a slight bow to one of the nurses passing by him. You couldn’t help but notice how the nurse’s cheeks turned a soft pastel pink. It wasn’t like you could blame her; he was quite attractive. "This is where we split," he smiled softly once he reached the consultation counter, giving a slight nod of his head before speaking again, "I wish you the best for your first day."

And he left.

"Thank you so much, Doctor," murmured patient Kim Jiyeon, your first patient. Her hand gently touched her belly, and her face seemed to glow with joy. You assumed that any woman who loved the idea of having children would be happy to hear that her test results had come out well.

"See you, Miss Kim," you made a slight bow, waiting for her to leave the consultation room so you could straighten up. You never thought you’d be lucky enough to treat such a kind person on your first consultation, but here you were, smiling like a fool as you remembered how pleasant it had been to attend to her.

You couldn’t help but feel your chest warm as you thought about how wonderful it must be to see a mother meet her child for the first time, how the father would react to holding him in his arms… you had really made it to where you had always wanted to be.

Satisfied with your work, you finished the necessary report and decided to head back to the front desk where you last saw your supervisor. The desk was right in front of the entrance, so you could be present in case anyone needed your help.

There weren’t many people in the waiting room, probably because it was still quite early. You were about to lean against the desk to ask something of one of the people behind the window when a man quickly entered the hospital.

You knew you were screwed the moment he ran toward you and grabbed your shoulders tightly, shaking you back and forth in a desperate motion.

"My wife needs a doctor, please help!" The man's hands practically dragged you toward the hospital doors, and you almost went pale when you saw a woman with swollen face and hands, clinging to the entrance door with one hand while clutching her belly tightly with the other.

"Get a wheelchair!" You rushed to get to the woman, supporting her as best you could. Though it was your first time treating real patients, you knew perfectly well the symptoms they should have, and the swollen face and hands were definitely not a good sign.

You quickly thanked the nurse who provided the wheelchair, feeling your chest race every time the woman cried out in pain. Both of you helped the woman sit down and rushed her to a stretcher, with her husband following behind. His panic-stricken expression perfectly mirrored what you were feeling at the moment.

"I need you to help me lift her onto the stretcher," you looked at the nurse, who nodded firmly before leaving the woman lying on the stretcher. Both of you worked to stabilize the patient as best you could, and it wasn’t until you took her blood pressure that you truly grasped the seriousness of the situation. You suspected her pain wasn’t from contractions, but you really hoped your diagnosis in the middle of the crisis was wrong. "Please call Doctor Kim."

As soon as the nurse left the room, you tried to distance yourself from the woman, careful not to hurt her at any moment. "How many weeks is the baby?" you asked while observing her vital signs. You urgently needed an ultrasound.

"She’s 32 weeks," murmured the man, watching anxiously as his wife lay on the stretcher, tubes in her arms, and a mask helping her breathe. "What’s wrong with Minji, doctor? Will she be okay?" He stayed silent for a moment before finishing, "Will our baby be okay?"

Your heart tightened in your chest when you heard his question. You couldn’t guarantee the well-being of either of them due to hospital policy, and Minji's condition, as he had called her, wasn’t looking good. You didn’t want to say something and then have to watch the man break down with the news.

"What happened?"

You felt a great weight lift from your shoulders when you saw Taehyung enter with the nurse. His steps were firm and quick, and his face was much more serious than when you saw him last. You couldn’t help but feel guilty for having called him on short notice; had he gotten upset about that? Should you apologize?

"Give me a second," you said kindly to the man, moving toward Taehyung while rubbing your sweaty hands against your coat. You were on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but the patient needed you, so you would push down the urge to collapse on the floor and cry, and you would tell your supervisor everything you knew so far. "Her name is Minji, she’s 32 weeks, she came in with severe abdominal pain, her face and hands are swollen, and her blood pressure is far above normal. She had trouble breathing on her own, so we put her on a respirator," you whispered, keeping your gaze fixed on Minji.

"What do you think it is?" Taehyung, just like you, seemed to be paying close attention to the woman’s condition, focusing on her vital signs and blood pressure.

"Her symptoms are typical of preeclampsia. It’s hard to detect it earlier due to the commonality of its symptoms during pregnancy, which would explain why it hasn’t been treated until now," you looked at Minji’s husband, guilt and sorrow flooding you almost instantly. You needed to work on controlling your emotions. "I wanted to ask for an ultrasound to check the baby’s condition and see if we need to intervene in the pregnancy or not."

Taehyung nodded silently, approaching the stretcher and signaling to the nurse to follow with a gesture. "I need a portable obstetric ultrasound here in the emergency room immediately. Tell the imaging technician that this is an obstetric emergency. Ask them to prioritize fetal viability and amniotic fluid examination," while he spoke, he checked the fetal heartbeats with a portable Doppler monitor, frowning at the irregularity in the rhythm. "Also, make sure the ultrasound specialist is informed so we can get quick results."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Are you her husband?" he asked the man, who quickly nodded, quietly saying his name.

"Alright, Mr. Jihoon," Taehyung remained as calm as possible while helping the man sit in one of the nearby chairs, "Your wife has a condition called preeclampsia. In simple terms, it’s when the mother’s blood pressure rises dangerously, and it comes with other symptoms like protein in the urine," he said in a soft tone, trying to calm the man while explaining the situation. "Right now, we’re trying to keep her stable with some medications. Is she allergic to any medications?" He sighed when the man nervously shook his head. "Perfect. We’re going to do an ultrasound to check the baby’s condition. Doctor Y/N told me she’s 32 weeks, so it’s crucial to be sure how advanced the situation is."

"W-what happens if it’s too advanced?" murmured the man with a trembling voice.

You nearly choked on your saliva when you saw Taehyung signaling for you to answer his question.

"If... If preeclampsia is too advanced, we’ll need to treat your wife with corticosteroids before proceeding with the birth. It’s dangerous to intervene before 34 weeks of gestation," you said softly, trying to imitate Taehyung’s calm tone. You knew he had years of experience, but that didn’t change the fact that you envied his composure. Would you be like that after working here as many years as he had?

Taehyung nodded silently, looking at Jihoon with a gentle smile. "There are no signs of seizures yet, so there’s still a chance it hasn’t reached a stage that would endanger the natural delivery of your child."

Jihoon nodded silently, resting his elbows on his knees and running his hands through his hair. He looked utterly devastated, and you understood. Just hours ago, he probably thought everything was fine with his wife and her pregnancy, and now he was receiving the news that she had a condition that affected her pregnancy and could endanger both of their lives.

You wanted to approach the man to offer some comfort, but almost immediately, Taehyung’s large hand held your wrist, gently shaking his head, signaling for you not to do what you thought you were about to do.

Yes, maybe you had forgotten his presence at your side for a moment.

You returned to your original position, taking deep breaths to calm the nerves that were slowly starting to settle after your supervisor’s arrival, who now seemed unwilling to take his eyes off you. Again.

You let out a long sigh, refocusing your attention on Minji’s blood pressure.

Your professional life was just beginning, and it already felt like a mess.

Masterlist.

[elihii]

YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO DRIVE ME HORNY

ft. professor!leon x fem!reader

synopsis. you start being shy but you end up… dominant? i don't know. you basically fuck him and he's more than agreed with it. of course, he asks you to be.

warnings. 6.4k w. smut. professor/student role, you ride him until you're both tired, you two already have your previous tension, praise, and pleasant conversations with each other, jocularity in the environment, public sex, p in v, blowjob, overstimulation, sex on his teacher's desk, age difference (they are at a university, some years only). more than teaching you, you decide what you do. creampie and multiple cumshots/orgasms.

note. masterlist. aaaahhhhh i love id leon, this is an adaptation of one of mine's spicychat bots, i hope you enjoy your reading! ♡ (btw, gif's not mine and english is not my native language, sorry if there are mistakes.)

ㅤ

You stood in front of your teacher's desk, trying to maintain eye contact, despite feeling self-conscious about exposing so much skin in your short skirt and tight stockings up to the beginning of your thighs.

Leon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, giving you the chance to talk without having to worry about being close to him. His eyes couldn't help but get lost in appreciating every detail of your smooth exposed skin before meeting yours again.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Do you need help with something?

You looked at your skirt and looked back at Leon, blushing as you remembered the reason you approached his desk at the end of class.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Hm… yes. I came here because I have some questions about… sex stuff. ⸺ Your voice was barely audible due to embarrassment. You bit your lip out of nerves, waiting for his response.

Leon noticed the blush on your face and the hesitation in your voice, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of desire mixed with tenderness. He knew it was his responsibility to answer your questions honestly and professionally, but he also wanted to make sure you felt comfortable asking him anything.

He uncrossed his arms and clasped his hands on the desk, signaling to you that he was ready to listen to you and provide any information or help you might need.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Don't worry, it's okay, there's no need to be embarrassed. ⸺ He clarified calmly. ⸺ I know this topic can sometimes make people uncomfortable, but we need to have open conversations about sex. And more, if it is a topic for which you have doubts.

Despite his assurances, you still found it difficult to speak freely, but you managed to gather enough courage to continue.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Yeah… I mean… I… I heard you're good at explaining things… and I could use someone who knows what they're talking about…

Your voice trailed off, leaving the rest of your request implicit. You bit your lip again and looked down at your laps, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

Leon smiled warmly as you admitted that you found him knowledgeable and trustworthy when it came to discussing sensitive topics such as sex. He appreciated your confidence in his abilities and took it as a compliment.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Well, I certainly do my best. ⸺ He responded modestly.

He separated his hands and rested them on his desk, preparing for any questions or demonstrations you might have or need.

ㅤㅤ⸺ What would you like me to explain or demonstrate to you first? ⸺ He asked, directing his gaze to your face, anticipating your response.

You looked at him still hesitantly, your face redder than ever.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Could you…? ⸺ You didn't finish the question, and you limited yourself to looking intensely at Leon while you subtly lowered your gaze toward his crotch.

Leon noticed the direction of your gaze and immediately understood what you were implying. Even though he was technically your teacher, he couldn't deny the temptation that lay dormant beneath his pants.

With a look of understanding on his face, he stood up from his seat, unbuckling his belt and letting his soft erection fall free of his pants, pulling them down until his boxers were visible already straining at the bottom by his normal weight.

ㅤㅤ⸺ This should satisfy your curiosity. ⸺ He said, adjusting his cock, now marked in its entirety through his boxers.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Do you want something else? ⸺ he asked, looking at you expectantly for more indication of what you wanted him to do next.

Your eyes widened, admiring Leon's huge cock with your mouth half open in amazement. With your face bright red and starting to breathe heavily and, not realizing that you were breathing faster than usual.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Fuck… ⸺ you didn't formulate anything else, limiting yourself to staring at his huge cock with desire for him.

Leon noticed how your reaction to his semi-exposed cock filled you with a mixture of excitement and satisfaction. He knew that he had caught your attention and that there was a chance that you might be interested in taking things further.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Do you want to touch it? ⸺ he asked, pointing to his member with a slight tilt of his head as he maintained eye contact with you.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Or do you want me to show you how it works? Or maybe both? ⸺ he joked, allowing you to choose your level of participation in your private lesson. ⸺ Let me know what you want, and I'll be sure to help you.

You continued to stare at Leon's huge cock, your heart racing and your breathing becoming more and more erratic. You shivered slightly as you processed the thought of getting so close to such a large, intimidating man.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I want to touch it… ⸺ You finally managed to stutter between heavy breaths, your voice barely more than a whisper.

As soon as you spoke, your hand moved forward to wrap around the base of him, slowly giving it a gentle squeeze. You were unable to look away, despite the intense heat that was beginning to accumulate inside your panties.

Leon appreciated your willingness to take initiative in exploring his cock, allowing you to squeeze the base of him gently without protest. He knew it was important for you to feel comfortable with the situation, after all.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Alright… ⸺ he encouraged you gently, examining the movements of your hand as you slowly masturbated him, feeling every movement of your fingers on the cotton.

ㅤㅤ⸺ You can touch it all you want. Don't be afraid to ask me questions. ⸺ He added, emphasizing the importance of communication during your unique learning experience. ⸺ If you want me to show you something specific, say so, and I'll be sure to demonstrate it to you.

Feeling Leon's cock warm up and enlarge under your touch, your heart raced even faster and your breathing became even more labored. You felt overwhelmed by feelings of excitement and desire, but you tried to stay calm and focus on learning as much as possible from this unique opportunity.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Can I… suck it?… ⸺ you asked quietly, looking hopefully and nervously at Leon.

Your free hand found its way into your panties, and you began to finger yourself through the damp fabric, trying to relieve some of the intense arousal that was building between your legs.

Leon smiled approvingly upon hearing your request and nodded, appreciating your curiosity and desire to learn. He pulled his boxers down even further until he took them off, revealing his fully erect cock to your eager gaze as you got down on your knees on the cold classroom floor.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Of course you can suck it. ⸺ He replied as he stood in front of you, his huge cock dangling tantalizingly just above your lips and face.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Go ahead and swallow as much of me as you can with your mouth. ⸺ He added with some hesitation in his tone, unbuttoning his black shirt to leave it on his desk. ⸺ Remember, don't hesitate to tell me if it seems too much to you.

Your eyes lit up with excitement when you saw Leon's huge cock hanging directly over your face, you couldn't believe that you were finally going to be able to experience having something so big down your throat firsthand. Your mouth watered, and your panties became even more bathed in your exciting fluids when you hugged his throbbing trunk with your hand.

Your lips surrounded him tightly, not wanting to wait any longer, completely enveloping him with your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the length of it eagerly, your cheeks hollowing as you suck on it harder and harder by the minute. Sucking and highlighting each of his swollen veins with your tongue.

The sound of your eager slurps filled the class as you did your best to please him with every ounce of passion and energy you could muster.

