#i love my job i really do but also (muffled screaming)

[threnodians]

new sleep meds had absolutely zero (0) effect even though i took the higher dose so i ate a quick snack and took my regular meds and now i am going to attempt to get some sleep

[zerobaselove]

you're worth it | han yujin

pairing: yujin x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1001

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread!

notes: yujinnnnn!! my little guy ugh he is just so cutie i am so devastated. anyways this was so fun to write as i procrastinate getting ready for work LMAO so i hope y'all like it <3 thank u anon for this idea it was so lovely (i know i didn't go too in depth w the actual sleepover part im SORRYYY)

you didn't consider yourself someone who got nervous particularly easy. especially not when it involved your best friend yujin. everything was easy with him. was. before you had developed a little crush on the boy.

you had done a pretty good job at ignoring the way your heart would speed up when you caught him looking at you, or when your hands brushed when you walked side by side. but you weren't sure if that same ignorance would hold up for tonight, your first sleepover at his place.

it's not a big deal. you repeated in your head. repeating the phrase like a mantra as you approached the door for his dorm. you had met a couple of his roommates in passing but the idea of meeting so many new people definitely didn't help the nerves that bubbled up in your chest.

raising your hand you knocked on the door a few times, the once silent apartment erupted in muffled noises. screams, maybe? you considered, not even having a moment to consider why there would be screaming before the door opened to yujin with a sheepish grin on his face.

you almost didn't notice the swarm of other guys standing in the apartment with wide grins on their faces. some giggling to themselves or whispering, while one you recognized, hanbin, lightly hit them on the arm in an attempt to get them to stop. you couldn't help but giggle at the group of boys, giving them a small wave before greeting yujin.

yujin hadn't realized why you were giggling until he turned around to walk with you into the apartment, letting out a groan, "please just ignore them they're being annoying." he put emphasis on the last word, some of the boys feigning offense, hands over their chests like they had just been betrayed.

"we just wanted to meet your little friend," one said with a wiggle of their eyebrows, "is that so bad?"

yujin let out another huff before reluctantly introducing you to the group. you soon learned the two giggling to each other were gyuvin and gunwook. everyone was so nice and welcoming to you that you immediately felt at ease there. the teasing remarks to yujin also seemed to help as you all laughed together for a bit.

who you remembered to be matthew spoke up as he faced you and yujin, "yujin you're really gonna let them stand there carrying their bags this whole time? not very gentlemanly of you." he shook his head, jokingly wagging his finger as he told him off causing a laugh to leave your chest before you insisted it was okay and that you didn't mind.

"no he's right, you can put your stuff in my room, follow me." yujin smiled shyly, leading you to his bedroom. you both tried to ignore the whistles and whispers from the boys behind you as the door shut behind you both.

yujin sat on his bed with a sigh, "sorry about them, they're a lot." he chuckled. you put your bag at the end of his bed before plopping down next to him.

"don't apologize," you reassured him with a smile, "they're really fun actually, i was more worried if they'd like me or not."

he turned to you with a smile, "oh don't worry, they loved you before you even got here." you let out a relieved sigh before you took a moment to process what he had said, raising an eyebrow.

"yujin," you smirked, holding back a giggle "do you talk about me to them?"

his eyes widened at the accusation, knowing deep down what it implied about his feelings towards you. "well," he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, "you see," his voice trailed off.

"so that's a yes?" you giggled, placing your hand on his, "don't worry, i think it's cute." as soon as the word cute left your mouth yujin started stuttering some denial as his eyes darted between you and your hand on his.

watching the way his brain started malfunctioning, you knew you were the only chance of this conversation continuing, so you opened your mouth again, feeling more confident now. "i don't know if you know this jinnie," the nickname rolling off your tongue so naturally, "but i like you, a lot."

you watched as he processed your confession, a wide smile spreading across his face. "oh!" he exclaimed, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, "i uh," his hand squeezed yours lightly, looking for reassurance, "like you too, also a lot." you giggled at the boy in front of you, his smile becoming infectious, soon mirroring his wide grin.

"well good," you smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek, "now let's head back out there before they start getting the wrong idea." you didn't even give him time to think about the small romantic action before you dragged him up and to his door.

what you weren't expecting as you opened the door was the sight of 8 boys toppling over each other. yujin let out a whine at their antics, "were you guys listening to our whole conversation?" he exclaimed, not even that surprised that they would do such a thing.

"pffft no way! we were just,"gyuvin glanced around the hallway, "uhm," his voice lowered to a whisper, "gunwook help me out."

gunwook perked up, straightening out his tshirt, "we were just expecting the door hinges," he said nonchalantly, "one of them has been squeaking and we were trying to see which one it was." he came up with the excuse so quickly and with such confidence that you almost believed him.

you both laughed as you shook your head and walked past the group of boys, making your way to the kitchen, "you might wanna get used to stuff like that, especially since you'll probably be coming over more." yujin smiled as he grabbed your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"don't worry yujin, you're worth it."

[mercy-burning]

Christmas Miracles

Mercy’s Ficmas 2024 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer aims to comfort you after a rather explosive breakup with your boyfriend during your Christmas party. Category: Fluff Content: Yelling, sad Reader, drunk Penelope (she's my fav, what can I say), a mistletoe kiss, Spencer is a yearner (he is also my fav, what can I say) Word Count: 2.6k

The first day of Ficmas has arrived! I'm starting you off strong with some short 'n sweet fluffy pining goodness <3 (who am I lmao)

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

It's not uncommon for the holidays to be a lonely, depressing time for some. It's covered up in ribbons and bows and sparkling lights, but really, under the surface can lie a lot of darkness.

Spencer can see that in you— Not just this holiday season, though it's apparent now more than ever just how unhappy and exhausted you seem. When you're at work day after day, constantly thinking about and putting away criminals, and even then you seem more happy than you do when you're around your significant other, that's when there's a problem. And surely you must know how your friends have noticed... There's no way you couldn't have; It's practically all of your jobs to notice.

Still, you don't say or change anything about it.

He knows it isn't his place, but Spencer wonders why. His heart breaks for you, each and every time the jet touches down and your eyes darken with the realization that you're one step closer to going home. Home should be an escape from work, and not the other way around. Many times he's even offered to go somewhere with you as a distraction, a silent confession that screams, "I know you're not happy, but it doesn't have to be that way. You don't deserve to feel that way. And I'm here for you." Sometimes you agree and tag along, sometimes you don't. Every time, Spencer wishes you could see yourself the same way he and everyone else does.

And more than anything, he wishes that asshole of a man that calls himself your boyfriend would fall off the face of the Earth. In fact, "asshole" is too tame of a word to describe him, and "man" way too kind.

Much is apparent as the muffled argument rings high and dims the twinkling atmosphere of your apartment. The lights on your Christmas tree flicker in and out like they know that something is inherently wrong, like they're dying out and being suffocated by the thick tension.

Spencer's heartbeat flickers right alongside them, his gut twisting as your hurt and angry words cut through, sharp as a knife.

Finally, Derek's voice offers a bit of distraction, though not a very good one. "So, when are you going to swoop in and save the day?"

He winces. "She doesn't want my help. I already do what I can, but... It's best to let her handle it the way she wants to."

"Seriously? She's having a miserable time at her own Christmas party because of that dickwad, and you and I both know damn well that you're the only one who's gonna be able to help her out of it."

This time, your boyfriend raises his voice, cutting you off and making Spencer jump. He looks at the ground and continues the conversation with Morgan to try and distract himself. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not..."

He can't think of the right words, though Morgan seems to get the sentiment; He playfully nudges him with his elbow. "Why not? It's not exactly a big secret that you're in love with her or anything. And besides, we all know you'd treat her a thousand times better than—"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I'm not going do anything like that; I mean, they haven't even technically broken up, anyway, so... No."

Morgan sighs, and JJ offers a thought— how the last thing a woman wants after a fight with a man is another man to swoop in and try to whisk her away, no matter how good his intentions are. Morgan explains in turn that he's not actually suggesting any flat-out advances, and in a matter of minutes, the entire BAU ends up in a discussion weighing Spencer's options.

And then, the musing amongst the group comes to a close, but only at the screeching sound of your voice.

"You know what? Then you can leave!"

There's a collective gasp, a holding of breaths and clutching of champagne glasses in anticipation of the end, which comes crashing in with a resounding and cathartic, "And don't you ever come back! We're through! I never want to see your stupid face ever again!"

The door slams, and an immediate hushed chorus of cheers is not far behind. Morgan firmly pats Spencer's shoulder, as Rossi raises his glass and muses, "It's a Christmas miracle."

The real miracle, Spencer thinks, is you; even as your spirit waltzes back into the living area in pieces. Easily the most bright and beautiful soul he's ever known, it nearly crushes him to know how awful you probably feel in that moment, for something that isn't even your fault. He sympathizes, but more than anything he wants to reassure you that nothing could ever deter his steadfast belief in the simple fact that you are the only miracle one could ever need.

Penelope rushes to your side and embraces you in a warm hug, to which you drop your gaze to your feet.

"I'm sorry... I ruined your night."

"My dear, you've ruined absolutely nothing," Rossi offers gently.

His words elicit a sniffle from you, and then you're turning your head into Penelope's shoulder, hiding your face and slumping full-force into her arms. JJ and Emily rush over and pile on in a group hug, handing their drinks to Hotch. He's stayed verbally neutral over the situation, but Spencer can see the relief and hope resting in his expression as your grief slowly dissipates. A Christmas miracle, indeed, his smile seems to say.

The lights on the tree seem to brighten at the breath of fresh, unwavering life in the atmosphere that feels very much like love. A proper family. A support system. A warmth.

Spencer feels that warmth vibrantly in his fingertips— Even hours later in the cold, out on your balcony as he mindlessly observes the city below, every sharp breath of December air filling his lungs in slow, steady cycles. New snow isn't falling, but the streets are glittering with what's already there, every speeding headlight making the ground dance below him.

He wishes it were more quiet; something about the eerie silence of winter and the unexplainable feeling that somehow it might heal something within himself. Everything is always so loud, even as he closes his eyes to drift off into sleep. There's always some sort of man-made noise going on, whether it be a fan, or traffic outside his window, or even the quiet rustling of Hotch's paperwork on the way home from a case. For once, he thinks, it might be nice to drift off with nothing but the winter wind carrying him to sleep.

For now, though, he settles for car engines and crunching snow and the muffled bellows of joy beyond your patio door.

The joy crescendos for a moment, and Spencer turns his head to catch your glowing silhouette emerging from the door. The warmth he feels only pulses, hotter and brighter than before.

"There you are," you exclaim softly, stepping outside and closing the door. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

"Not really," he muses.

You take stance beside him, crossing your arms and overlooking the streets just as he'd been doing moments before. A soft smile ghosts over your lips, and on a breath out, your shoulders relax. "Great view, huh?"

"It is," Spencer confirms. "It's certainly better than the buildings I get to look at."

The laugh that escapes you in a cloud of visible air is quite possibly the most beautiful sound to him, especially when it's because of something he said. If he could indulge in the pleasure of making you laugh for the rest of his life, he would take the chance in a heartbeat.

"Well, then you're welcome on my balcony any time."

"Thank you," he says, trying not to give himself away as he feels the butterflies creeping their way in. With a nervous smile, he clutches his scarf. "I'll hold you to it. It's a nice balcony."

He kicks himself for that last part, inwardly cursing his inability to filter out the awkward, unnecessary sentences. He could keep talking and make it worse, but he ultimately decides that scrunching his nose in shame and passing it off as being chilled is the better choice. If you notice, you don't let on.

Taking that as a good sign, Spencer tries to relax. He breathes out, and you turn to him. "Are you... having a good time tonight?"

"Of course I am," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean, you throw a great party."

You laugh again. This time the sound huffs out of you with a resounding sadness that cracks his heart once more. "It's not anything, really— just some lights, music, and drinks... But thank you anyway."

Before he has time to think better of it, Spencer calls you out by name, quick to defend you. But then he pauses, unsure of what else to say. He doesn't want to bring up your breakup and make you feel worse, but... what else can he do? The only thing that feels right is the need to remind you how inherently good you are.

So, that's what he does.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. I... We all love you and we're glad to be with you, regardless of how... grand it is. Just being yourself is grand enough. You don't even need the lights or the drinks, or... him. You're better than all of those things combined."

At first you look pained, the mention of your ex-boyfriend exacting immense pressure on a fresh bruise, and Spencer almost regrets it— almost; Your features soften moments later as his words settle in and seem to melt away the pain, revealing a layer of disbelief and confusion. And then, softness.

Your lip trembles as you struggle to speak. "You don't... have to... say that."

"Yes. I do." As firmly as he possibly can while still being gentle, he reaches out and clutches your hands with his own. He hopes that whatever warmth he has immediately draws itself to you and wakes you up. He wills it to comfort you and make you see—make you feel. His fingers are desperate in their pursuit to love you, their grip unwavering and brimming with hope.

When your eyes meet his, he nearly collapses. There's so much love and relief and bewilderment sparkling in them that he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to get lost in their depths—to explore and study each emotion until he knows every aspect of you. He almost forgets how to speak for a moment, his mouth dry and the concept of what he wants to tell you being clear as day, reflected in your eyes, as the words themselves slowly become less tangible.

All he can manage to say is the simple, unabashed truth. The love he has for you rests perfectly within those three words, anyway. They ring out and linger in the December air, floating softly around you like a feather, until it lands on your nose and wakes you up from your deep, dark reverie, releasing you into the light once again.

"You're utterly remarkable."

You clutch onto his hands like you've just been pulled from a frozen lake, grasping for any semblance of stability, and he's right there to guide you as you draw yourself closer to him. His heart beats loud and fast as you sigh out and smile, tears welling in your glimmering eyes.

"Thank you, Spencer," you breathe out sincerely in a broken whisper.

He smiles back at you, a weight lifting from his chest as he tells you, "Of course." As if it's the most natural thing in the world to express how wonderful you are.

A sudden burst of energy comes sweeping across the balcony as a loud, bellowing voice makes an expression of their own. It's Penelope, giggling and bubbly as ever.

"Hey! You two! It's present time! Get your pretty faces in here pronto!"

She's gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving the door open a crack as you laugh and drag Spencer by the hand to follow.

He's grateful for the shift in activity, unsure how much longer he could have been out there alone with you before he said something he regretted. Not that he'd been looking for anything theatrical by any means, but in truth, the entire evening feels like it had been a movie, wrapped up in a neat little bow as the two of you cross the threshold into the rolling credits. The rest of his feelings he could deal with tomorrow, but for now, he's satisfied with this conclusion.

You stop as you approach the door, huffing a short laugh.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as you let go of him and turn around, plucking something from the panel of wood. From your delicate finger hangs a bundle of mistletoe. It sways gently in the wind before you clutch it in the palm of your hand.

"I always come out here after a fight... Guess I figured he might try to make it up to me or something... Like I knew he was going to let me down again..."

The words are sad, but your tone drips with amusement, or something close to it. You feel the plant in your hand, looking down at it and then back at Spencer.

His body freezes under your gaze, the implications sending him into a numbing warmth that both pleases and scares him in equal measure.

"You never let me down," you continue, stepping closer and interlocking his hand with yours, the mistletoe trapped in between. "I want to thank you for that."

Your face leans in, and at this point his heart is beating so loudly he can hear it drowning everything else out. He can barely hear himself stutter out, "It's not a problem, really... And I know you just got out of a relationship, so... You don't have to..."

"Yes. I do."

You kiss his cheek, firmly and quickly, and yet you don't fully retreat. Your lips linger near his jawline, and you squeeze his hand and whisper, "Thank you," against his skin.