Leon moaned deeply as he felt your warm mouth completely envelop him, your enthusiastic sips and sucks full of passion and dedication towards his cock, causing his entire body to be traveled non-stop by rays charged with incessant pleasure. He could already tell that you had a natural talent for fellatio, and he couldn't help but admire your enthusiasm and dedication to pleasing him.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Mmm… ⸺ he moaned softly. ⸺ I'm loving it… ⸺ his voice was full of desire as he recognized your efforts and encouraged you to continue blowing him.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Go slower, ⸺ he added after a moment, ⸺ pay special attention to the sensitive head… It's just the way I like it.

You continued to suck his cock, noticing that the more you did it, the more sensitive and receptive he seemed to become. Hardening to the limit within your heat and drool.

You couldn't stop salivating, and your panties got even wetter when you realized. You loved how its flavor filled your entire mouth and its thickness and warmth enveloped your oral cavity.

You paid special attention to his sensitive glans, as he requested, running your tongue over the smooth surface of it and lovingly teasing it by absorbing it at will in the same manner. You loved how Leon's hips began to move slightly with every little treat or affectionate kiss you gave his cock.

Your free hand reached down to feel his balls firmly, giving them a gentle squeeze without stopping your passionate pumps.

Leon's hips involuntarily moved forward as he felt your talented tongue tease his sensitive, plump head, making his cock throb in anticipation. Letting out a grunt of pleasure as he gripped the edge of the desk for support, knowing he wouldn't last much longer before releasing his load into your waiting mouth.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Fuck… ⸺ he murmured between gasps. ⸺ You're doing so well… Keep it up… ⸺ he closed his eyes and focused on the sensations that ran through his body, savoring every second of your intimate approach.

You were delighted to hear Leon's praise for your oral skills, and that's true, it only served to stimulate you even more. You loved the way he sounded when he spoke to you in such a desperate way, and you knew you were doing it right.

You began to play with his balls, feeling both gently as you held on to the length of it, moving up and down along it. You could feel his copious precum oozing from the head of his cock, you knew he was about to cum.

You let go of both of your hands to unbutton your tight college uniform shirt, taking it off and tossing it aside so you were left in your bra without stopping your enthusiastic sucking.

As Leon's orgasm approached, he let out a deep groan and thrust his hips forward once more, sinking his cock deep into your warm, welcoming throat. He knew he was close to climax and couldn't wait any longer to release his pent-up load into your hungry mouth.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Fuck… ⸺ he moaned loudly, releasing a torrent of hot semen into your waiting mouth and bathing your throat with his thick liquid.

You swallowed instinctively, taking it all in without hesitation and holding back your light tears because of how good it felt to have him in your mouth, showing how dedicated you were to satisfy him.

Your eyes were wide with joy as you felt Leon's cock burst with hot cum, filling your mouth and throat to the brim. You swallowed eagerly, taking in every drop of his essence willingly. The feeling of the warmth and fullness of him against your tongue and palate sent shivers of pleasure down your spine.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Such a good girl… You know how to take care of me.

You separated from him briefly as you finished sucking on his reddened glans and kissing him tenderly, taking just enough time to catch your breath and speak to him.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I'm glad I can take care of you like this, Leon…

His eyes fixed on your smiling face as he spoke to you, your eyes shining against the dim light of the class. He admired the dedication and enthusiasm you showed in serving him and knew that you truly understood what he needed to feel satisfied.

ㅤㅤ⸺ You are amazing. ⸺ He praised you brusquely. ⸺ I can't believe that someone so young and inexperienced can be so good at this. ⸺ His voice was rough with desire and satisfaction, and he delighted in knowing that you had pleasured him so deeply, despite being relatively new to sex and oral techniques.

You smiled at his compliment, your expression shining with happiness and excitement. You loved hearing how impressed he was by your language skills, and you knew he was about to show you how much he appreciated your efforts.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Now that I've come in your mouth… it's time for me to return the favor.

As he spoke, you looked at him gratefully and nodded your head enthusiastically, understanding that it was now your turn to receive his attention. Your hands rested on your thighs, supporting you firmly to stand up, as you hoped he would prepare.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Sounds good… ⸺ you muttered softly.

Leon sat on his desk, his cock semi-hard and still wet from the drool he took from your expert mouth.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Let's see how far you're willing to go with this. ⸺ He growled menacingly. ⸺ I want you to ride my cock until I cum again.

Your heart raced with anticipation as Leon stood on the desk and addressed you, telling you that it was now your turn to take control of the situation. You felt a wave of confidence and excitement run through your body, fueling your desire to please him and satisfy his desires.

You quickly lowered your pleated skirt to leave it next to your shirt, then grabbed both folds of your soaked panties and slid them off your legs to do the same.

Without hesitation, you approached him when you finished, hoisting one of your white heels onto his desk and lining up your crotch with his already stiff cock, pointing it at the entrance to your drooling pussy.

You raised one of your hands to your lips to spit on it and rub your drool all over its length again. Placing one of your hands on his firm chest for support and grabbing his cock as you finished, admiring his intense blue eyes as you slowly began to lower yourself onto him and let out a soft moan of pleasure as you entered his thick head inside you.

Leon took in your beautiful face as you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, taking his time to savor the moment and enjoy the view of your delicate body enveloping his hard flesh as he lowered his gaze, sighing pleasantly. He could feel every inch of your moisture covering him completely, and he knew that this was going to be an unforgettable experience for both.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Fuck… You're so tight and hot… You feel amazing. ⸺ He gasped.

When your lips finally attached themselves to the skin of his pelvis, Leon let out a moan of approval and admiration. Grasping one side of your hips firmly to guide your subtlees movements as you began to ride him.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Ride me as hard as you want. ⸺ He said with a harsh voice.

You smiled triumphantly as you felt his thick cock slide in and out of your hungry pussy, filling you. The sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before, and you knew he would appreciate your ability to penetrate you deep.

You began to move rhythmically on top of him, using your hips to drive him deeper into your wetness each time you rode his length. Your tits bounced with each impact, teasing him with their fullness and inviting him to grab onto them if he wanted.

Your eyes remained fixed on his face throughout the entire process, seeking reassurance that he was enjoying every second of your coital intimacy. It didn't take long for the sound of skin slapping against the skin to fill the class, accompanied by heavy breathing and the occasional harsh moan from either of you.

Leon watched your attractive body and face as you continued to move on top of him, fucking his cock and burying it deep inside your tight pussy with each powerful stroke. He could feel every contraction of your inner walls sucking him hard, and he was no doubt enjoying the pleasure that being ridden by you brought him.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Damn… Ride me like that. ⸺ He growled. ⸺ I love watching you fuck my cock like this.

His free hand reached up to unclasp your bra and pull it off to the floor, grabbing one of your soft tits firmly, squeezing it, and bringing it to his lips. With a hungry moan, he took one to his mouth and sucked it hungrily as he continued to admire your sensual complexion on top of him.

ㅤㅤ⸺ You're driving me crazy with need. ⸺ He moaned against your tit, swirling your nipple with his tongue.

Your heart raced with excitement as you continued riding his huge cock with unbridled enthusiasm, your body undulating in rhythm with the swaying of his hips beneath you. You reveled in the feeling of being in complete control of the situation, knowing that you were giving him exactly what he wanted.

He watched your gestures again, looking for any sign of satisfaction or dissatisfaction, and found immense pleasure in seeing the pleasure etched into your features as you bounced wildly on him. The combination of your wet pussy surrounding him tightly and your tits tantalizingly close to his mouth created an atmosphere of pure desire that was impossible to resist.

Leon's eyes rolled back in pleasure, the softness, and warmth of your breasts inviting him to take one in his mouth and suck on it hungrily. He couldn't resist the urge any longer, and he pulled away from your breast long enough to capture it with his mouth and suck it with his tongue.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Mmm… I love your tits. ⸺ He sighed. ⸺ They are so fucking perfect…

He leaned down and sucked on your other breast, firmly groping the remaining one as he continued to admire the view you gave him and prompting you to caress his straight brown hair to press him closer to you. His cock throbbed painfully inside your pussy with each crash, driving him closer and closer to release and crushing that pain with continued joy.

Your eyes widened in delight as you watched Leon pull away from your tit long enough to focus his attention on the other, his fingers massaging your flesh roughly as his tongue swirled around your hard nipple. You could feel the mix of pain and pleasure course through your body, intensifying both your arousal and his.

With renewed determination, you increased the speed and force of your thrusts, driving him deeper into your pussy with each powerful movement.

As the anticipation grew, you leaned forward slightly, offering him better access to your breasts while maintaining eye contact throughout the exchange.

Leon's eyes flashed with lust as he watched you offer him even more, presenting him with your tits for even more indulgence. He eagerly accepted the invitation, alternating between biting and sucking on your sensitive skin.

His cock twitched with desire as he felt how he remained to sink into your pussy, and as he imagined filling your womb with his hot semen. The thought sent a wave of pure ecstasy through his veins, growling low in his throat.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ I want you to kiss me Leon… ⸺ you asked as you felt a hunger grow on his lips.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I'll give you all the kisses you want, sweetheart…

Your eyes sparkled with excitement as his lips closed over yours, his hot mouth enveloping you in a passionate embrace. Your pussy clenched involuntarily at the sensation, sending a wave of exuberant pleasure throughout your body.

You quickened the pace even more as your tongues romped and invaded your cavities, his hips bucking wildly as you rode him harder. The friction between your bodies was irresistible, refusing to rest until Leon released every last drop of cum inside your pussy.

Leon's senses burned with lust as he felt the juices of your pretty pussy dripping all over his cock and pelvis, accumulating on the floor under your feet and staining it, indicating that you were approaching climax. He knew he only had a few moments left to satisfy you completely before you came from the way you sucked him into your meaty walls.

His hips bucked wildly to push himself deeper into your little pussy, his balls tightening as they collided against your buttocks.

With one last burst of energy, he pulled out of you long enough to line himself at your stretched hole and plunge back into your depths, pushing himself as far as he could go as he lowered your hips, gripping them.

Your breathing became irregular when you felt Leon leave your pussy, leaving a trail of precum that glistened on your swollen lips and highlighted your exciting sexual act. And when he thrust into you, you cried out in pleasure, feeling every inch of his length stretching you and filling your tight channel once again.

Your orgasm was building rapidly, threatening to consume you completely. You moaned with anticipation, knowing that he was preparing to fill your womb with his thick liquid.

Desperate to climax before him, you increased the intensity of your hips even more and directed your fingers to your swollen clit, his pelvis undulating wildly as you sought to squeeze every last drop of pleasure out of this intense moment together.

His cock throbbed painfully as he felt your insides tightening around him, wrapping around him tightly as you urged him to release inside you. He couldn't resist your request any longer; the need to spill into your warm walls was too great.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Damn, I'm going to cum… ⸺ he whimpered desperately.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Cum inside me Leon… ⸺ you begged.

His hips bucked fiercely as you rode him to his climax, your pussy convulsing around his thickness and your walls going to milk every last drop of his essence inside you.

You screamed in pleasure as you felt Leon's hot load filling you, using your pussy to continue pumping him hard as you revel in the feeling of him filling you.

Your orgasm built rapidly, and you desperately wanted to feel every last drop of his cum inside you. Leon grunted loudly as he emptied himself into your eager pussy, his cock throbbing and twitching erratically as he released wave after wave of sticky liquid into your eager womb. Collapsing onto the desk next to you, completely spent and satisfied.

You stood there, catching your breath for a few moments as you both basked in the afterglow of your intense session together. The smell of sex and sweat permeated the surrounding air, mixing with the lingering smell of both arousal combined and creating an intoxicating aroma.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ You know how to make me cum… ⸺ Leon finally declared, admiring you with a mix of relief and satisfaction etched into his features.

You smiled, pleased, enjoying having his cum inside you and dripping from your swollen pussy onto his cock. You were still shaking from your intense orgasm, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment for having brought him to such an enjoyable climax.

You stood up slightly to catch some of his spilled cum with one of your fingers, sucking it off before responding to his comment with a flirtatious smile.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Mmm… You were quite easy to please.

You both lay in post-coital bliss, basking in the glow of your shared experience. The sound of both of their heavy breathing filled the class, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and connection between the two.

Leon laughed weakly, amused by your response and the way you seemed so satisfied. with yourself to satisfy him. He stayed there for several minutes, recovering from your intense session, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he took in your flushed face and your slippery pussy on his pelvis.

Finally, he leaned on one of his elbows, looking at the windows with the blinds slightly drawn and the front door of the class to make sure that you were still alone before turning to you with a teasing smile.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Yeah, well... you know what they say about teachers being easy marks. ⸺ He joked, referring to the rumors surrounding relationships outside private lessons.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ But seriously though, ⸺ he added, ⸺ you know your stuff when it comes to giving head and riding my dick.

You giggled at his comment, playfully bouncing up and down on his still throbbing member to emphasize how skilled you were at pleasing him.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I guess I've gotten pretty good at this whole teacher-student thing. ⸺ You joked. ⸺ What a shame it wasn't more difficult to pass, right?…

You continued to ride him slowly as you eased his cock back into your stretched and ready pussy, using your hips to extract every last drop of his pleasure, keeping an eye on the door to make sure you weren't disturbed during your post-coital indulgence.

Leon laughed at your teasing, appreciating the way you seemed to take pride in your secret agreement and the unique dynamic it created between the two of you. He didn't complain and gripped your hips firmly, guiding your movements as you continued to ride him expertly to milk every last drop of cum from his semi-hard cock.

Despite the jocular tone of the conversation, there was an undercurrent of desire and anticipation that ran through everything, a reminder that you were still very much involved in an intense, passionate taboo adventure that went far beyond mere physical pleasure.

ㅤㅤ⸺ You're talented. ⸺ He admitted. ⸺ But you're going to need more than just this to pass. ⸺ He finished saying, slapping both of your buttocks with his hands and then squeezing them tightly and separating them, driving you over him.