He can feel the words worming their way into his pores and leaving trickles of static in their wake, spreading through him like lightning. Their sincerity moves him, and drives home your miraculousness with such force that he can't help but tilt his head down and capture the lips that uttered them in a swift, soft kiss of his own.

You press yourself into him effortlessly, a gesture that makes him wish he had the ability to stop time and keep it trapped in the palm of his hand and yours, like the mistletoe. He could spend forever in this moment if he were granted it.

But alas, time cannot be stopped, and neither can Penelope Garcia.

She bangs on the door and yells impatiently again. "Presents!"

You and Spencer break away in a collective laugh. He feels lightheaded and lovesick, every nerve ending alight with your essence.

"Okay, okay!" you yell over your shoulder, removing yourself from him completely this time and taking the mistletoe with you. You shove it in his coat pocket with an adorable scrunch of the nose and shuffle inside.

The moment you're out of sight, pulled back into the party and leaving him alone on the balcony to follow, he finally breathes out. And the slow inevitable smile that break out over his face feels bright enough to light the entire city.

The mistletoe hums vibrantly in his pocket through the rest of the night—his very own tangible reminder of a miracle; That time, for one brief moment, could stand still.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 8 part 2 of 3

masterpost

“I will work with Black Bat?” Robin paused, looking between her and their Batdad. Batdad was still in his slippers and sweatpants.

He nodded at Robin. “That’s correct.”

“Finally,” Robin said. “A professional.” He turned on his heel to dismiss their Batdad from the conversation. “I will go suit up.” He waited a moment for her acknowledgement, not approval.

Cass gave him a double thumbs up. When he was out of sight she made eye contact with her Batdad and waggled her eyebrows at him. He did a big sigh. “Thank you for taking care of your little brother,” he said, because he meant well but he was really very silly about things. Robin did not need taking care of. Robin needed a place to jump and scream and bite.

She just nodded. No point in explaining.

Black Bat took the wait time to read through the most basic details of the ongoing case. The takeaway was: boring mission. Look at mechanic with her eyes. Take footage of his face. Find his name or other biographical information. Look at any ongoing projects to determine if anything required immediate action. Do not engage. Do not reveal self. Do not fight mechanic.

Boring!!!

It took very little time for Robin to ready himself. Damibat was a true professional, despite the sentimental wishes of the old people.

He spoke to her in sotto voce when they had gathered. “I admit relief.” Robin flicked his mask into place. “I am weary of being quashed by the authoritarian impulses of my…betters.” His disgust was clear. His tone and shoulders said: 

I miss Richard. My Father is a fool and Alfred is constraining my artistic soul. The regulations are unending. I do not feel confident of my survival in these conditions. I was forbidden to take home the tiger even though I saw it first. I may wilt.

Poor baby. Her face twisted with empathy. He did deserve the tiger. He would love it very well.

“Wanna drive the Batmobile?” Cass asked.

His sorrow lightened infinitesimally. “I cannot reach the pedals in order to operate it correctly. However, we could take the new cycles.” Robin scrolled to the right inventory item. “I took the liberty of customizing the paint jobs.”

Cass peered over his shoulder. “Ooh,” she said. Shiny. Spiky. “Looks fast. Let’s go.”

“No,” said Brucedad, from a distance. “Take a two person motorcycle and have your sister drive it. You do not have a license, Robin, you are 13.”

Robin made a sound of disgust, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I am beset by enemies,” he muttered. He stomped away towards their limited options.

Black Bat aimed a disapproving look at her Batdad. “You are crushing his artistic soul,” she informed him. 

“That’s a burden I will have to bear,” Batdad said gravely, and put on his reading glasses.

She hissed at him but they took one of the approved models out. 

Robin further debriefed her on a private channel on their ride into town, voices muffled to the outside world by their protective helmets.

“One of the previously uninfluential local gangs has been gaining territory and members in recent months. We have attributed this to an influx of unique tools they have access to, which have so far been unconventional tools.”

“Tools for what?” Cass took a hard left turn at a lean and let her fingertips trail just barely over the pavement.

“Excellent,” Robin said about the turn, and then, “they have been used to commit robberies. However, the designs are concerningly martial.”

He did not sound remotely concerned. He sounded approving. Cass asked for clarification with an upwards lilting “Mmm?”

“There was a bazooka that shot temporary voids,” Robin said, sounding young and excited. “They were used to bypass a bank vault and to intimidate a teller.”

Cass lifted her eyebrows and nodded. She could see why Brucedad would be antsy about bazookas, even if they didn’t hurt people. 

“There was also a device that created a foam which immobilized those it was deployed against by creating a sort of calcification effect. It ended naturally after a period of hours, but no technique we employed before that seemed to have a weakening effect on the substance. We were unable to attain samples.”

Cass hummed, feeling a little depressed about tonight’s mission after all. Science. Evil science. She was a little burnt out on evil science. She felt tired at the thought. This wasn’t fun.

Damibat noticed. He was silent for a few seconds. “After we confirm the location of the workstation, we could go to the docks,” Robin suggested.

She perked up a little bit. 

There was always someone to fight at the docks. Always a drug deal, smuggling big bad things, always something.

“Good plan.” 

“We will inform Batman afterward.”

Black Bat nodded her agreement. He didn’t need all the details of their schedule in live time. 

She felt a lot better driving out into the night with something to look forward to.

[geombyu]

GOJO SEES YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT !

Pairing. student!gojo x student!gn!reader

Genre. fluff, friends to hinted lovers perhaps

Word count. 0.6k | Warnings. swearing, the reader is smaller than gojo (the shirt is big on them)

A/N. i see a lot of these and like 7/10 times theyre smut LMAOAO so i wanted to write a fluff ver! i also did Not think id be writing for jjk but 😭 ig we are + not rlly proofread sorry :(

Today was Gojo's day off, and what better way to start it than waking up at four pm?

He was a busy guy - despite only being in high school - he's already taken on many jobs, it was only right he could get sixteen hours of sleep.

When he arrived at your shared dorm at twelve in the morning, you were already asleep, so when he got out of his room and laid his eyes on you wearing his t-shirt, he couldn't help but gasp.

"Oh, hey Satoru." You spoke, sparing him a quick glance before going back to cooking. His mouth was still wide open; he couldn't respond—he tried, but he couldn't. No sound could leave him. Who knew all it took for the strongest to be left speechless was the sight of you in his shirt?

You look back at him, seeing how his jaw was still on the floor, you realize it was probably because of what you were wearing right now.

"Oh! This? Sorry," you chuckle, "none of my clothes have been washed yet—call me gross, whatever—so I decided to steal from your wardrobe. Hope you don't mind." You stuck your tongue out before placing the eggs on a plate.

You moved to put the plate on the dining table, giving him a better view of you in his shirt. It fit him so perfectly, so seeing it so big on you absolutely made his heart melt.

There was a light tint of pink on your friend's cheeks now; you were so cute he felt like he was going to pass out.

"Are you okay with just eggs? There's more stuff but I wanna save them for next time—oh, actually, you might not be here tomorrow…" You mumbled the last part, choosing to ignore how he still hasn't responded to any of your sentences.

Gojo tried to get a word out, but all he could manage was a strange, strangled noise, which you respond to with a confused hum. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't organize any of his thoughts. He was screaming over and over in his head, but there was a thought slightly bigger than the rest (the rest which consisted of AAAA's, OH MY GOD's, and WHAT THE FUCK's)—that thought was: "holy fuck you're so adorable," which was also exactly what he just blurted out.

Now it was your turn to be flustered, "I—what?"

Gojo's eyes widen before he covers his face with his hands, his face now fully red. "Ignore what I just said," his voice was muffled, but you could still hear what he said.

You never thought you'd see the Gojo Satoru blushing so deeply with his face in his hands, but here he is. You laugh, "can you repeat that?" You were teasing him, I mean, it's not every day that this happens, but any more teasing and his heart might actually blow up.

"Y/n, shut up—oh my God—I hate you!"

"I thought you said I was adorable? Or do you hate cute things?"

He yells into the palms of his hands.

Although you're being bold right now, him calling you adorable caused your brain to shut down for a good millisecond. Gojo complimented you all the time, but somehow, this felt different.

You walk to where he's standing right now, hands still covering his pretty face. You put your hand on his, and the feeling of your warm and soft hands comfort him.

He could tell you wanted to pull his hands away, and while he didn't want that, he was so weak to your touch.

He had no other option but to give in, so he did. You put his left hand away first, then the right. With his hand still in yours, you softly spoke, "if that's the case, then you must really hate yourself."

Oh, he was so in love with you.

© geombyu

[queenendless]

😂Ticklish Remedy(Student!SatoSuguxStudent!Fem!Reader)😂

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get out! I gotta write more JJK tk fics in the future. This one I rushed, it's true.

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, more exposition than tickles but obvious tickles, mention of reader gaining seer vision cursed technique powers for possible future plot development, Shoko Ieiri cameo, and SatoSugu poly loving.

Credit for characters and art used goes to Gege sensei.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy.

Why were you in such a pathetic mood?

Waking up from a messed up dream in a cold sweat?

Coming back from a mission where more damage than saving was done?

Or a hard downpour out of nowhere soaked you and would be around for the remainder of the evening?

All of the above.

In this life, you are the quiet, sweet protective being. But it takes certain things to set you off. All of the above, for instance.

Another big one would be the only friends turned found family you ever had and known getting harmed in any way, whether from slander from those foolish higher ups or certain corrupted humans you were obligated to save and not harm for retribution despite getting injured on the job because of them. Those indeed pissed you off.

That wasn't the case this time.

Nah, you're just having one of those days.

You had just left the shower, clad in a dry tee shirt and short shorts, going stomach first flopping on your dorm room bed in a downtrodden sense, when a loud knock on your door made you moan in refusal, smothering your face in your pillow.

"L/n? Sweetie? Y/n-chaaaaaan~?!"

Satoru's loud rambles; his voice always making you smile, now sounded irritating to you. "Go away." Your muffled yell made a new voice join in.

"Y/n? Honey? Are you alright?"

Suguru's concerned voice made you feel bad at behaving this way towards them when it wasn't their fault at all. "Not really."

"Excuse us. We're coming in." Suguru's warning was followed by your dorm room door sliding opening as their heads popped up through behind the door, your weak wave giving them the prompt to just come in.

They were both still in uniform but also in socks and slippers, as Satoru flopped down, jostling the bed, before spooning you from behind and Suguru sliding your door closed before sitting on the edge of the bed in front of you and held your hand in his; rubbing comforting circles on your knuckles with his thumb when he asked.

"How bad?"

Your hesitant sigh didn't bode well. "I was sent alone to exorcize a second-grade curse spirit after it ended several regulars working at a cemetery."

"Yaga-sensei told us." Suguru's pitying gaze made you whine weakly. "We're sorry we couldn't go with you."

Flashes of your nightmare from early morning resurfaced; your pinched expression being a sign of your discomfort. "The same nightmare happened again. Just … bloodied corpses … of those I care for …that shadowed, stitched forehead bastard's smile ... and I'm unable to move or scream or do anything …" Your voice wavered as your form trembled with a deep-rooted frustration and pain on this particular dilemma.

You still had no freaking idea who or what it was; human or cursed spirit, let alone why you kept having these dreams. A warning? Perhaps. You were slowly climbing up the ranks in terms of developing your Innate technique; as odd as it was in getting impactful visions followed by side effecting migraines. And this was yet another unknown future threat standing in your way.

"Plus I got rained down hard coming back here. So there." You pouted, taking Suguru's hand in your own, just to splat it over your face, amusing the latter despite the gloomy vibe.

"That bad, huh? God, quite the depressing mood bundle you are!" Satoru sighed loudly.

You jammed your thumb over your shoulder into Satoru's cheek, dryly retorting. "Obnoxious creep." You thrusted your pointer finger of the same hand forward in Suguru's face. "Weird bangs guy."

"Now sweetie, I know you're just saying those things because you're down in the dumps… but it still wounds me!" Satoru mockingly cried out, ruffling your hair, further driving the point of getting stabbed in the feels.

"Honey, you're wrong. About my bangs, I mean. Satoru … nah that's right on the mark." Geto poked your nose, smirking like the smart ass he is, rubbing salt in the wound.

"Hey!" Gojo flared up, dagger eyes on his bestie at the betrayal.

You snorted at their interaction. Satoru's face stubbornly set in a pouting expression, when the sound you just made gave him quite the amusing idea as he kissed your forehead down from up above you. "So, what you need right now is some serious cheering up, 101."

A twisted smile suddenly wormed up on his face. It makes your gut squirm with nerves.

"Suguru~" The sing-song tone to his name snatched the younger man's attention. "It seems our lovely girlfriend is too grumpy for our liking~!"

The same twisted feeling inside you doubled as Suguru smiled at you in the same manner.

"Yes … we should remedy that right away."

Able to read each other's thoughts down pat; synced as the best friends they are, meant they were both on board for their evil agenda.

"Uh, chotto matte," Your Nihongo Jouzu reflexes came spilling out as nervous giggles did as well, fidgeting as your attempts to get up and pull away from Satoru's hold were futile for his arms tightened around your waist and pulled quick enough to flush your back against his front. "Not that. Anything but that!"

"Y/n-chan … if you plead more, I'll consider it." Suguru calmly mused as he climbed up on your bed, trapping your legs in between his knees, coyly smiling. "Maybe~"

A squeal sprung free from your lips as the spider-like fingers of Satoru squeezed your sides before wriggling into your ribs. "I'd rather she beg. After all, she wants this so much~!" Satoru smugly taunted, that fat ass smirk plastered on his face when you jabbed your elbow hard in his side.

"Liar liar pants on fire – AAH~!" Your retort was cut off by your own shriek as Satoru's fingertips slithered around to deeply drag across your belly.

"Oh ho, you're gonna get it now!" Satoru's deepened tone spoke doom for you. Suguru's snickers only added to it.

Your spastic, laughing form was kicking, flailing, and bouncing to both their inner amusement and glee; the bed squeaking and the headboard hitting the wall many times in the process.

"Cootchie cootchie coo~!" Satoru's fingers slid through your shirt sleeves to pinch and wring the bare skin of your armpits.

"Tohohohohoru you ahahahahahass~!" You slam your shoulders into his in another attempt to push him off, but that lean skinny bode hid such strength beneath.

"Hey! I have a fine ass, I'll have you know!" Gojo's pursed lips were made to good use as he began doing raspberries from the crook of your neck to the base of it to under your ear, speaking in between every tingling blow. "Very. Fine. Indeed!" His snowy hair added to the ticklish sensation as his puffy locks brushed your cheek.

"You twohoohoo beheheheheter stahahahap or I swehehehear I'll – EEK~!" You squeaked harder as Suguru exchanges wiggling squeezes between your shaking kneecaps and your thighs. "Suhuhuhuhugu qu – quihihihit it~!!"

Geto snorted. "Jackass is more like it."

"Your face up my ass the other day spoke otherwise, if you recall~" Satoru's buzzing wet lips pulled from your neck to give bedroom eyes to Suguru.

Who returns the look, just as gluttonous for another go. "The face you made proves you enjoyed it just as much~"

Their raunchy talk was halted as a pillow got whacked in Suguru's face, followed by said pillow being thrown to Satoru's, who barely caught it in one hand. But that enough commotion lets you slip free from his loosened grasp.

Though the truth was he let you go free for now, laughing slowly at the look of sheer disbelief on his raven haired lover's face at what you just pulled, the more bangs loosely gracing his forehead from the commotion.

"Ooh, you're in trouble~!" Gojo singing spoke of doom.