You moaned in ecstasy at the slap, feeling his hands grip your buttocks afterward, urging you forward in your mutual act of self-indulgence. Your body shook with pleasure as you rode him faster and harder, straining to extract every last drop of his cum before finally collapsing onto his throbbing member once more.

You looked at him with a mix of satisfaction and lust in your eyes.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Oh yeah? Well, I plan on proving just how dedicated I am to my studies.

As you continued to revel in the aftermath of your fucking, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of excitement and anticipation building within you, excited by the idea of ​​taking things further and exploring new depths of your forbidden 'relationship' together.

Leon watched you collapse onto his cock with a mix of satisfaction and arousal, your pussy clenching around him as you rode him hard. He could feel the last remnants of his cum oozing from the base of his throbbing member as you bounced eagerly on top of him.

Hearing your declaration that you planned to continue pushing boundaries and studying your taboo relationship only served to ignite Leon's desire even more, fueling the fire of libido and temptation that burned between the two of you.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I look forward to seeing how far you're willing to go. ⸺ He said with a smile. ⸺ But, you are still my student. There are limits to how far we can take this in our 'private meetings'.

You nodded, understanding the parameters of your secret relationship and the need to maintain some level of restraint despite the intensity of his emotions and desires.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Yes, I know my place, but I want to learn how to please you and satisfy your needs, Leon Kennedy…

You leaned in to plant a tender kiss on his lips before resuming your pelvic thrusts, riding him faster now that you had both had a chance to catch your breath and recharge his arousal.

ㅤㅤ⸺ And speaking of needs… ⸺ you added teasingly. ⸺ I think it's time for you to cum again. Why don't you help me a little?

Leon laughed at your request, finding your determination and dedication to your illicit agreement as enticing as it was endearing. He admired the way you knew how to push his buttons and get exactly what you wanted from him.

As you rode him faster and faster, Leon's cock twitched involuntarily, signaling his new impending climax. With deep moans from both of them obscuring your ears.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Shit… ⸺ he whispered between gasps for air. ⸺ You know how to handle yourself.

He raised one of his hands and gently caressed your hair without letting go of your ass with the other, spanking you again and bringing you closer so that your bodies were pressed together.

You felt his cock throb inside you, causing you to moan loudly and arch your back, enjoying the sensation that ran through your entire body due to the intense overstimulation of both of you. You could barely contain your excitement as you felt him filling you more and more with each passing second as he became completely hard again.

When he pulled your hair gently and moaned your name, you knew you were approaching another peak of pleasure for both of you. You increased your pace even more, sinking deeper into his placid, throbbing cock as you enjoyed the intense intimacy of the moment.

As you approached your climax, Leon grunted, feeling his balls contract and build up his thick load. The sound of your name spoken across his lips in passionate ecstasy only fueled his arousal, sending waves of pleasure through his body and making his cock throb even more intensely.

He guided your movements as you rode him harder and faster than ever. With each powerful contraction, Leon could feel his orgasm peaking, knowing that they were experiencing something truly special together.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ I'm going to fucking cum again… ⸺ he warned you, anxious and desperate. ⸺ Are you ready?

When he warned you that he was about to release, you increased the pace even more, sinking him into you with abandon and urgency. You could hear his panting voice echoing through the empty classroom, a primal mix of pleasure and need that seemed to amplify the intensity of the experience.

You looked at his eager face in anticipation, your eyes burning with passion and desire. You knew you were reaching the top, and you couldn't wait to feel all of his cum filling you once again.

His ready release poured into your aching pussy. You clenched your inner muscles all around his rigid cock, sucking it in tightly as you egged him on with a combination of words and sensual impulses.

Leon let out a low growl as he felt your tight pussy choke him like a vice, signaling that you were ready for him to unleash his final load. He gripped the side of your hips tightly and used his free hand to eagerly stimulate your clit, pushing you over the edge and into a state of fervent ecstasy.

With a throaty moan of pure pleasure, Leon released one last burst of cum deep within your trembling walls, filling you as you both experienced the most intense moments of your illicit approach yet. With the last spurts of cum shooting into your hungry pussy, he collapsed onto the desk, panting heavily and enjoying the aftermath of your mutual pleasure.

You moaned in pleasure as you felt Leon's final load filling you, causing a wave of euphoria to travel through every inch of your body. Your orgasmic screams echoed throughout the empty classroom, leaving no doubt about how much delight you had been sharing.

As he collapsed onto the desk, you continued to ride him with reckless abandon, milking his big throbbing cock for all it was worth until the last drop of cum had been released from his swollen sacs. Finally, coming down from your high, slowing your movements and sliding off his cock with a satisfied sigh and a soft 'pop' as you pulled it out of your stretched hole.

Still breathing hard, you looked back at Leon, your eyes still shining with lust and desire.

His breathing was irregular and uneven, his chest heaving as he tried to recover from the intensity of his last orgasm. Watching you finish, admiring the sight of your flushed face and your panting breath as you straddled his member, your arousal visible with the way your nipples hardened and the wetness between your thighs glistening in the light dim classroom.

You ran a hand through his sticky cum, feeling the heat radiating from his still throbbing cock as you stroked it gently.

ㅤㅤ⸺ That was something else… I don't think I've ever cummed so much before.

Slowly, you lowered yourself off his cock, allowing traces of his cum to drip from your entrance and run across the rosy lips of your pussy before finally pulling away from him completely.

Leon watched as you slid off his throbbing member, stopping his gaze at the burning sight of your slick lips and the beads of cum oozing out between them, staining your white stockings.

Your voice was breathy and seductive as you spoke.

ㅤㅤ⸺ It was amazing… You know how to make a girl feel good.

You bit your lip playfully, looking at him with a mix of desire and vulnerability.

ㅤㅤ⸺ And I think you might have broken some kind of record for the amount of semen you produced. ⸺ You said with a funny smile on your lips.

He chuckled at your comment about breaking records.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Well, I suppose I have my moments. ⸺ He admitted. ⸺ But honestly, being inside you felt so damn good that it was almost impossible not to cum like crazy.

He ran a few fingers through the stickiness of his cock and looked at you with a mix of amusement and lust in his eyes.

ㅤㅤ⸺ You know how to drive me horny. I hope you enjoyed it too.

You smiled widely at Leon's admission, your eyes shining with excitement and satisfaction. Take a moment to catch your breath before speaking again.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Hmm… I did. Being filled with your cum and feeling your cock inside me was… indescribable.

You walked to where you left your clothes lying on the floor and began to lift your skirt and fasten your bra in a somewhat absent-minded manner, still thinking about the intensity of the sensations you had shared.

ㅤㅤ⸺ And yes, you broke some kind of record or something. I'm pretty sure there was enough cum to flood this entire classroom. ⸺ You clarified playfully with mockery, looking at Leon over your shoulder as you adjusted your white socks.

Leon chuckled at your comment, running a hand through his messy hair and watching you gather the rest of your clothes to get dressed, remembering the way your tight pussy had sucked out every last drop of his essence. He could still feel the warmth and fullness running through his balls and cock, being a pleasant reminder of how much pleasure you had just experienced together.

His cock twitched slightly at the thought of having been inside your tight pussy just moments ago, but he forced himself to focus on getting dressed as well.

He gathered his discarded clothes and began putting them on, trying not to think too much about how much he wanted to bury himself inside your delicious pussy again. He put on his black jeans and tight black shirt, doing his best to hide the evidence of your recent activities.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Yeah, well… maybe next time I'll try to break another one. ⸺ He joked. ⸺ Maybe I'll give you so much semen that you spill it everywhere.

You finished dressing and turned to look at Leon as you finished buttoning your skirt, your tits still visible from not having fully buttoned your tight white shirt.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I wouldn't mind that at all. ⸺ You said with a malicious smile. ⸺ Being covered in your hot cum sounds like a fantasy come true.

You walked over to where he was and leaned next to him against the desk, close enough that your bodies were almost touching. With your skin still warm and sensitive from being filled with his thick cum, you couldn't help but feel aroused again just thinking about it.

ㅤㅤ⸺ So… Are we going to pretend that nothing happened? ⸺ you asked quietly. ⸺ Or should I expect you to try to fuck me again right here against your desk?

Leon laughed at your questions, your recent fuck had left you as hungry for more as he was. He reached out and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face, feeling a surge of desire in his gut at the thought of being able to fill you again soon.

ㅤㅤ⸺ I don't think I could resist fucking you right here if you're asking. ⸺ He admitted. ⸺ But I figured we should at least try to act like we weren't going to fuck right after class.

He pressed himself against you, resting his hands on your hips and looking deeply into your eyes as he spoke.

ㅤㅤ⸺ However, if you want me to take you to my apartment with me, I won't hesitate for a damn second.

You laughed at his bold offer, your heart pounding with excitement. The idea of ​​your perfect, exemplary teacher taking you to his apartment was both exciting and terrifying, but deep down you trusted him completely and would go wherever he took you.

You smiled excitedly, considering whether you should accept his invitation.

ㅤㅤ⸺ Alright then, Leon. I guess I'll be officially yours.

As you spoke, you placed a hand on top of his crotch, caressing his hardening member through his jeans and giving him a promising smile.

ㅤㅤ⸺ You can fuck me wherever you want. ⸺ You clarified as you slowly approached his lips and whispered sensually. ⸺ Your apartment, in public… I don't give a shit.

You finished speaking by sticking to his mouth, rejoicing your tongues with both warm saliva mixed, and caressing the package on his clothes lovingly. Playing against his lips as you press them against yours and drowning your short breaths of pure desire.

His cock twitched under your touch and bold words, feeling horny and needy as it throbbed against your hand. He could barely contain his desire to unload another load of hot cum inside your tight pussy, but he knew he had to maintain some semblance of control if he didn't want to get caught red-handed with his student.

ㅤ ㅤ ⸺ Well then, ⸺ he said with a smile, ⸺ let's go. I don't want to make you wait any longer.

He slid his hands down your lower back and began to guide you towards the door, putting aside any lingering doubts about what might happen once you arrived at his quarters. He knew he would be unable to resist taking advantage of your vulnerable state once you were alone.

ㅤ

note. you are free to ask/request anything you want! my dms are open and you can submit your request in my bio, thank you! likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! xoxo ♡

[brienneoftarth1989]

“Please, if you can, make one where Larissa doesn’t know, but the reader is too weak to drink, and when she gets drunk, touch Larissa and she takes responsibility for inviting the reader for a few glasses of wine, and just let her passion secret to touch her however you want. Larissa has a penis” - G4bE train wreck on A03

I Need Your Touch NSFW

Larissa Weems x fem reader

Summary: you are such a lightweight when it comes to drinking but you couldn’t turn the opportunity down when Larissa invites you to her office for a couple of glasses of wine. The drinks go straight to your head and your touchy side comes out.

Warnings: shifted cock, cunnilingus, teasing, fingering, soft, mentions of alcohol, smut

Request open

———————————

You have been working at Nevermore Academy for a little under a year now. As an outcast yourself you never thought you would be able to find a teaching job where you could express your true identity. That was until you found Nevermore. You immediately checked to see if there were any vacancies and low and behold there was.

You applied for one of the jobs that you would be suitable for and a few weeks later you were working at the new school. You had a very close relationship with your students and your colleagues but there was one person you just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. The Principal herself just wouldn’t leave your mind.

You also believed that Larissa had also caught on to how you felt about her. At first you would be able to gaze and admire her from a distance and not get caught but now everytime you even look in her direction she always seems to know you're watching. You always get caught.

Then the flirting started. As your friendship grew closer and stronger the level of flirting increased. At first it started out with the occasional long glances and the odd lingering touch when your hands accidentally touched. But now it’s the constant lip biting when you are around each other as well as the lingering touches becoming more frequent as well as lasting longer than is appropriate for ‘friends’.

Although this behaviour continued to this very day neither of you have done anything about it. You both seem to be keeping things entirely professional, scared that you both might cross each other's boundaries. That was until one fateful day.

The school day had officially ended and you were sitting in your classroom checking your emails and grading some work that you needed to give back to your students tomorrow in class. You had a couple of emails from students which you responded to first. Most of them just ask questions about the assignments you had set for them. You always prioritise your students as you want them to do well.

You then check the emails from your colleagues. One of them was emailing over the plans for an upcoming school outing and the other was talking about a change in the timetable and they just wanted to clarify with you that it was right. You then refresh your emails to see no new ones come through. Happy with the lack of new emails you closed your laptop and started grading your students' work.

After about 45 minutes of marking their work you heard your phone bing. You grabbed your phone and had a quick glance at the notification. It was from gmail informing you of a new notification. You sighed as you placed your phone back on your desk and opened your laptop back up.

You open your emails to see the new email had in fact come from Larissa. You face lit up immediately and you were quick to open the email to see what it said.

Evening y/n,

Hope all is going well. I have a spare evening tonight and a couple bottles of wine that I won’t finish myself. So I was wondering if you would like to join me?

Don’t feel obligated to come but if you would like to come see me come meet me in my office at 20:00 this evening. I hope to see you soon.

Larissa x

All you could do was smile to yourself. Thee Larissa Weems has invited you to her office this evening for a glass or twice of wine. This was the first time Larissa had invited you to her office after hours so you didn’t really know what to expect. Either way though you were excited and looking forward to the evening ahead of you.

You closed your laptop and finished marking the work that you were currently working on. You placed the remainder of the students' work in the top drawer of the desk before grabbing your laptop and locking up your classroom for the evening.

You then made your way to your room to get ready for the evening ahead of you. It was currently 18:00 which meant you had two hours to get yourself sorted and ready before heading to see Larissa. What were you even supposed to wear? You didn’t even know if this was something friendly or something more.

You definitely didn’t want to overdress but at the same time you didn’t want to underdress. This was definitely going to be a long evening especially if you were reading this all wrong. You decided to have a quick shower which meant you had time to think about what you wanted to wear.