Your panting, pink cheeked self could only have a moment's reprieve as chills raked your skin at the dark edge tainting Suguru's almond eyes. Unlike the smile in your nightmares, bearing callousness and insanity, Suguru's bore a more eerily calm smiling face.

"Indeed … it's on."

He dodged the kick to his face by your freed foot, toothily smiling as he caught your ankle, viewed your squirming foot with scrutinizing intrigue, before dragging his finger up and down your sole lightly enough to have you become a cute chortling mess.

Your other foot moved to kick his arm to free yourself when Gojo snatched it straight away, clicking his tongue to scold you. "Naughty, naughty~"

The two looming devils you love jumped you!

Shoko Ieiri, twirling her non lite cigarette between her fingers, jumped at the ear-piercing scream striking the air of the dorm, high tailing to the source as curiosity beckoned her.

Discovering the loud slamming ruckus jumbled in as well, it all is coming from your room followed by your jumbled cackling wordplay in the mix had her sliding the door open, her cigarette nearly slipping from her grasp at the sight she just witnessed.

You were flipped to lay on your stomach, laughing your sweaty red face off, as both those bastards each straddled a thigh of yours, with a footsie for each to tickle savagely.

"And this is why I stopped questioning why this is your norm now." Shoko shrugged.

"She whacked us with her pillow!" Suguru gruffly complained as his fingers wringed through your toes.

"Hilarious move on her part but she did wound my pride." Satoru's mirthful grin then drooped as his pride did deflate. "So, retribution!" Killing your restraint as he nibbled on your padded piggies.

"SHOHOHOHOHOHOHOKO~!!! MAHAHAHAHAHAKE THEHEHEHEHEHEM STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP~!!!"

Your flailing calves nearly whacking them were immediately taken care of as their forearms wrapped around them to hold them in place, their hands squeezing your ankles in their ironclad grip. Suguru nibbled and dragged his teeth and tongue down your wrinkled sole while Satoru's lips and tongue suckled and wriggled between your toes.

"PLEHEHEHEHEHESE HAHAHAHAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEHEHERCY~!!!"

"Yeah, as the resident healer of our group, I see the telltale signs she's gonna pass out at this rate." Shoko nearly toppled over you as your hands needed some support to dig and squeeze your fingers in something to keep your unhinged self-grounded.

Suguru hummed in contemplation. "Hmmm … while seeing and hearing our love in this state does please me greatly, this overall was supposed to cheer her up."

"Your cheering up brand is quite savage indeed." Shoko's apathetic tone made them both stifle a groan; Satoru's vibrating through your foot made you squeal louder, as he finally popped his mouth off your saliva covered minies.

"Alright, alright! We will," Satoru gave a big wet smooch to your topside. "I'd say we're even now."

Suguru kissed your other topside in the same manner, before their arms released your calves, moving off your thighs so they could lay your legs fully down on your rustled sheeted bed.

You breathed in and out your relief as tranquility came at last; giggles from ghost tickles slipping in, releasing your hold on Shoko's arm to fold yours and use them as your personal resting pillow. "Ah … f … freedom … thank you." You were now more exhausted but less depressing. Pro? Perhaps. For now, anyway.

"Y/n." You leaned your head into Satoru's smooth warm hand as he brushed your hair strands sticking to your forehead aside, rubbing your forehead before brushing your hair back in gentle motions, as he flopped down on his stomach on your right side, resting his cheek on his free forearm, the vibrant Six Eyes looking at you over his lowered shades, straightforward truth teeming in them. "In this life, you can't save everyone."

You frowned at that, blunt and to the point, when Suguru also flopped down the same way on your left side, his giant firm hand rubbing massaging circles on your back, surging with tender care, bringing blessed sighs out of you, as his eyes met yours next, teemed with solace. "Nor will the fear of the unknown go away just like that."

"We can't promise that nothing will happen to all of us later on down the line, either." Satoru's distaste for it showed.

"But we can promise that when they do, come what may, we'll give it our all." Suguru's empathy shined through in his beautiful almond eyes.

"We have to in order to be the strongest duo, after all." Satoru chuckled as his cheek nuzzled yours.

"Eh? And me?" You pouted.

"Then trio." Suguru pecked your lips just to see that smile of yours blossom.

"Ahem!" Shoko fake coughed, sitting against the front of the bed on the floor, plopping her head back, lips puckered and batting eyes at you all in fake sadness.

"Okay, squad then! Point being! Whatever comes our way, we face it together, as best we can. We are there for each other. None of us should be alone. Right?" Satoru's sincere toothy smile sealed the deal.

You sighed deeply. "Fine … but any more savage tickling cheering up schemes in the future are off the table! I swear to God –!"

"Hai hai." The duo agreed in unison as they each pressed a deep noisy smooch to your cheeks.

"Ehem." Shoko pointed at her own face, wanting smooches too. That brought laughs out of all three of you before you kissed her forehead, and the guys kissed her cheeks.

The downpour had finally ceased, and you fell asleep from the tiring experience that toppled the rest.

"Too precious for this kind of life, she is." Shoko smiled faintly as the guys kept their eyes on yourself, softly breathing, slowly lifting and lowering your slumbering self.

"Suguru? Those dreams of hers …"

"Premonitions, you mean?"

Satoru nodded. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"She could be a cursed Seer of sorts. See the future and all that." Shoko interjected.

"Her cursed energy has been increasing. Her output as well. Still … I say we keep close to her. Keep our guard up." Suguru suggested.

"And if Yaga-sensei sends her out solo tasking again?" Satoru dreaded that possible outcome.

"We should inform him of this. If a possible dire threat does arrive in our future, I'd suggest one of us go with her on missions just in case. We both can handle solo missions just fine."

"Then I call dibs~!"

Suguru's eyes narrowed intensely. "My idea, my dibs."

Satoru flared up. "Eh~?!"

Your groggy stirring mumbles alerted the bois to keep it down, your settling down leaving them puffing out their reliefs.

"Compromise then, Satoru~?"

Said man groaned. "You're lucky you're you."

Suguru chuckled at that before smooching his snowy haired lover over your resting head.

"Your throuple is a cursed miracle in and of itself, alright." Shoko murmured, toying with the cig between her lips.

Your throuple life story.

Cursed miracle indeed.

[writingoddess1125]

I am your Biggest Fan~ Pt. 2

WARNINGS: NON-Con, $mut, Face-Fuck, Spit as Lube, Hair Pulling, Dom!Buggy, Unprotected sex, DEAD-DOVE, Tsundare Buggy

Dirty Nasty $mut is below. Be warned ⚠️

I may have went overboard with the length- Also my first time writing $mut! Please tell me how I did and what you'd like to see next!

Buggy the Clown x GN Reader

Part 1: Biggest Fan Pt. 1

Buggy grinned as he stared down at (Y/N) keeping barely any space between the two of them as he bit up and down their neck. Listening to the mild hisses in pain and whimpers of fear- It was too sexy for him and made him want more.

"Captian!" A loud voice sounded making he growl and turn to see Cabaji. Holding his blades with some blood smeared on his face and costume.

"What do you want!?" Buggy Hissed in irritation.

"Sir, We have almost finished with the village. The Marines are sure to be informed" Ah right- this was a small village it wouldn't haven't taken long to pillage the place.

Buggy opened his mouth to speak but ended up getting a hard hit to his mouth as (Y/N) Slipped under his arms and tried to run. Buggy grabbing them by their hair with lightning fast reflexes yanking them back towards him- ignoring their cry for pain. Buggy growled at this as he glared down at (Y/N) before sighing-

"We set sail then, Get a move on!

He yelled at his first mate who nodded and dashed away to echo orders. Buggy gave a low chuckle at the performer, gripping their hair harder.

"Ill let you get that one for free since youre so damn cute Doll~ But looks like we are gonna have to rush our little act back to the Red Top~!"

He said cheerfully, her personality like a rubber ball constantly changing as he harshly flung them to the floor. Watching them trying to scramble for a quick second before he placed his boot on their back to pin them before looking around to for something to restrain them with. His eyes landing on the satin ribbons from the show. Snatching them quickly.

"Oh don't you love the irony~"

He grinned as he overpowered them with ease and tied the satin ribbons tightly around their hands and ankles.

"Let me go! YOU CANT DONT THIS YOU DIRTY PIR- MMHPH!"

They squealed as he shoved one of their lace fabrics into their mouth. Smirking at the sight and fluffing himself as a job well done. Quickly at the sound of the fire he grabbed the performer and tossed them over his shoulder, making sure to give their exposed ass a nice hard smack. Which earned him a angry squeal, before he took off.

Running out of the blood soaked bar and to the streets- It looked like what sidewalks in hell must. Blood, broken glass, fire and bodies- bodies of those who wouldn't be able to handle the long road of the show biz or audience left like animals on the street. (Y/N) screams muffled through the lace gag as they witnessed the carnage. Buggy laughing maniacally as he ran through those streets, sliding in the blood comically like this was another one of his performances. Seeing his crew rip the jewelry from the necks of people before either killing them or tightening harsh shackles to them.

Buggy skipped down the street till he reached his ship, Watching the new group of audience members being herded in like cattle to their final resting spots their seats. (Y/N) at this point sobbing as they were hauled away from the horror down to the Captian's room and tossed roughly on the large bed.

"Whoo! Just what I needed to get my Mojo back in seemed- Really got a full house this time!~"

He laughed, Taking off his hat and kicking his bloody boots off. Looking to (Y/N) and their pathetic form on his bed, shaking and with tears running down their cheeks

"Awww~ Baby No, No crying. I wanted to run that mascara a different way... tsk.. So messy"

The Captian grumbled, Grabbing his own little makeup bag and a hanky. He smiled down at them as he crawled towards them on the bed, Sitting before them making sure they were pinned with his legs as he chuckled at the sight of them under him. 'So cute'

He hummed as he wiped their tears away before opening the makeup bag.

"Now if you keep crying, I'm gonna have to keep doing your makeup all over again! And that's really gonna piss me off- So lets stop thay crying~"

Buggy said the last part darkly, (Y/N) staring up at Jim with pure terror as he smirked at the sight but nodded shakily. Sniffling through the lace gag as they tried to stop the tears from flowing.

"Good~ Very good sweetheart"

Carefully he reapplied the mascara and touched up the eyeshadow with what he owned which wasn't much. He pulled the lace gag from their lips and held their cheeks tightly with one hand and a firm grip

"Now stay still for this~"

He hummed, pulling out his favorite red and painted their lips perfectly. A wide grin playing as he saw his finished work, Placing another love bite to his newest toys neck but this time sinking deeper then before making (Y/N) cry out in pain as he broke skin. Pulling back to lick the blood from his teeth as he saw the mark.

"P-Please let me go- I don-"

He grabbed their face again (Y/N) flinching from his touch as he reached forward to fix their hair so they looked perfect.

"I-I don't want this- Please let me go- I'm begging"

Buggy almost rolled his eyes- if it wasn't for how adorable they were he would have slit their throat for how pathetic they sounded.

"Listen, Just so we are clear~ I am letting you live as MY plaything it's either this or I slit your throat and throw you overboard and I reeaalllyyy like you so I'd rather not waste such a pretty face"

He said with a smirk, watching the gears in the performers face as they realized the situation they were in. Giggling at the sight of realizing they didn't really have a choice, which was perfect. Reaching down to pull at the ankle restraints, tossing one peice of the satin ribbons to the side. However keeping the wrist one.

"Now nod if you understand-"

(Y/N) left their stomach sink- This was it... they either be this manic clowns play toy or end up like the poor villagers- in those shackles or worse.. They nodded shakily, Trying to hold back the want of breaking into sobs. Buggy clapped his hand happily and smiled brightly, those watercolor eyes swimming with pure joy at them understanding and in his mind agreeing- He kisses their cheek at this like a mock lovers and ran his hands down their form with a excited glee.

"You're perfect, I knew you were from the moment I laid eyes on you- So pretty and talented. And best of all you haven't even stared at my nose! I hate it when people do that, yet you never did... My name is Buggy.. Captian Buggy. I wanna hear you say it-"

He said happily, locking eyes with them again with his twisted smile. A unnatural yet beautiful smile on his lips as he stared at them.

"B-Buggy.. Captian Buggy"

They whispered back which earned another kiss to the cheek. His eyes racking their form as they sat there, one pasty on their chest, the remains of their costume with the added satin ribbons. He couldn't help but get aroused by their appearance again, chuckling darkly as he stared at them. Without saying a word he grabbed them roughly by the shoulders and pulled them off the bed, Setting them on their knees as he sat infront of.

(Y/N) Looked up at him with wide eyes, noticing the large tenting in his pants as he sat infront of her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he wanted.. Buggy chuckled as he admired (Y/N) for a moment longer before undoing his pants- Cackling as his as his cock sprung out of his pants like a spring.

"Pop Goes the Weasal~!"

Buggy cock like the rest of him was large and unruly, the head a deep pink with a base of deep blue curls. (Y/N) looked up at Buggy again, seeing him smirking at their expression of seeing this part of him.

"Don't be shy now~"

(Y/N) nodded softly, giving a small tug on the restraints for a second of hope however there was no give so that was that- Leaning forward they parted their lips and took Buggy fully into their mouth.

Their nose brushing against the unkempt blue curls as they carefully ran their tongue over the organ. Buggy grumbling out gentle moans as he stared down at them, his pupils blown up with desire as he watched them. Laying kitten licks down his cock and coming back up to gently suck on the tip of his cock, While it felt delightful Buggy was greedy and of course- Wanted more~

Grabbing their hair harshly and smiling as he slammed them down fully on his dick, feeling them squeak and gag in shock. Setting his own pace as he roughly forced their head to bob at unnatural speeds, Moaning out roughly as he did so. His hips starting to thrust into (Y/N) mouth, enjoying the sound of the mild gagging and noises escaping (Y/N).

He looked down and saw with joy the beautiful mess he had created- (Y/N) face was red with tears, messy mascara running down their cheeks and their hair a tangled mess in his gloved hands- But it was their mouth. Oh those dirty lips wrapped around his cock staining it red with lipstick that damn near made his cum right then and there.

Yanking them off his dick he watched them struggle to catch their breath, a delicate mix of his precum laying on their tongue and mix. While (Y/N) looked up at him with those watery eyes that made him burn. In his eyes they looked like a masterpiece.

"Fuck~ I don't think I can last long with you looking like that~ Guess we gotta rush the performance Baby!~"

He cackled as he quickly pulled them up to their feet by their hair smiling at the sob that broke through them. Quickly he pushed bent them over the mattress, Smirking as he made sure to tighten the satin wrist restraints and smiled.

(Y/N) panted hard, they felt their face pressed into the plush bedding of the mattress and their eyes widened as the peices started to fall into place. Glancing back as they saw Buggy undoing his shirt fully and Tossing it to the side, As well as taking off the bandana that held his hair up. Letting it fall lose down his back with a relaxed sigh before meeting the gaze of (Y/N) again with a crooked smile.

Like the survival instincts kicked back in they scrambled against the bed trying to squirm away and kicked their legs wildly. Buggy cackled and presses his lower half against their ass essentially pinning them- Using his legs to trap their own against the wooden bed frame.

"N-NO! Wait-t!"

They sobbed out but Buggy was quick in grabbing their hair again and yanking their head back.

"Now Now Now let's not make a fuss!~ I do think we've already crossed the line of no return"

He said with a laugh, using his free hand to grab their ass and pulled to give himself a nice view an access. Forgetting he hadn't removed the thong from them yet- however no matter!~ he used his thumb to move the fabric aside and grinned, 'So smart!' Ignoring the squirming from the performer begging and trying to escape he spit at the open hole before him with a grin before positioning himself.