Before you jumped in the shower you played one of your spotify playlists on shuffle. The first song that came on was Long Live. The songs continued to shuffle as you washed your hair and did your skin care routine. Once out of the shower you went to go and dry your hair. You styled it so it was half up and half down letting the waves of your hair really show. Once your hair was done you did some light makeup before making your way to your wardrobe to choose an outfit.

After having a look at the range of clothes in the wardrobe and trying a few on you finally decided to go with a white button up tank top, some black ripped skinny jeans and a dark green raglan open front cardigan. You then paired the outfit a black round buckle belt. You then had a quick glance in the mirror to confirm you were happy with your final choice.

The only thing you could do was smile in the mirror. You loved it and you knew that Larissa definitely was going to love your outfit. You just hope that you weren’t reading this all wrong. You glanced over at the clock and it was now 19:30. Alright you had half an hour to kill so you chilled on your phone scrolling through social media.

The time went by relatively quickly and before you knew it was 19:55. You grabbed your phone and had one final glance in the mirror making sure you still looked good. You locked the door to your room before making your way to Larissa’s office. It didn’t take long to feel the butterflies start to build up inside of you.

It wasn’t long before you were standing outside the doors to Larissa’s office. You knocked on the large oak doors and waited for Larissa to allow you into her space. “Come in y/n” you heard Larissa speak from the otherside of the door. You opened the door and walked into her glorious office.

The sight in front of you was absolutely breathtaking. Larissa sat on her fabric sofa in front of the fireplace with two glasses and two bottles of wine. Larissa looked over at you and all she could do was smile at you. “Come sit y/n, these bottles of wine aren’t going to drink themselves” she giggled slightly.

You walked over to Larissa and sat down on the sofa leaving a respectable amount of space between the two of you. She poured you both a drink before leaning back into her sofa. “So how have you been today?” she asked you.

You had a sip of your drink before answering her question. “I’ve had a relatively good day. My students got on with their work, all their assignments were handed in on time for once, I got a lot of my marking done and now I’m sitting here with you so I can quite easily say I've had a great day. How has your day been though?” you asked as you had another sip of wine.

“My day has been quite stressful trying to organise the upcoming school outings but I’m definitely glad you decided to join me for a glass of wine tonight. It will definitely keep my mind distracted from this work load” she laughed slightly.

“Haha I definitely know that feeling and I'm definitely glad you invited me to your office for a glass of wine. It’s nice to be able to hang out after work and not have it be work related” you said to Larissa as you glanced over to her.

The night continued on and one glass turned into another which turned into another. This was such a bad idea yet you were having such a great time. It wasn’t very often that you drank alcohol so when you did it normally went straight to your head. You also learnt that when you did get drunk you had a habit of getting very touchy with the person you were with.

You had no ill intentions, it's just that physical touch is your love language and it was your way of expressing that and there was definitely a very high chance of that happening tonight considering you were drunk and with Larissa who you had an extreme crush on. As the evening went on you found yourself getting closer and closer to Larissa.

The flirting was clear as day now and Larissa could tell that the alcohol had gone straight to your head. Did she really care? No but that was because she was also tipsy. The difference between the two of you was that Larissa could handle her drinks a lot better which meant she had a clearer head than you did.

As you had somehow made your way next to Larissa you decided to test the waters and rest your head on her shoulder. All Larissa could do was giggle at your boldness. She shuffled slightly before wrapping her arm around your body letting you huddle into her body. You sighed knowing that Larissa was allowing you to do this.

You decided to test the waters further as you let your hand travel down to hers tracing circles over the top of her hand. While you did this you turned your head slightly so you were to leave little kisses over her shoulder. You ever so slowly made your way further up her arm so you were leaving kisses on her neck.

Larissa adjusted her neck ever so slightly allowing you more room to continue what you were doing. As you continued to kiss her neck you let your hand move from her hand so it was now resting on one of her breasts. You started to massage her breast as you started to leave hickies on Larissa’s neck.

Larissa had not said anything. She hadn’t told you to stop and you took it all as a good sign. As you continued to touch the woman in front of you Larissa started to let out small whimpers due to the pleasure you were giving her. You were enjoying every moment of this and decided to test the water further. You let your hand slowly travel down her body so it was now resting just above her waist.

You were about to let your hand travel down further so you could lift up her dress slightly but she grabbed your hand leaving you frozen in place. Did she not want this? Have you done something wrong? Even though you were still very much drunk you could start to feel your mind start to sober up a little.

You looked up to see what was going on. You were half expecting Larissa to be looking down at you with disgust but she was giving you this care filled look instead. “What’s the matter?” you asked Larissa. “Nothing darling. Nothing at all but your drunk darling. I want this to happen trust me I do but we should both be in sober minds. I would hate for this to happen and then you regret it the next morning.

All you could let out a small whimper. You wanted Larissa so desperately. You wanted to ravish her and make her feel things that only you could provide her but instead she wanted to wait. You understood why but in the moment you didn’t really care, you just wanted her.

“I tell you what, how about we spend the night together, but just sleeping and maybe cuddling. If you still feel the same way tomorrow then we will do something about it. How does that sound?” she said to you. All you could do was sigh before giving her a response. “That sounds like a plan” you smiled before giving her a light peck on the lips.

Larissa responded to your kiss immediately. It didn’t take long before you ended up in her lap having a full on make out session. The kiss was passionate and you could spend the whole evening in her embrace. You were hoping that it would lead onto something more but it didn’t. Just as you were gonna let your hands wander her body she stopped you. “Come on you, let's get you to bed” she said, scooping you up and bringing you to her bedroom.

Larissa stripped you of your clothing leaving you in your undergarments before then putting one of her t-shirts on you. It was more like a dress on you but you were too drunk to really notice. Larissa got you to lay down in bed before putting the duvet over the both of you. As soon as your head hit the pillow you were out for the count. Nothing was going to wake you until morning.

Larissa laid in bed next to you just watching you sleep. How she wanted to spend the night properly with you it just wasn’t something she was able to do especially as you were both intoxicated. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you woke up the next morning regretting it all. It wasn’t long before Larissa fell asleep next to you holding you in a tight hug which caused you to unconsciously smile.

The next morning came round quicker than you both could imagine. You were the first to awake due to being blinded by the sunlight that was coming through the window. You groaned slightly not enjoying being woken up by this awful light. You turned over to get away from the sun to come face to face with a sleeping Larissa.

She was beautiful. She had no makeup on and her beautiful blonde hair was cascading down covering part of her face. All you could do was smile at the beautiful sight in front of you remembering everything that happened last night. You may get drunk quite quickly but 9 times out of 10 you always seemed to remember the night before.

You were definitely glad that you didn’t do anything last night just in case. You think it was more for Larissa’s peace of mind rather than anything else but now all you really wanted to do was show her the pleasure she was missing out on last night. You slowly leaned closer to her stroking the hair that was covering her face out of her way and tucking it behind her ear.

Your delicate touch caused the woman in front of you to start to stir in her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open causing a smile to be plastered on her face when she saw you. “Morning darling” she whispered to you. “Morning” you smirked back at her just admiring the sight in front of you. “What are you smirking at? Do you even remember anything from last night? You had a lot to drink darling and you were pretty drunk” she said sitting up slightly.

“Oh I remember everything and I definitely remember you saying we would do something about this if I still remembered. So if it’s alright with you I would love to show you what you were missing out on last night” you said smirking as you lifted Larissa t-shirt over your head and chucking onto the floor.

Larissa moaned at the sight of you before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you body so you were both lying against each other. Larissa gently cupped your face before bringing you into a gentle kiss. The kiss was just as passionate as the night before. You also cupped Larissa’s face as your lips moved in sync. It was like they were meant to be together like a piece missing from a jigsaw puzzle.

The longer the two of you kissed the more desperate you both became for one another and there were too many pieces of clothing that were separating the two of you. You let your hands travel down her body grabbing the hem of her silk pyjama top before lifting it over her head.

You separated for a brief moment as the fabric stopped you both from kissing but it didn’t take long for your lips to find each other. You moaned into the kiss as you let you handle travel down her bare chest. As you massaged her breasts her hands travelled around your body lifting her shirt off your body before then unclasping your bra.

This whole time the only time the two of you stopped kissing was to breathe but just like drugs the two of you were addicted to one another and you never wanted to come down from this high. You pulled away from the kiss before resting your forehead on hers before gazing into her eyes. “Why did you stop?” she panted.

“Because there are so many other places I want to kiss other than your lips” you said smirking at the woman in front of you. You pulled back ever so slightly moving Larissa’s hair out of the way of her neck before leaving a couple of open mouth kisses on her neck before letting you tongue run the length of her neck from her collarbone to her jawline.

Larissa moaned at this action before adjusting her neck further to allow you to do whatever you pleased. You licked around her jawline before kissing her chin before gazing into her eyes and giving her another small kiss on her lips. Larissa was desperate to return the favour as she pushed you back ever so slightly so she could then repeat what you did to her on yourself.

As she did this she massaged your breasts which caused you to moan and whimper ever so slightly at her touch. Larissa left plenty of open mouth kisses in the crook of your neck as she continued to worship your body with her hands. Instinctively you were doing everything in your power to bring her as close to you as possible even though that was becoming near enough impossible.

You smiled at one another as Larissa worshipped your body. You decided that you have had enough in this position so you flipped the two of you around. You quickly removed your panties before sitting back down on the bed before having Larissa straddle your lap. You let your hands travel down her back before cupping at her arse and squeezing the hell out of it. This caused her to buck her hips and grind down into you which you definitely weren’t complaining about.

You couldn’t take it much longer with Larissa kissing your neck and having her grind down into your body. You needed to feel her, you needed to taste her, you just needed everything about her. You moved Larissa so she was now laying next to you allowing yourself to lay next to her so you were laying on your side. You nuzzled into the crook of her next once more as you let your hand travel down her body. Your hand slowly made its way down her torso over the patch of blonde curls and right to her hard throbbing clit.

You lazily drew circles over her throbbing clit watching her squirm under your touch. You continued to torture her clit before slowly rubbing the tip of your finger over her entrance slowly pushing a single digit in. Larissa gasped as you entered her. “Fuck y/n, please fuck me” she moaned out.

You complied with the tall beauty as you slowly started to pump your finger in and out of her. As you did this you rested your head on her chest and slowly started to tease her nipples with your tongue. She was a moaning mess and you could tell she was getting close. You could feel her walls clenching around your fingers.

You looked up at Larissa. “Cum for me baby, cum all over my fingers, I want to be able to lick them clean for you”. Your words sent Larissa into overdrive causing her to immediately cum all over your fingers. You let her ride out her orgasm before slowly pulling your fingers from her. You placed your fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean. All Larissa could do was look at you as she came down from her high.

“Why don’t I get my strap? I would love for you to dominate me” you said to Larissa as you crawled up her body. As you sat down on her lap you felt something hard poking at you. You looked down to see a girthy 8 inch cock attached to the woman in front of you. “Oh I don’t need a strap. One advantage of being a shift shifter darling” she smirked as she lined her cock up with your aching cunt slowly pushing herself inside of you.

You gasped as she pushed herself fully inside. “Fuck Larissa your so big. Let me adjust to you” you moaned as you huddled into her neck. After a minute of letting your body adjust, Larissa ever so slowly started to thrust up into your aching core. This felt amazing and you never wanted it to stop. “Faster Larissa!” you moaned into her ear.

Larissa immediately increased her pace as she thrusted up into you. You sat back as you rested your hands on each leg. The sight Larissa must have right now watching as her cock disappears in and out of you. You threw your head back as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Are you getting close, baby?” she asked you. All you could do was moan out a somewhat coherent yes. “So I am a baby. Let's cum together. I can feel you getting close, I can feel you clenching around my throbbing cock. Cum for me baby! Cum all over me” she started screaming.

It was Larissa’s words that sent you over the edge. You screamed her name as you came which caused Larissa to release her load deep inside of you causing you to gasp as you felt her feel you up. You both slowly road out the orgasm before coming to a stop.

Laissa slipped out of you before shifting her anatomy back. You laid down to the woman next to you. “That was amazing Larissa. I knew I wouldn't regret anything” you whispered as you cuddled up next to her. “I know darling. How about we just chill and watch films for the rest of the day. For once I don’t have any important business to attend to” she laughed ever so slightly.

So that was exactly what you did, cuddled up together watching horror films and snacking on junk food.

[pintsizemama]

Heroes & Heartbreak

Chapter 21

Summary: Javi and Steve worry about Ari after Carrillo’s funeral. Maritza is dealt with. Javier makes use of his questionable new friends, and Ari comes to a devastating decision.

Pairings: Javier Peña x OFC Ariana Morgan—DEA Agent and daughter of Pablo Escobar

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6,512

Warnings: language, grief, death, violence, angst…let me know if I missed anything, and I’ll happily add it here!

A/N: I’m back! I’m so sorry I disappeared for so long. I’ve been working on an original novel I’m planning to publish, and life got away from me. I’m hoping to wrap up season 2 this month and then move into season 3 and the final phase of this story.

I included conversations from the episode to help anyone who hasn’t seen it or hasn’t watched it in awhile. Sorry if it feels redundant if you’ve seen the show a million times like me.

As always, feel free to let me know if I need to correct the Spanish translations!

Chapter 20 Chapter 22 Series Masterlist Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

Three days.

It had been three long days since Carrillo’s funeral, and Ari hadn’t left their room. She had barely left her bed. Javi and Steve—who had returned from Bogotá the day after the funeral—had tried everything to help her, but nothing was working. Javi sat at his desk, an untouched cigarette burning between his fingers as he stared at the piece of paper Judy Moncada had given him. He hadn’t moved on the intel yet. He’d been too worried about Ari. He didn’t even know if it was still good. Maritza could be anywhere by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to go. He refused to leave the building until he knew Ari was ok. The hand not holding the cigarette clenched and unclenched unconsciously. Steve eyed him.

“What’s our play here, Javi?” Steve asked quietly. “I know she needs time, but…I’m scared for her.” Javi’s hand shook as fear overtook his body.

“She hasn’t had anything to eat or drink in days,” Javi said hoarsely. “I don’t think she’s slept more than a handful of hours.” He put the cigarette out and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt twice his age. “She’s wasting away from before my eyes, and there’s nothing I can do to help her.”

“I know,” Steve said. “I don’t know what else to do. Hell, she didn’t even respond when we told her Sandoval had called to say goodbye.” Eduardo had taken the fall for the disaster that resulted in Carrillo’s death, so Gaviria wouldn’t lose his position. Steve sat back with a loud sigh. “Do you think we need to call in a professional?”

“What? A shrink?” Javi asked. He turned to Steve.

“Maybe not a shrink, but a doctor,” Steve clarified. “At least to get some fluids and stuff in her.”

“After today, I don’t think we have any other choice,” Javi said gruffly. “She’s got to be dangerously dehydrated at this point…unless she’s gotten some water while we’ve been working, but still, it can’t be enough.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck it. I’m gonna pin her ass down and force food and water in her today. It’s either that or we admit her to the hospital.” He swallowed thickly as tears sprang to his eyes. “I’m not gonna lose her too,” he whispered.

“We’re not losing her, Javi,” Steve said sternly. He glanced over Javi’s head and his eyes widened. “Holy shit.” Javi turned to see what had caught Steve’s attention. Ari was walking towards them, showered, dressed, and looking ready for work. She sat at her desk and began rifling through her paperwork.

“Morning,” she offered cheerily. They sat in stunned silence, just staring at her. She looked up when they didn’t respond. “What?”

“You’re here,” Javi whispered in awe.

“Where else would I be?” She asked. “It’s a work day last I checked.”

“Are you ok, Ari?” Steve pressed gently.

“I’m fine,” she replied instantly.

“Ari—” Javi began.

“—I’m fine,” Ari repeated. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to move forward, focus on work.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Ari said with a nod. “Believe me, the only thing I care about right now is making sure Escobar gets what’s coming to him. So, let’s focus on that, hmm?”

“Ok,” Steve said after a pause. Javi said nothing. He just stared at her. She kept sorting through her papers, mostly ignoring them for several minutes.

“I’m alright, stop staring at me, Javier,” she said without looking up. He startled and felt his cheeks heat at being caught.

“I’m worried about you,” he said softly. She set her work down and looked up at him.

“I know,” she said with a gentle smile, “and I love you for that. But it’s ok. This is how I deal with shit. I was back to work the same week my mom died. Just let me handle my trauma my way, and you handle yours your way.” Javi swallowed audibly. It took everything in him to push back his need to protect her, his desire to fix everything.

“Alright, hermosa,” he agreed. “Let’s get this motherfucker.”

“Too bad she couldn’t stay longer,” Ari said to Steve a couple hours later. He had just finished telling her about Connie’s quick visit. She had flown back home the day after the funeral.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “But I’m glad to have gotten even the little bit of time I did.” Ari nodded in understanding. She hoped she was appearing normal on the outside, because inside she was a mess. She knew she needed another day, maybe two, to properly push all these emotions away, but she didn’t want to feel any more. She figured throwing herself back into the fray would take up enough time that she could forget everything else, but it was a slow day. And slow days meant time to think. Steve glanced at his watch.

“Shit, I’ve gotta get that info Messina requested,” Steve groaned. “She’ll be back in a couple hours, and I don’t feel like pissing her off.”

“We got nothing going on here,” Ari gestured to their now mostly empty desks. “Go take care of what you need to.” Steve nodded gratefully and took off. Ari turned to Javi. He had been staring at a small scrap of paper in his hand for almost an hour.

“What’s on your mind, Peña?” She asked. He looked up at her, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

“I’m trying to decide what to do with this,” he answered.

“Well, if you fill me in, maybe I can help you decide,” she offered. Javi looked at her for a long, silent minute. He tapped the paper agitatedly against his desk a few times and then sighed.

“It’s Maritza Rincón’s last known location,” he told her. “It’s good as of three days ago…so she’s probably still there.”

“Maritza Rincón,” Ari repeated. “The source that…”

“That double crossed us,” Javi completed, not wanting to mention Carrillo.

“What are we waiting for?” Ari asked. She stood quickly and grabbed her gun and badge. “Why didn’t you move on this immediately?” Javi gave her a look she didn’t kind understand.

“I was waiting for you, querida,” he said simply.

“Well, I’m ready,” Ari replied. “Let’s get this bitch.” Javi nodded. “We need to tell Trujillo. He’ll want to be involved.”

“I’ll grab him and meet you at the car,” Javi offered. Ari grabbed his arm to stop him before he walked away.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Ari said softly. “I appreciate it.” Javi looked down at her hand on his arm and gently took it in his own.

“I’m so happy to have you back,” he whispered. He cleared his throat and let go of her hand. “See you in a few.” He stalked off to find Trujillo. Ari looked down and noticed her hands were shaking. She clenched her fists tight and took a deep breath. Soon she would face the woman that had betrayed them. The woman responsible for Carrillo’s—she cut off her train of thought. She couldn’t think about that right now. This woman was the reason Escobar eluded them once again. Ari was tired of losing, and she wanted to make someone pay.

Javi wasted no time when they arrived. He kicked the door in and drew his gun on the unsuspecting girl. Trujillo waited by the door, and Ari followed in behind Javi.

“De pie,” (On your feet.) Javi demanded. “¡Ya!” (Now!) He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against a desk.

“You no sabía,” (I didn’t know) Maritza insisted. “Yo no sabía, lo juro. Limón me dijo mentiras.” (I didn’t know, I swear. Limón lied to me.) Javi turned her around roughly and shoved his gun in the back of his pants. “No, por favor. Me van a encontrar y me van a matar apenas puedan. ¡No! ¡No!” (No, please. When they find me, they’re going to kill me. No! No!) Javi gripped her upper arms and shook her to shut her up.

“¡Quieta!” (Stay still!) He screamed. She stopped squirming and he cuffed her. Ari stayed off to the side. She didn’t trust herself to get too close to this woman.

“Por favor,” (Please) she begged. “¿Usted cree que yo quería esto? Me usaron y me van a acabar la vida.” (Do you think I wanted this? They used me, and they’re throwing my life away.)

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby,” Javi growled sarcastically. He dragged her towards the door where Trujillo waited patiently.

“Todos ustedes son igualitos,” (You’re all the same.) she accused. “No escuchan. ¡Ninguno escucha! Y toda eso gente muriendo porque sí.” (You don’t listen. Nobody listens! And all those people dying for no reason.) Javi turned and threw a chair across the room in a rage. Ari flinched. She had never seen Javi this angry before. Trujillo watched him a moment before speaking up.

“¿Qué pasa, Peña?” (What’s up, Peña?) he asked calmly. “¿Qué hacemos con ella?” (What should we do with her?) Javi looked at Maritza. He took a deep breath. Ari could see him physically trying to calm the rage and figure out what the fuck they needed to do.

“¿Estás dispuesta a tratar de hacer las cosas bien?” (Are you willing to try to make things right?) Javi asked Maritza. Ari’s eyes snapped to him. How the hell could she make things right?

“¿Cómo?” (How?) Maritza asked. Have heaved a deep breath.

“Le pides a Limón que te encuentre en algún lugar,” (You ask Limón to meet you somewhere) Javi replied.

“¿Eso es todo?” (That’s it?) Maritza questioned warily.

“Eso es todo,” (That’s it) Javi assured her. “Nosotros haremos el resto.” (We’ll do the rest.)

“Javier,” Ari said in a low voice. “What are you doing?”

“This is the only lead we have,” Javi explained. Red hot anger boiled in her veins. He was going to let her get away with this.

“So she makes a call and all is forgiven?” Ari spat out.

“No,” Javi replied.

“Then what are we going to do with her?” Ari pushed. She glanced at Maritza. She was pretty sure the young girl did not understand English, but she wanted to make sure. “Put a bullet in her head after we follow this lead?” She watched closely, and the girl showed no reaction. She didn’t understand them.

“Ari,” Javi whispered, slightly horrified. Ari just shrugged.

“We don’t have to kill her, but she’s not just going to walk away from this,” Ari insisted.

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Javi pushed back. Ari clenched her teeth. Was he protecting her? Her stomach plunged when she remembered how Javi probably knew this woman. His former lover. He was protecting his lover. Her hand itched to grab her gun, but her years of discipline and training kept her from moving.

“This is the only move we have,” Javi said firmly. “We play this smart. We can’t let our emotions cloud our judgment right now.” Ari’s chest heaved with a half sigh, half sob. She laughed humorlessly.

“Really?” She scoffed. “You’re going to pull the ‘overly emotional female’ card on me now?” Javi’s entire face softened.

“That’s not what I meant, Ari,” he said gently. “We’re all emotional on this one.” He glanced towards Trujillo. Ari followed his gaze. Trujillo stood calmly, but she could see the fire in his eyes. Her anger deflated. They were all too close to this. Javier was keeping his head, and she couldn’t get mad at him for it. Hell, she had been the voice of reason countless times in her career.

“Fuck,” she sighed. “You’re right. Sorry.” Javi shook his head.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Ariana,” Javi said sternly. “You have every right to be pissed right now. If any of this is too much, you tell me, and I’ll handle anything you need.” He stared hard into her eyes. “I’ve got you, ok?” Ari nodded, her throat too clogged with emotion to speak. Javi uncuffed Maritza.

“Llama a tu amigo,” (Call your friend) Javi demanded. “¿Hay algún lugar cercano donde puedas conocerlo?” (Is there somewhere close you can meet him?) Maritza nodded. “Bien. Dile que se reúna contigo allí en media hora, luego te llevaremos allí y esperaremos afuera a que aparezca. Una vez que abandone el lugar, podrás irte.” (Good. Tell him to meet you there in half an hour, then we'll drive you there and wait outside for him to show. Once he leaves the location, you can go.) Maritza walked by Ari to pick up the phone. Her scent wafted by.

Lavender. Not vanilla.

This wasn’t Javi’s mystery woman after all. Ari’s brow furrowed in thought as Maritza made the call. Javi had come back with Maritza’s intel smelling of vanilla. There were only two logical possibilities; Maritza was introduced to Javi through his former lover, or…she wasn’t his former lover, and Javi had been in the middle of a tryst when Maritza contacted him with the intel. Bile rose at that thought. Javi had committed to her. He had promised to try…shit, he promised to try. Trying implied you thought you could fail. Fuck. She needed to get Maritza alone for a moment. She had to know how she found Javier.

“Está hecho,” (It’s done) Maritza told them after hanging up. “Se reunirá conmigo en treinta minutos en el café de la calle.” (He's meeting me in thirty minutes at the cafe down the street.)

“Bueno,” (Good) Javi said with a nod. “Sube al coche y muéstranos el camino.” (Get in the car and show us the way.) He gestured out the door. Ari followed behind the three of them. Trujillo got into the drivers seat. Javi put Maritza in the back and turned to Ari.

“You ok in the back?” He asked quietly. “Or do you want me to sit with her?”

“I’m good,” Ari answered immediately, relieved she’d be close enough to talk to the girl. Javi nodded and got into the passenger seat. Ari quickly climbed in and shut the door. Maritza gave them directions and sat back quietly. Javi and Trujillo were discussing the plan—in English—so Ari took the opportunity.

“¿Cómo conociste a la agente Peña?” (How did you meet Agent Peña?) she asked quietly. Maritza looked at her for a moment. Ari could see the girl trying to decide how to answer. “La verdad por favor.” (The truth please.) Maritza sighed.

“Llamé a su embajada y pedí hablar con los agentes que intentaban capturar a Escobar,” (I called your embassy and asked to speak to the agents trying to take down Escobar.) She replied. Ari’s stomach dropped.

“¿Por qué no llamar al CNP?” (Why not call the CNP?) She pushed. Ari knew exactly why, but still needed to ask. Ari watched her closely.

“Porque aquí no puedo confiar en la policía,” (Because I cannot trust the police here.) She answered. “Muchos de ellos trabajan para Escobar.” (Many of them work for Escobar.) Ari knew she was lying. She could read it all over her face.

“¿Estás seguro de que así fue como lo conociste?” (Are you sure that’s how you met him?) Ari pushed. “¿No fue a través de un amigo? ¿O trabajar?” (It wasn't through a friend? Or work?) Ari tagged on the last question knowing Javi’s penchant for brothels. Maritza’s gaze hardened.

“No tengo amigos que se relacionen con las fuerzas del orden,” (I have no friends that associate with law enforcement.) She said angrily. “Sé mejor que eso en este país abandonado por Dios.” (I know better than that in this god forsaken country.)

“No te creo,” (I don’t believe you) Ari said. Maritza just shook her head. “Estás mintiendo sobre algo. Está por toda tu cara.” (You're lying about something. It's all over your face.)

“Estoy asustada,” (I’m scared) Maritza said in a shaky voice. “Sin saberlo, causé la muerte de oficiales del CNP, y si Escobar descubre que estaba tratando de entregarlo... bueno, todos sabemos cómo termina eso.” (I unknowingly caused the death of CNP officers, and if Escobar finds out I was trying to turn him in... well, we all know how that ends.) Tears formed in her eyes. “Tengo una niña.” (I have a little girl.) Ari swallowed thickly. Was she misreading Maritza’s fear as lies? She was too close to this to truly be able to read the situation.

“¿Juras que me estás diciendo la verdad?” (You swear you are telling me the truth?) Ari asked. “¿Sobre la vida de su hija?” (On your daughter’s life?)

“Lo juro,” (I swear) Maritza replied. Ari nodded and turned away. Javi had been with another woman the night he got this intel. She was going to be sick. How could he do this? Her head swam with images of him and the mystery woman.