"Good enough~"

Purring as he started to inch his way in. (Y/N) choked back a cry as they left him inch his way in, He was too large- Unfairly so! It felt like they were being split in half. That toe curling pain that borders on pleasure shot through their body as air seemed to evade their lungs.

"That's it... Fuck"

Buggy growled out from above them, Grunting as he slammed the last of himself into them having grown inpatient to wait anymore. His hands left their hair, instead positioning themselves on their hips, feeling the dig of his gloved hands into the soft bruised flesh. With barely any time to fully adjust he started to move-

A deep growl rumbled through his chest as he started to speed up the time of his thrust, (Y/N) felt hot like liquid fire was being drawed from their core from the forced pleasure pulling our rugged breathless moans as if they had been made for that sole purpose. A broken chores of moans and groans leaving their bruised lips at Buggys ruthless pace, Buggy moaned out loudly as he felt them tightening around him his hips starting to shudder.

(Y/N) babbling out incoherent moans and whimpers at the harshness of the thrust and the feeling of a orgasm so close to breaking through them.

"F-Fuck Fuck!"

He roared out, Slamming himself harder into them with a thundering speed. Pressing his chest against their back as he panted in their ear, his blue locks edged with sweat sticking to his forehead and fanning around (Y/N) as they screamed out moans- fresh tears running down their cheeks staining the mattress below as a forced orgasm ripped through their form- their body quaking from the force of the orgasm that shot through their body- Buggy grunting loudly as he slammed himself into them fully and came.

Buggy panted hard afterwards, Releasing their bruised hip and pushing how blue locks from his face. A series of panted curses leaving his lips as he pulled out of (Y/N) marveling at the damage he had done. Seeing them limp and barely functioning he scooped them up and placed them fully on the bed, Spreading their ass again to marvel at his claim.

(Y/N) laid there panting, The ache between their legs making it impossible to get comforble especially with Buggy's rough fingers rubbing against their abused hole. The world started to fade to black from the exhaustion from the day but Buggy's voice echoed around them with his twisted chuckle.

"I can't wait for tomorrow's show (Y/N)~"

Tag List-

@honey-eyed-munson

[winkliee]

Hiii im kinda new to this so im sorry if i mess up!

If u play genshin can u do the hantengu clones with a ganyu reader but if u doesn't can u do the hantengu clones taking a bath with nervous reader (nsfw) I'm sorry if this is too much😣😣😣😓😓😓

you are my first ask!! i am so sorry i do not play genshin though, but hopefully what i am presenting will be good. also i have never written a full smut scene so this was really difficult to write, idk if it's good 😭

Hot Springs

hantengu clones × nervous reader

warnings: smut, sub f!reader, praise kink, consensual non-con, size kink, somnophillia, overstimulation, loss of virginity, nipple pinching, cunninglus, aizetsu is whiny

you ran through the forests, clutching your sword. you were sure you sensed a demon just now. but where was he?

you looked around for the umpteenth time. nope, no one in sight.

the kakushi accompanying you caught up to you huffing. "y/n sama," he said panting, "you aren't fully healed yet. please take some rest."

"there is a demon here!!" you shouted at the poor kakushi, "how can i leave my duty and-"

"but there's no one in sight," the kakushi retorted. "please take some rest for the time being. i will personally inform you if i see anything suspicious."

you started to calm down a bit. "fine," you finally agreed.

the kakushi smiled at you with his masked face. "there's a really nice hot spring not very far from here. i have heard it has healing abilities. you should definitely try it."

you laughed a bit. you knew that some kakushis can be really weird, especially the one who had made the love hashira's uniform.

"you will be ogling at me, huh?"

the kakushi blushed furiously. "n-no ma'am," she said quickly calming down, "if you allow, i have been offered a job of helping some injured slayers down the hill. but i cannot leave you alo-"

"you may go," you said dismissing the kakushi.

"but-"

"i can survive myself, there are other people in need of you, you should leave."

the kakushi looked at you, before bowing deeply and leaving instantly.

you started to walk deeper into the forest in search of the spring. "i am sure it isn't far."

it wasn't. a mere fifteen minutes walk later, you found the hot spring, bubbling.

"well, i guess it's not too bad to relax," you thought as you started undressing.

the mist of the springs made you feel so relaxed, sleepy infact, as you were sure you would drowse off there.

but you were too lazy to even get out.

that is when you heard some voices from the other side. male voices.

you couldn't see them properly because of the mist, but you could figure out there was atleast four of them.

you grew nervous. after all, your swords and clothes were kept far from here in a safe area.

"maybe this is a mixed bath," you thought, even though you felt hot at the idea of being naked while there were other men in the spring.

"relax," you said to yourself. but as you heard the voices getting nearer, you couldn't help but try to slip away.

too late.

"look who do we have here~" you heard a voice through your daze, as anxiety filled you.

you looked up to a pair of green eyes, and...horns.

"demons?!" you screamed before a hand muffled your voice, as you looked up to see a yellow eyed demon too.

"how dare you use our private spring?!" the red eyes demon shouted at you.

you tried to retort back by saying that his name wasn't written there, but your mouth was still muffled by the other demon.

you read their kanji. uppermoon four...

you tried to free yourself from the hands of the yellow eyed demon, gripping him so hard that you were sure you heard his surprised yowl, but the blue eyed demon stopped you. "i am sad you are trying to hurt us," he said, with his worried face.

"heh sekido," the green eyed demon started, "looks like she's a demon slayer. she has extraordinary strength."

"i can see that you foo-"

"guys please stop fighting-"

"shut up!" the three other demons shouted in unison, as the blue eyed demon immediately became quiet.

in the meanwhile you had succeeded in freeing yourself from the yellow eyed demon's grip, and attempted to flee, but the red eyed demon, apparently sekido, grabbed you back and pulled you into the waters again.

"shit," you thought to yourself, "they are going to kill me. i can't even fight back because the mist of the spring has numbed my senses."

"how dare you come here and relax?!" sekido's voice growled.

"awww, poor girl, she didn't know," the green and yellow eyed demons laughed together.

please stay quiet karaku, urogi,"the blue eyed demon said. "let sekido handle this."

the demons ignored him, as karaku kept his arm on sekido's hand and said, "let's not kill her. today's mission was extremely difficult. let's have some fun?"

urogi on cue, asked the other demon, "what do you think, aizetsu?"

while they were conversing, you finally had a clear look at the four demons towering over you. their bodies were rather muscular, and they were naked, there semi-hard dicks dangling right before your eyes.

"looks like she's in too," you heard karaku laugh. "look at how she's staring at our cocks. she could almost drool."

your face reddened at their suggestion, as you tried to free yourself from their grips.

"well, well," said sekido, "you're not leaving without receiving your punishment."

you have no idea how much time has passed. your only recollection is that they dragged you through the mist, into the middle of the hot spring.

you couldn't even try to escape, the mist having numbed your senses completely. they groped your breasts, as urogi started sucking your nipples while groping your other breast. karaku on the other hand nipped your neck, covering them with multiple bruises and hickies. aizetsu took a place between your knees, massaging them, trying to calm down your increased pants, while kissing your thighs.

you grew more and more nervous as you watched sekido stand nearby watching you, his face was definitely angry, but, but he was smirking?

all those thoughts were erased from your mind when a finger prodded on your cunt. you looked down to see aizetsu staring up at you, with a questioning glance, wanting approval.

you understood you were already in this deep when you nodded.

quite immediately aizetsu started licking you up, his finger roughly entering your hole, which wasn't much moisturized.

"i-it hurts," your voice left in a whisper as you tried to concentrate on the pleasure karaku was giving your breasts.

aizetsu went on sucking your clit, as you gasped. demon slaying had never given you time to take care of yourself so you were naturally sensitive.

how would you ever have known that four demons would be doing this with you?

you stifled your moans as much as you could, but you let out a whine as you neared your climax.