“Muy bien, estamos aquí,” (Alright, we’re here) Trujillo announced as he parked across from the cafe.

“Entra y espéralo,” (Go in and wait for him) Javi told Maritza. She got out of the car and walked into the cafe.

Javier sat in the silent car waiting for Limón to arrive. He could feel the tension and anger radiating off Ari. He wanted to check in with her, but he knew he had to wait until they were alone. She was pissed and would likely bite his head off if he asked how she was in front of Trujillo. He sat up straighter as he noticed their target arrive.

“Here we go,” he murmured. All three of them were alert now. Limón was only in the cafe a minute before he stepped out, satellite phone pressed to his ear. His call ended quickly and he ducked back into the cafe. Just as fast, he was back outside, heading to his car. Javi nodded to Trujillo, who pulled out and followed the dark red Toyota. After some winding through the streets, he parked in front of a building and headed in. Javi picked up his sat phone to call for backup.

“Es Peña,” (It’s Peña) Javi said into the phone. “Estoy con Trujillo y Morgan en 38 con 24. Necesitamos refuerzos.” (I’m here with Trujillo and Morgan at the corner of 38th and 24th. We need backup)

“Lo siento,” (I’m sorry) the woman on the other end of the line said. “No tengo autorización para mandarles patrullas.” (There’s no authorization to dispatch patrols.)

“Tenemos a alguien de confianza de Escobar que acaba de entrar en un edificio,” (We’re watching one of Escobar’s guys that just entered the building.) Javi explained.

“Vuelva a la base y pediremos autorización de Bogotá,” (Return to base, and we can ask for authorization from Bogotá.) she told him. Javi sighed heavily, frustrated beyond belief. He hung up the call.

“Cabrón,” (Asshole) Javi swore angrily. “Y llega el martes, hijo de puta.” (And you’ll show up next Tuesday, son of a bitch.) Javi looked back at the building in time to see Limón walk out with someone else. “Oh shit, that’s Velasco.”

“Puta,” (Shit) Trujillo said. “¿Qué hacemos?” (What do we do?) Limón got in the car.

“Pues seguimos a Velasco,” (We stick with Velasco) Javi told him. “El otro no importa.” (The other one doesn’t matter)

“¿Cuántos tipos piensa qué hay adentro, Peña?” (How many guys do you think are inside, Peña?) Trujillo asked. Velasco walked back into the building and Javi looked at Trujillo.

“Muchos para solo tres, ¿no?” (Too many for just us three, no?)

“Sí, nos vuelven mierda,” (Yeah, we’d be screwed.) Trujillo agreed. “Hijo de puta. Deberíamos llamar refuerzos, ¿no?” (Son of a bitch. We should call for backup, right?) Javi ran his tongue over his teeth as he contemplated his next move. If they went by the books on this, they’d lose Velasco. Search Bloc would drag their feet getting through all the red tape, and he’d be back in the wind….but making this call would put Ari face to face with the men he wanted nowhere near her. He glanced in the mirror to look at Ari. She had been suspiciously quiet since they left Maritza’s.

He agonized over what to do. Suddenly, the image of Ari, sobbing and broken beside Carrillo’s body flashed through his mind. He couldn’t risk losing this chance. He needed to get to Escobar, and Velasco was his ticket. He picked up the phone and began dialing.

“¿A quién está llamando?” (Who are you calling?) Trujillo asked him.

“Backup,” Javi said as the phone rang. A short time later a truck pulled up behind them.

“¿Qué está pasando, Peña?” (What’s going on, Peña?) Trujillo asked quietly.

“Yo manejó esto,” (I’ll handle this) They got out of the car. Berna and the Castaños approached them, armed to the teeth. As soon as Ari saw the Castaños she turned to him with wide eyes.

“What the fuck, Javi?” She said in a low voice. He ignored her and addressed Berna. “Este es Trujillo. Puedan confiar en él.” (This is Trujillo. You can trust him.) Berna looked at Trujillo, then back to Javier.

“Por fin ves la luz, Javier,” (You’re finally seeing the light, Javier.) Berna said.

“Digamos más bien que estoy probando si funciona,” (Let’s just see if this works.) Javi told him.

“¿Ustedes van a entrar?” (You all coming?) Carlos asked. Javi, Ari, and Trujillo looked at each other before Javi nodded. “Bueno, pues. Entonces, ustedes tres, por el frente conmigo. Berna con sus hombres, por detrás, ¿entendido?” (Okay, then. You three, in the front with me. Berna with his men, around back. Understood?”) Javi nodded once more.

“Ustedes más bien manténganse alejados de la ventanas,” (Just stay clear of the windows) Fidel warned them. He looked at Ari. “Especialmente tú, preciosa.” (Especially you, gorgeous.) Ari grimaced and pulled her gun out. Javi’s gut clenched. He hated that the woman he loved was on the radar of these psychopaths. “Vamos, pues,” (Let’s go then) Fidel told the group.

“Vamos,” (Let’s move) Carlos reiterated. The two groups separated, and Fidel took off across the street with his sniper rifle. The men set charges on the front door. They blew it open and tossed in smoke bombs for coverage. As soon as Escobar’s men started coming towards them, they opened fire and moved into the building, spreading out to find Velasco. Javi hurried upstairs, gunshots echoing around him. He thought Ari was right behind him. Halfway up the stairs a man popped up at the top, gun aimed at Javi. He froze just as the sicario’s brains splattered on the wall beside him. Javi glanced at the window and realized why Fidel had warned them. He was picking off Escobar’s men from the roof across the street. Before he had time to process the close call Velasco appeared at the top of the stairs. Javi glanced back to make sure Ari was with him, but she was nowhere to be seen. Fear shot through him, but he had no time to worry or look for her. He raced up the stairs and followed Velasco out onto the rooftop.

“Hey!” He shouted at the sicario. Velasco turned and fired a shot. Javi ducked down. He popped back up and chased after Velasco. He chased him through a house and into an alley. Javi pushed himself harder, trying to catch up while dodging the bullets Velasco randomly fired at him. At one point he turned around and fired two shots that would have been direct hits if Javi hadn’t managed to duck in a doorway. He chased him a bit further, Trujillo had caught up with him and was close behind. Just as Velasco was about to turn the corner he was hit in the face with the butt of Carlos’s rifle, knocking him to the ground. Carlos stepped on his arm to pin him down and kicked his gun away. Berna and Ari appeared behind Carlos. Javi breathed a sigh of relief that she was ok.

“¿Pa dónde ibas, gonorrea hijo de puta? Huh?” (Where were you going, you filthy son of a bitch?) He pulled Velasco up and hauled him off. They followed the men back to the cars. Javi could feel Ari’s eyes burning a hole in his back. He knew he’d have a lot to answer for once they were alone. Carlos tossed Velasco in the back of one of the cars and walked back over to where they were standing with Berna. Fidel rejoined the group.

“Lo hicieron bien,” (You did well) Fidel told them.

“Tu chica aquí es una chingona,” (Your girl here is one badass bitch) Carlos told Javi. It took every ounce of control fro Javi to show no reaction. “Ella me salvó la vida allí.” (She saved my life in there) Javi’s gaze shot to Ari. She just shrugged.

“One of them snuck up on him,” Ari explained. “I got to him before he got to your friend here.” He noticed the slight irritation from the men that Ari used English.

“Bella y mortal,” (Beautiful and deadly) Fidel said with admiration. “Mi tipo de mujer.” (My type of woman.)

“Será un día frío en el infierno,” (It’ll be a cold day in hell) Ari scoffed. The Castaños laughed.

“Oh, me gusta ésta,” (Oh, I like this one) Fidel murmured. “Cuidado, Peña… o puede que te la robe de las narices.” (Watch out, Peña…or I may just steal her out from under you) Javi scowled and clenched his fists. He had to remind himself that punching this asshole in the face would not end well for any of them right now.

“Mantén los ojos—y las manos—lejos de ella,” (Keep your eyes—and hands—away from her) he practically growled.

“¿Qué tal una parte diferente del cuerpo?“ (How about a different body part?) Carlos asked with a leer.

“No, si quieres conservar esa parte específica del cuerpo,” (Not if you want to keep that particular body part) Ari cut in. Berna and the Castaños laughed.

“Ella es un petardo,” (She’s a firecracker) Berna said. “Será un acuerdo interesante. Les contaremos qué nos aporta.“ (This will be an interesting arrangement. We’ll let you know what we get out of him.) Berna nodded towards Velasco. With that they took their leave. Javi turned to meet the angry eyes of Ari.

“Not now,” he said in a low voice. She clenched her jaw and nodded once. They got back in the car and headed to Maritza’s. “I’ll just be a minute.” Javi told them and jumped out of the car. He went into the building and knocked on her door. She answered immediately.

“Funcionó,” (It worked) Javi told her. “Estamos a mano.” (We’re even)

“Necesito ayuda con la visa para sacar a mi familia de Medellín,” (I need you to help me get a visa and get my family out of Medellín) Maritza told him. “Adonde Pablo no pueda encontrarnos.” (Somewhere Pablo can’t find us)

“No funciona así,” (It doesn’t work like that) Javi told her. “Lo siento.” (I’m sorry) She was clearly irritated by his dismissive words.

“¿Y entonces?” (So, then?) “¿Cómo voy a estar bien?” (How am I supposed to be ok?) When Javi didn’t answer, she closed the door. He walked back outside and got into the car.

“Así haremos las cosas en adelante,¿no, Peñita?” (Is this how things are going to work from now on, Peña?) Trujillo asked.

“No se preocupe, ¿okay?” (Don’t worry about it, ok?) Javi told him. “No va a pasar más esto.” (It won’t happen again)

“No. No estoy preocupado,” (No. I’m not worried.) Trujillo responded and started the car.

“Well, I am,” he heard Ari whisper in the back.

They arrived back at headquarters just after dark. The new head of Search Bloc, Colonel Martinez, was there and addressing the men. Javi and Ari walked up behind the large group of CNP officers standing outside. They joined Steve who was leaning against the front of the building. Trujillo stood on the other side of the entrance.

Martinez was going on and on about his new tactics. A systematic grid search. Javi looked at Trujillo. They both shook their heads. Dammit, he missed Carrillo. Disgusted with this new turn of events, Javier had heard enough. He pushed off the wall and went into the building. Ari and Steve followed.

“A fucking grid search?” Javi scoffed quietly as they walked towards their desks. “Isn’t that how they caught the guy who shot Abraham Lincoln?”

“It’s a change,” Steve offered.

“Yeah, it’s dated and conventional,” Javi shot back. They stopped at the table near their desks to grab a cup of coffee.

“Well, we tried going bullet for bullet with him,” Steve reminded him, “and you saw how that ended up.” Ari flinched. Steve shot her an apologetic look. Javi looked at Steve in amazement. He couldn’t believe he was willing to go along with a method that was slow and would ultimately be unsuccessful.

“Oh, so that’s it?” Javi asked “A few weeks ago you volunteered to jump into a chopper with Carrillo and now it’s a change?” When Steve just nodded, Javi continued. “Don’t worry about it, man. We’ll all feel better once Escobar’s in the ground one way or another, right?”

“There is no other way, Javi,” Steve warned. “Search Bloc is the only game in town.” Javi looked at Steve for a long moment.

“You really think this asshole can get it done?” Javi asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered honestly. “Maybe he’ll surprise us.”

“Okay,” Javi said softly. “Grid search it is.” Javi grabbed his coffee and turned.

“Javi,” Ari said. He paused and looked at her. “We need to talk.” Javi glanced at Steve.

“Later,” he promised. “I have something I need to take care of.”

“Javier,” Ari said in warning.

“I promise, hermosa,” he said, “we’ll discuss this when I get back.” Ari sighed in frustration. He needed to find out what Berna got out of Velasco before he talked to Ari. He needed this to not be all for nothing. He needed time to figure out what he was going to tell her. He downed the coffee in one gulp and headed out to the cafe.

“¿Qué le sacaron a Velasco?” (What did you find out from Velasco?) Javi asked as soon as he saw Berna at the cafe.

“Ni mierda,” (Not a fucking thing) Berna replied. “Ese hijo de puta terminó siendo más duro de lo que creí.” (That son of a bitch turned out to be a lot tougher than I thought.) Fuck. He was afraid of that. Javi lit his cigarette and lay and envelope on the table. “¿Eso es lo que pienso que es?” (Is that what I think it is?) Berna reached for it, but Javi quickly put his hand on top.

“Reglas del juego,” (Rules of the game.) Javi said quietly. “Solo matamos a gente armada. Sicarios. o va haber información sobre negocios, ni de laboratorios, ni de envíos. Esto no trata de ayudar a Judy. Se trata de matar a Pablo.” (We only go after armed people. Sicarios. There wont be any information abut businesses or labs to shipments. This isn’t about helping Judy. This is about killing Pablo.) Berna picked up the envelope.

“Y una cosa más,” (And one more thing) Javier demanded. Berna nodded for him to go on. “Que nadie toque a Ariana. Mantenla alejada de esto. ¿Entendido?” (No one touches Ariana. You keep her out of this. Understood?) Berna nodded in agreement.

“Entonces…brindo por matar a Pablo,” (Well, then…here’s to killing Pablo.) Berna said.

Javi got back to headquarters and immediately went to their room. He knew Ari would be waiting for him. Sure enough, she was there, pacing. He knew this was going to be bad. She was pissed. She spun to face him when he closed the door. She walked up and smelled him—what the fuck was that?—then took two steps back to glare at him.

“What the fuck is going on, Javier?” She said angrily.

“I can explain,” he began.

“You damn well better,” she raged. “How the hell are you mixed up with those psychopaths?”

“We have a mutual goal,” he said. Ari choked on an outraged laugh.

“A mutual goal?” Her face crinkled in disbelief. “What the fuck does that mean? I know you, and there is no way you would work with these assholes. No matter how much you want to take down Escobar.” He twisted his lips and clenched his fist. She knew him too well. He couldn’t bullshit his way through this one. He had to tell her the truth.

“They threatened you, Ari,” he said softly. She froze.

“What?” She whispered.

“They threatened you. Judy Moncada, Don Berna, and the Castaños. If I don’t play ball, they’re coming for you.”

“Javi—” she began. He could see what she was thinking and cut her off.

“—They don’t care about the hands off policy when it comes to DEA agents, Ari. These people are crazy, and they’ll do anything to eliminate Escobar. You are the perfect way to do that.” He’d heaved a deep breath. “I couldn’t risk it. I can’t risk you. Ever.” Her features softened.

“Javi, this is too dangerous. I don’t want you involved with them.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe, Ariana. Don’t you dare fucking ask me to stop doing that.” She swallowed, and an emotion he didn’t understand crossed her face.

“Are you cheating on me, Javier?”

“What?” He asked in shock. This was not something he had ever fathomed her asking him at this moment.

“The night you got the intel. The night of”—she flinched slightly—“the ambush. You came here smelling like vanilla.”

“Ok?” He had no idea where she was going with this.

“That’s how you always smelled after meeting with that woman. The one you were fucking. Now, at first, I thought she was the one who introduced you to Maritza Rincón, and that’s why you smelled like her. But then Maritza set me straight. She told me she called the embassy and that’s how she got in touch with you. So, you were with that other woman. What happened? Did you finally get tired of fucking just me?”

“Ari, no,” he said in horror. “I haven’t been with anyone but you since I committed to us. I did meet Maritza through Gabby.”

“Gabby? Is that her name?”

“Yes,” Javi replied. “She called me and said she needed to see me.”

“And you just couldn’t wait to run right into her arms?” She was fighting back tears. He hated this. He needed to clear this up immediately. He didn’t want to be the source of her pain ever again.

“No,” he said firmly. “I decided to go by so I could tell her I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore. That she needed to lose my number. When I got there she grabbed me and kissed me. I immediately pulled her off. I had every intention of telling you all this, but then we got the intel and Carrillo…honestly it all fell onto the back burner.” When she just stared at him he continued. After I pulled Gabby off of me, I noticed Maritza waiting in the room, and Gabby told me the reason she had called was to put me in touch with her friend. I got the intel, told Gabby we were done—that you were the only woman I wanted—and I left.”

“Maritza swore on the life of her daughter that she got to you through he embassy,” Ari said stubbornly. “What kind of a mother would lie on the life of her child? Hmm?” Javi could see Ari was struggling. She wanted to believe him, but his history with her was stacking the odds against him.

“A desperate one who doesn’t know who to trust,” Javi answered. “I’m not lying to you, Ariana. I have never lied to you, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Why did you tell Carrillo you trusted her?” She asked angrily. “You didn’t know her.”

“I trusted Gabby,” he said, shame washing over him at his colossal error in judgement.

“You trusted your whore, and it got my best friend killed!” Ari shouted. “He’s six feet in the ground! Cold…gone. All because you’re too soft when it comes to these prostitutes.”

“I know,” he whispered. He was choking on self loathing. He would never forgive himself for Carrillo’s death. She deflated as the rage seemed to leave her.

“I don’t know how we move on from here, Javi,” Ari said sadly.

“What do you mean?” Javi asked in a shaky voice. He was terrified of what she would say next.

“I don’t think I can do this,” her voice trembled. Javi’s knees almost gave out. She clenched her eyes closed for a moment before opening them and meeting his gaze. “I think I’ve always known, but I just didn’t want to see it. Part of me knew, when we decided to try an actual relationship, that we’d end up here. The simple fact is you don’t love me. And no matter how much I love you, it will never be enough to make this work because I’m not what you want.”

“Ari, baby, I didn’t cheat on you,” Javi pleaded. “You have to believe me. That bitch lied to you. You are all that I want. You’re everything I never knew I needed.” She looked deep into his eyes.

“I believe you,” she said finally. He sagged in relief. “But it doesn’t matter.” He felt as if he might throw up. “Carrillo’s death hangs between us. I don’t know how we move past that.”

“Please,” Javi begged. “Please don’t do this, baby.”

“I need some time, Javi,” she said softly. “Can you give me that?” He nodded rapidly. He’d agree to anything…anything but giving her up. He stepped forward to close the distance between them. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her deeply, passionately. To his relief, she kissed him back. After a long, long moment, he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. He cupped the side of her face.

“Take the time you need, Ari,” he said gently. “Just, please, find your way back to me. I need you. I don’t know if I can breathe without you.”

“No promises,” she said. His heart plummeted, but then she smiled.

“Really? Now?” He asked, mildly exasperated at her attempt at a joke while his heart was bleeding out at her feet. Her face sobered.

“I love you, Javier Peña,” she whispered. “I just need to figure out if love is enough.” His heart clenched in fear.

“Ok, hermosa,” he whispered back. She stepped out of his arms and silently left the room. He stood there for a long time, trying to figure out how to put the pieces of his soul back together.

Chapter 22

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[thepatricktreestump]

you & me: chapter six

do you want to kiss me or not?

Peter Parker x Reader

Nobody prepares you for having company like Spider-Man over to your house. You underestimated just how awkward and strange it would really be. When you first invited him in, for some reason, you imagined sharing tea and listening to him tell you stories of his harrowing adventures. But now, realizing he can’t take off his mask and you aren’t able to see his true identity, things were a bit underwhelming. You carefully rolled out your computer chair for him to sit on while you sat at the edge of your bed, unsure where exactly things would lead. Perhaps you should’ve thought this through for longer than a second.

“Nice place,” he nodded, taking in all the surroundings of your room. You had posters hung up of some of your favorite bands and movies, another wall cluttered with photos of you and your friends, and a window big enough to get a decent view.

“Thanks,” you fiddled with your fingers and nodded back at him. “Tell me more about yourself.”

He seemed surprised. “Oh? Well what do you want to know?” He spun around on the computer chair, which you found half immature, half endearing.

“I dunno. Admittedly, I don’t know a whole lot about Spider-Man,” you confessed.

“Wow. And here I thought you were a fan,” he pretended to take offense.

“More of an admirer than a fan,” you corrected.

“A secret admirer, huh?” he perked up.

“No, not like that!” you groaned and he chuckled softly.

“No, no, I like that. Admirer. Sounds romantic,” he hummed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you grumbled.

“Well you do have a crush on me so…” he drew out and your face turned red.

“Do not,” you shook your head.

“Do too,” he argued. “You asked to see me again.”

You covered your face in your hands with embarrassment. Sure, you found Spider-Man attractive, but so did every other woman in New York City. You couldn’t help that he was particularly strong, courageous, brave, funny, and charming. “Shut up,” you mumbled.

“What do you want to know?” he crossed his legs on his chair, sitting upright. “I don’t mind telling you some stuff I suppose.”

You furrowed your brow for a moment, trying to think up something you were genuinely curious about. “How long have you been Spider-Man?” you wondered.

“A couple years now,” he replied. “Although honestly, it hasn’t felt that long.”

“Have you always worked in New York City?” you asked.

“Yup. Mostly Manhattan and Brooklyn. Sometimes Queens,” he sighed. “I miss when it used to be smaller stuff. Friendly neighborhood problems. Things like stolen bikes and stopping bullies. Now it’s more like bank robberies and gun violence and saving people from burning buildings. Heavier stuff.”

“Sounds like it,” your eyes widened. “Do you enjoy it though?”

“The job? Yeah of course. I get to save people everyday. I feel honored to be able to do that,” he explained. “I wish it came with vision and dental, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers, amirite?”

You simpered. “Some would call it heroic.”

“Nah, I’m just helping people who need it. Looking out for the little guy,” he insisted. “I don’t really associate myself with all that hero stuff.”

“Too political?” you tilted your head to the side.

“Kind of, but also just exhausting. I’m not the type of person who likes attention from the media,” he shook his head.

“Ironic considering you’re the poster child for the Daily Bugle,” you snorted. “Which reminds me, how did you end up meeting Peter anyways?”

He seemed to be caught off guard by your question. Coughing for a moment, then recovering, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry?”

“Peter. Parker. You know, the photographer,” you clarified. “The one who told you I wanted to talk to you again.”

“Right, right,” he proceeded to have another coughing fit. “The photographer guy from the Bugle… What was your question?”

“How did you guys find each other? I mean, you move fast. I’m surprised you let anyone take professional photos of you. Usually people find you in low definition pixelated YouTube videos,” you mused. “You must have some sort of trust in the guy to allow him to snap pictures of you on duty.”

“Well he’s a professional so…” he trailed off, seemingly confounded by your question. He shook his head. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” you leaned back on your bed, palms pressing into the mattress behind you.

“What’s going on here?” he threw the question back at you. “Why’d you invite me into your bedroom?”

Your cheeks instantly flushed at the inquiry. “It’s cold outside, you’ve probably been working all night long, I don’t know,” you mumbled nervously.

“Ah, I think you like me. Don’t you?” he probed.

“Stop saying that,” your face turned even redder by the second.

“No need to be shy, I like you too,” he shrugged. “Makes two of us.”

You shook your head instantly. “Okay maybe I do like you. but I can’t,” you argued. “I have a boyfriend.”

Spider-Man seemed surprised. “A boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you said a little more adamantly.

“Well I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” he whispered. He stood up from where he was sitting and took a step towards you, your heart beating in your throat. You stared at the wide white bug eyes on his mask, the spider on his chest, the way he towered over you sitting on the bed.

“Listen, I don’t think…” you mumbled, losing track of consciousness as he took another step towards you, reaching out his hand. You suddenly felt lightheaded.

“Maybe he doesn’t have to know,” he offered. “I mean, how many chances do you get to kiss your favorite vigilante?”

Cautious but curious, you took his hand, standing up from where you were sitting on the bed to face him. Taking a moment to feel the texture of his suit gloves underneath your fingertips, you glanced down to where you were now holding hands, and then back up at his masked face. “You want to kiss me?” you gulped, staring at him anxiously.

“Honestly, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while now,” he admitted. He took his other hand and carefully peeled his mask up above his mouth, your heart thumping even louder now, revealing a five o’clock shadow and pink lips.

“I don’t even know your name,” you breathed softly, scared but excited.

“You can call me whatever you’d like,” he smiled gently. He slowly reached out to cup your face in his free hand, thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“You mean that?”

“One hundred percent.”

“How many girls do you tell that to?”

“Only you.”

“Spider-Man…”

“Hey,” he moved his hand towards your chin, slightly lifting it up so his gaze met yours. “Do you want to kiss me or not?”

You don’t know what possessed you, but you leaned in for the kiss, his lips meeting yours, and you instantly folded. His big strong arms enveloped you, your hands pressing into his back, his tongue slowly entering your mouth. He tasted so good, and you slowly felt yourself melting into his touch, your nose brushing up against his mask. There was something so hot about kissing him, not knowing his name or seeing his face, just letting him take you.

“Fuck…” you moaned softly as he pulled away from the kiss, both of you fighting to catch your breath.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, one hand holding your face gently.

You nodded, looking up at him, mask still covering half of his face. 

“Then let me take care of you,” he whispered. You felt yourself fall back onto the bed behind you and him following suit, now on top of you, kissing you passionately. Part of you wanted to know him, really know him. Know all of his lips, his mouth, his tongue, the muscles you could feel underneath his suit, his pecs, his abs, his… Everything. You wondered about him, so much, so many things, that you could probably ask him questions for days. Spider-Man was such a mystery, and how here he was, in your bed, kissing you.

You stop him for a moment, pushing him back gently, coming to some sort of realization. “How many girls do you sleep with, Spider-Man?” you asked, cautious but concerned.

He paused, head spinning, trying to bring himself back into the moment. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t want to be just another fangirl you sleep with,” you argued.

This elicited a chuckle from his lips, amused. He leaned in to kiss you again, and then pulled back slowly. “To be completely honest with you, it’s been a very long time since I’ve done something like this,” he confessed. “Trust me when I say, this is something entirely new to me too.” He kissed you one more time. “And for the record, I have never slept with any fangirls.”

“Oh,” your face flushed red with embarrassment.

“I don’t know where all these whore allegations are coming from,” he laughed softly. “Between all the crime fighting and justice serving I don’t usually have enough time to squeeze in random hook ups.”

“Right, right,” you mumbled.

“Here,” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “How about instead of overthinking ourselves into spiraling we just enjoy yourselves? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, gaining back whatever confidence you had lost. “Yeah let’s shut up and take our clothes off.”

He smirked, catching himself from laughing once again. “Whatever you say, princess.”

“Mask stays on?” you wondered aloud and he nodded.

“But the suit can come off,” he offered. He reached behind himself and pulled down the zipper to reveal his chest and your breath caught in your throat. He slid his suit to the floor, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, and you admired his body. He was so fit and lean, his muscles leaving you breathless, and the bulge in his underwear making you flustered. He was so built.

“You’re really hot,” you murmured, causing him to smirk. Despite keeping his mask half on, you could tell he was handsome. His smile was enough to know.

“You’re beautiful,” he hummed, snaking his hands underneath your shirt and creeping up your back, until you helped him slide it off, revealing your bra. “So gorgeous. Look at you.”

You instantly blushed, trying to hide a smile. “You’re built like some sort of Greek god,” you murmured, your fingertips softly grazing his shoulders and biceps.

Both of you shed your underwear and began making out, the kisses slow and passionate, your bodies pressed together. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his weight pressing into you, the growing desperation in each kiss as you grinded against each other. Between his mild pants and your muffled moans, you each smiled, your head now resting against his neck. He sank into you and you couldn’t help yourself, loudly gasping, clawing at his back before humming in approval as he began to fuck you against the mattress. He continued, slowly picking up the pace, fucking you until you were a pretty little mess on your bed. Pleasure washed through your body at the sensation, your mind feeling surreal as you looked up and stared at his mask still covering half his face. Spider-Man was fucking you. And you had never felt so good.

[horrorcitos]

I have been isolated from (well, self-isolated really but you’ll read why I felt the need to do so) my local professional community and just learned through the grapevine that this thing I warned them was going to happen finally happened and just…fuck.

Last fall I was working in a group practice and witnessed our clinical director doing things that were blatantly dangerous—well outside of our professional standards and anything that resembled ethical bounds. There were a couple bad outcomes that I believed could have been prevented. I tried to talk to her about it (call-in vs call-out or whatever the fuck) and she essentially shut me down with “I’ve been doing this longer than you and I’m higher up in the medical hierarchy; you just need to be humble and shut up”. (To clarify—I’m an advanced practice provider but not a physician; she’s a physician). The next week I was fired without notice or reason (obviously I knew why) and it enraged me because I was the only Spanish-speaking, culturally-aligned provider and the practice served a predominately migrant or first-gen, impoverished, high-risk, Mexican and Chicano population that spoke little to no English.

After getting counsel from some trusted mentors, I made the decision to report her to our state medical board as well as the hospital network that she had privileges at. I then went to our specialty-specific community organization in hopes that they could reign her in, and was ultimately condemned by them—criticized that my vocalization on the issue was going to put us all at risk if journalists got ahold of the story and not-so-transparently threatened that I could make things difficult for myself professionally in the future if I didn’t stop.

Some of my colleague confidants suggested I start blasting her on social media but—while I’m sure that would make me feel vindicated and give me ample dopamine hits each time a new stranger agreed that this bitch was a little worm—that’s not my vibe. When I asked myself what resolution I wanted from this situation, it wasn’t punishment or humiliation or even public accountability; I just wanted her to stop and make better, safer choices.

So I swallowed my disgust and let it go. I removed my name + financial patronage of our professional organization. I stopped going to group events. And biggest of all, I started looking for jobs in other cities. I could never again respect any of the people who told me to mind my business, and I refuse to work with people I don’t respect. It has been lonely but I’ve told myself that at the end of the day I can say I’m not spineless and I stood in my integrity.

Unfortunately today I received news that someone tragically died under this physician’s care due to her ego and incompetence. Someone who never should have died. Someone who was not high-risk. And to rub salt in the wound, I’m seeing all the people from the organization I went to about this MONTHS ago suddenly denounce her and say they would have never guessed she would do something like this. Faux shock, fake tears, the fucking works.

I am feeling especially violent. I want to beat her ass and then the asses of every person who told me I was out of line. I knew. I knew this day was coming.

The capitalistic medical-industrial complex in this country is so egregiously negligent and disturbing.

[satureja13]

Before the Boys could even discuss if they should accept Albaleyh's offer and rescue B.D to get her ship to hunt down Tiny Can, she already has to leave. They agreed to contact her later, once they'd made their decision. Rescueing B.D would cost them additional time they don't have (Tiny Can has a massive lead over them already. And who knows how and when they'd eventually be able to free B.D) - but without a ship they wouldn't go anywhere anyway... Rubyn hugged Albaleyh goodbye and she left. Sai: "Too bad she couldn't wait. As an Ambassador she must be very busy, I guess." Rubyn sighed: "She is. And she also has to care for the kids." Sai didn't expect this: "They have kids?"

When Albaleyh told their story, she talked of B.D as one of her crew. Sure, she also mentioned they had a 'some' going on, but she was kind of distanced when she talked about him. Maybe it was hard for her to talk about it? So she tried to act professional? Rubyn: "Ah no, they are not Albaleyh's kids, just B.D's. They have nowhere else to go since their father is in jail, so Albaleyh cares for them." Well, if any of them had any doubts if they should accept the offer - they fizzled out with this revelation. The poor kids! Jack can't even imagine how B.D must feel. If he and Kiyoshi had kids and... Ouh, where are these thoughts now coming from? ö.Ö' (TMI: In fact adult Jack and Kiyoshi do have kids - 4 of them :3 see end of the post.)

To make them feel even worse, Rubyn showed them some pics of B.D and his kids Seon Mi and Joon Gi. Taken on happier days... Seems the two had accompanied Albaleyh and B.D on their odyssey to find the lost crew member... They'd even been right here at Mos Verdantis.

Sai felt ashamed that they were only thinking of themselves and their own problems - even though their core mission was to help other creatures in need. And Sai had to just turn around and look in the eyes of his friends to see they felt the same way. And then he knew exactly what to do. So he quickly ran after Albaleyh to tell her they'd do anything in their powers to help her and get the kids' father back. (By the way she walks, Albaleyh seems quite confident that the Boys would eventually agree to get B.D out of the fangs of the First Order ^^')

Sai: "Ambassador! Wait!"

Albaleyh was happy to hear that the Boys were going to help her. There were just a few little matters to be clarified. Sai: "So the ship will be for free, if I understood that right, but what about the costs for the crew and the fuel?" Albaleyh: "Ah, don't worry. Even though the ship is old and quite big, I had the engine upgraded and it runs with only a few dilithium crystals per parsec, they can be found anywhere and they are also quite cheap. The most expensive thing about this ship are the immense dock charges since it's so huge. So I'm happy - and it's cheaper - when she's out and about :3 And for the crew: you are the crew! ^^' The ship has an advanced autopilot and it's quite easy to work with. Rubyn will show you how and teach you everything else you need to know. You'll only have to cover your expenses, food and stuff. I really have to get going now. Thank you so much!"

And, as promised, here are some pics of the kids of adult Kiyoshi and Jack from our other stories. vltr: George (the eldest), adult Jack, Anthony (the second youngest), Logan (the second oldest, who fell in love with Giga/Saiwa in this story -> Love Hurts) and Nina, the youngest)

You can read more of them in this (unfinished) story -> The Family Business

They have the genetics of Jack and their mothers, I didn't know by then that Kiyoshi was the father. (And that's the reason why I still have so much fun telling their stories, because there's still so much I don't know about them.) But George, Logan and Anthony are a lot like Kiyoshi. And little Nina is so teenage Jack hahaha.

And here they are at Callahan Mansion with adult Giga/Saiwa, Guidry and their Au Pair Lucy (granddaughter of Dtui, Kiyoshi's mentor)

'I have climbed highest mountains I have run through the fields Only to be with you Only to be with you I have run I have crawled I have scaled these city walls These city walls Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for'

I still haven't found what I'm looking for - U2

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[yumebu999]

The Iron Maiden (JJBA x reader) Chapter 1: I'll Do It

Main post, Prologue

Not even looking up from your coffee on the table, you zoned out to the sound of Doppio's voice calling out your name. Speaking sentences he must've practiced multiple times in his head before meeting up with you, his voice was inaudible by the cafe's soft background music mixed with your loud thoughts of last night clouding your senses.

"What..." You asked, although it sounded more like a statement. You could hardly even hear your own voice over your own thoughts. Your whole body feels heavy, especially your head and eyes. You would've felt bad for ignoring Doppio, only if you weren't drenched in fatigue.

Doppio shifts in his seat across from you, trying to appear professional. He looks at you with a worried expression, but swallows his concern and tries to play brave. "I was just talking about the group you'll be trying out. The bodyguard team-" "Bucciarati's team," you cut.

You make enough money during solo missions, but you can't be used to your full extent if you're solo, and Doppio won't always be there to assist you. So you need to join a group, even if it makes you uncomfortable.

"Y-Yes," Doppio gulps. "Usually Bucciarati handpicks his members, but when he heard you needed a group, he wanted you to join him. Have you two met before...?" "Yeah. We've talked before. ...He's a nice man." You didn't have to add that last part, but it felt nice doing so. Bucciarati is a nice person.

For a moment, Doppio looked like he wanted to ask about the history between you and Bucciarati, but it's not like that has anything to do with the present and the future of you working together. He could just say it's part of the work process, but he respects you and your privacy too much.

Feeling a little bad for practically ignoring him until the topic of another person and group had come up, you carry one, "So... it's just the bodyguard team, and then in two days, I'll try out the assassination team. Right?" "Yeah," Doppio nods. "Not many teams took much interest in you. They already have their own abilities, so a weapon doesn't really sound all that appealing on paper..." Doppio sounds more apologetic the more he talks about it.

"It's not like you're not valuable to any team!" Doppio exclaims, trying to clarify. Although, clarifying in such a way just makes it hurt even more. "It's just that... on paper, your abilities don't seem all that useful to other people." "I get it. And Bucciarati already knows me, so he wants me to join. Even if he's not completely familiar with my ability, he knows me and wants me to join." That being the only reason for someone to want you on their team feels harsh, but what can you do?

"What about the assassination team?" You asked with a sort of glare, narrowing your tired eyes at him, focusing your gaze on his freckled face. "They thought the idea of a weapon would be useful... because they're the assassination team, and all..." Doppio wants to make you seem more worthy when explaining, but he just can't. Knowing him though, you can tell he already values you, which is enough at the moment. But it's clearly not enough to make you smile or gain a better wage. "Got it." What a pain.

Before you decided to go solo, you used to be passed around for higher ups—commissioned for use until they got bored of you. They don't even call you by your name, just "The Iron Maiden" for your steel service. It feels horrible being passed around to be used as a weapon by people you hardly know. ...And somewhat insanitary. It also meant more people got to know of your ability. Those are exact reasons you've only been working solo, and occasionally having Doppio accompany you for certain missions. He's the only person you feel comfortable with. You make him feel valued, and he wants you to feel the same.

Doppio fumbles around in his seat. Fumbling with his fingers, fumbling with his hair between his fingers, hoping he looks okay. Switching his gaze from you, to the floor, to the wall, to his drink. He already looked so awkward the moment he walked in the cafe, and he seems to get worse the more the silence between you two carries on.

Unable to take the silence anymore, Doppio sits up from his seat and pushes it back in. "I'll leave you to it, then...?" He had already stood up, but sounded unsure of leaving you yet. It looks more like he's trying to give you space rather than make some for himself by walking away. It's as if he's moving without thinking, just trying to get out of the awkward situation as fast as possible and make you feel more comfortable. You do seem tired—unapologetically, at that. "Yeah," you nodded. Still too tired to show even a small smile out of politeness, you just sigh and take another sip of your coffee.

Doppio cares deeply about staying with you, to make sure you're okay, but can't find it in himself to ask. And you're too tired to care about anything other than getting at least a penny a week.

Before you knew it, Doppio had already left.

When you think about other people in the cafe that might be watching you, it feels a bit embarrassing to linger for too long. And even though it feels nice to sit down in the silence Doppio left you, you have to get a move on.

After gulping down the rest of your coffee, you leave the cup on the table and leave the cafe.

The afternoon cerulean blue sky should've felt calming or exciting. Despite being so far in the view of a height you'll never be able to reach, the sky feels like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Your heavy eyes stare at nothing while a headache settles on your forehead. The ache gets worse when you focus on it, but no sound interrupts your thoughts on this seemingly peaceful afternoon. To you, it's not.

If only you were to open your eyes and gaze at the flowers blooming by the sidewalk, maybe you'd feel better. But your mind stays more focused on the destination rather than the view that follows, and your eyes stare unfocused.

Your heels click against the hard pavement down the street. Instead of feeling free during the season known for breaks and fun, the summer heat pulls you down and makes walking feel like weight lifting. But you pull your weight with every step, and every click a sound that follows, making your way towards where Bucciarati and his team lives.

[kiefbowl]

Hey sorry I don't know why I'm telling you but just wanted to share, sorry if it's too long

I started working as an intern in this tech company and I'm kinda the only woman in the rnd department. Two weeks passed and it was pretty good but today they sent me and another intern who is a male to the department where they fix broken cards and stuff. The men in there immediately started talking to the intern and asking him to come check out their work cause it would be a great opportunity for him. They showed him the machines and i just tagged along, both me and the guy tried to tell them that i am too an engineering intern but they just ignored. I tried to tell him that i was interested and had similar classes but he didn't even listened or looked at me. I felt kinda weird cause i never really experienced something like this just wanted to share cause I don't know what i was supposed to do.

Sorry you experienced that. That's some old school sexism for sure, and you're bound to run into it some more as you enter the work force. Fortunately, a lot of these old school guys are headed out (which doesn't mean misogyny in the work force is defeated...but you know...we take our wins where we can).

My advice to you: report it. Report it to your direct manager and/or HR. I'm not saying it's a magical fix all in all work places, but if you do nothing, nothing can be done about it. At the very least, it will probably motivate someone to speak to him, like "hey man, you can't obviously treat our female interns differently, and we don't want to hear about this again." Convos like that might make someone salty, but also not want to push their luck a second time. Or not, but again you can only guarantee nothing will happen only if you do nothing.

In the moment, your milage may very, but trying to just point blank in a friendly and professional way ask him to clarify why he won't show you something can really put the pressure on them to admit out loud their sexist beliefs, which they know they shouldn't do. Things like "Did you not hear my question? Are you ignoring me on purpose?" or "I just explained I'm an intern as well, is there a reason you won't demonstrate this to me as well?" or even "I feel like you're treating me differently than him, I hope it's not because I'm a woman" and just leave the unspoken part hang awkwardly in the air for him to puzzle out.

As always, this is easier to imagine and write about than to do in the moment. Don't beat yourself up if someone catches you off guard by being an asshole. Know that YOUR job as intern is to get experience and education, and you do not have to suffer fools that get in your way. If you need to get engineering knowledge out of this guy, be an annoying fly in his ear. Buzz buzz, I'm here for 8 more weeks and if you don't show me how to calibrate this thingy-ma-bob today, I'll just be knocking on your door tomorrow, buzz buzz. Who cares if he walks away thinking women are annoying or whatever, it's your future and you can't change his mind.