"n-no more-"

you came on aizetsu's face, embarrassed that you couldn't stop yourself, but he didn't seem to mind as he went on sucking you.

you were in a state of daze, as you were overstimulated beyond you could take, when you felt someone push aizetsu away.

"move," karaku said, "it's my time to enjoy her," he said roughly entering you.

you screamed out a bit at the sudden intrusion, it was really painful after all.

"look sekido, i took her virginity," he laughed. you looked over at sekido with your half open eyes, and he looked very angry.

but you had no time to relax. karaku pounded into you constantly, as a string of moans erupted from you. you were surprised yourself by the noises you were making.

"isn't it huge?" karaku said leaning over to suck your boobs, while one hand snaked down to rub your clit. "my dick is ruining you, aww," he laughed at you pitifully.

you couldn't mutter out a word. you gripped on his biceps as the stimulation became too much for you to handle, and you came again.

"s-stop, aah"

you were almost passing out, but a gentle slap on your cheek woke you up, as you saw sekido taking karaku's place.

"no falling asleep now, little slayer," urogi said caressing your face, "sekido doesn't like that."

sekido wrapped his arms around your body, in a possessive manner. "don't you dare pass out," he growled. "this is a punishment," he said.

you were already scared, but sekido's length had your reeling. it was really hard to enter you, but once he had, your head was thrown back as you whined, scratching on his chest.

"what a naughty girl you are, enjoying your punishment," he mocked, "did you just come from me entering you? pathetic."

he started moving gently, but his speed altered and soon he was pounding into you like karaku, hell even faster than him.

you were on the brink of consciousness, and your body was tired when you came again and again.

"i want to try her next!" you heard urogi's delightful scream.

you moaned out loud when sekido hit a certain spot in you, and kept on doing that, as you came again.

"his growls, his growls sound so hot," you thought, as you closed your eyes when you came again from his ruthless pounding.

you slowly opened your eyes to see, aizetsu shallowly thrusting into you.

did you fall asleep? how are they still continuing?

aizetsu seeing you awake, smiled brightly.

"i was so scared you were hurt," he said, before whimpering, "y-you are so tight."

you looked around for the others. aizetsu, as if reading your thoughts, told, "they have left already. i am sorry they misbehaved. i will take care of you," he said, before whimpering as he came inside you.

"s-so warm," you threw your head back, your mind still reeling. aizetsu nipped at your neck, kissing so gently as you almost melted from his touch, unconsciously pulling him close and grinding on him.

god, this was a punishment to remember.

thank you for reading. likes and reblogs are appreciated.

[princesayumi4k]

SFW = Blue NFSW = Red

He's definitely more insecure than people see him as. Sure, he has this whole "I'm a evil villain" mentality/attitude...but he's actually quite sensitive and fearful about how others perceive him.

He has a poor diet.

He prefers cats over dogs, but would prefer bunnies over any other animal - just because he thinks he's allergic to cats.

He is fully Japanese, but isn't a very good formal speaker in the language - he mostly uses slang.

He is an amazing gamer...literally loves League of Legends with his heart.

Mommy issues mf - loves sucking your titties (if you're a girl) or just fondling them in general.

A lot of people would say the opposite, but he's a sub. He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, but still wants you to be pleasured so he lets you take control.

He doesn't have a low sex drive, which makes him a lot more horny around his s/o especially when he gets the chance. You could look at him in a certain way and he'd immediately pop a boner.

I know I said he has a poor diet, which makes his seed hard to swallow, it's more sour and salty rather than what you picture sperm to taste like.

He jerks off actually more than you would think. Sure, he's a scary villain, but he doesn't really care, he'll be laying there with you and then just pop it out and stroke it - he doesn't really care if you want to help or not.

I don't feel like he scream-moans or anything, but he's definitely a whimperer. You can lay a finger on his peen and he will let out a tiny whimper - sometimes he will jerk his body back and start shaking with a heavy breath.

In my opinion, I feel like Tomura is straight, and I'm not trying to be rude - I just feel like he prefers to be dominated by a woman.

He doesn't care if someone walks in or even teases. If someone asks if you've ever done it with him he will go straight into detail - slightly not being able to tell that what he is saying is completely tmi.

He actually doesn't like to go slow, he wants to go rough and will spit out insults and praise at the same time while you ride him or suck him off.

He doesn't like being dom often, but will voluntarily give oral. He could fall asleep if you let him.

A bad thing about him is he wants to do it anywhere and everywhere - he doesn't like quickies but if you need to pull one he doesn't mind.

He LOVES receiving hickeys, but does a sloppy job at giving them to his s/o.

The amount of dirty talk this man will give, oh my god.

Has a love/hate relationship with PDA. He doesn't want others to look at them and start shit, or look at you and imagine themselves with you, so he prefers to only sometimes flaunt you in public - he doesn't mind holding pinkies or index fingers though.

He has to wear his gloves during sex which he hates with a passion. He wants to spank you, he wants to whisper how much of a slut you are while you ride him - but his glove muffles the ass slapping and he HATES that.

He doesn't call you a lot of pet names other than dirty ones - but that's only in bed. Usually he calls you "mine", "dear", "love" and occasionally says "darling" to make you blush.

The dirty names he calls you are "slut", "bitch" and "cumslut" but he refuses to call you a whore or anything to call you nasty/dirty

Jealous Tomura is a whole different ride. He will be calm with you and once he gets jealous he will find the closest wall, bed or couch - even a counter and start making out with you, telling you to shut up. He does feel bad after though, he will just eat you out and he prefer to do it with you standing up so when you reach your high, he can watch your legs shake - and also he can smack your ass.

He isn't the best at aftercare, especially since he cries first - yes. He cries as soon as he shoots his seed inside you. But he will clean you up and kiss you once he calms down, he will even sleep with you (like actually rest) after.

He doesn't send nudes a lot, he always complains that the light is too low or he can't get the right angle, but will send a jerking off video if you ask.

He loves loves loves you with all his heart, so he will cook for you if you ask - even though he can only good pizza, noodles and mac and cheese. They are very good though.

DICK SIZE? He hates his dick size, even though it's huge for his age. A good, whopping 9.5 inches when erect, about 8.0 when flaccid.

[ihatemakingusernames]

She had been gaining slowly... steadily... For awhile now. She seemed to want to hide her new belly, larger chest, pillowy arms, and soft hips but what she couldn't hide is how much she loved to eat. Her face would light up at the thought of food, you could see how it's inviting scent caused her pleasure, and the taste... Oh the taste... She would sway to it almost as if the flavors were a symphony on her tongue.

She and I had been friends for years. I knew she had an appetite before, but the pounds had been kept at bay by her vigorous zeal for the gym. Unfortunately though, she had just gone through a rough breakup and as any good friend would, I strongly encouraged her to take care of her broken heart by staying home and binging movies and snacks.

What I didn't expect was for her to still be binging without exercise 6 months later. All her clothes had gotten tight, almost embarrassingly so. You could hear the seams of her jeans screaming as she sat down, and at every meal she desperately tried to prevent her snug shirts from rolling up to her tits as her gut expanded.

She was very shy and clearly embarrassed of her new size but she was also not planning to stop gorging herself... And packing on the pounds... Any time soon. I couldn't lie, I always thought she was gorgeous but her softening frame just made her even more beautiful. She would catch me looking at her as she ate and blush deeply trying to hide that she had noticed.

I was fine with our relationship continuing as it had, just friends. I had no intention of telling her how sexy she had become since gaining all that weight... Or how night after sleepless night I dreamed of stuffing her until she was temporarily immobile; her beautiful, fat, greedy face panting at just how full I had made her.

Until one day, she had gotten a little too gluttonous at lunch. She had nearly gotten stuck in the booth before we even ordered and after, her pants button finally gave in and launched across the restaurant into some poor man's soup.

She hurried outside as fast as the lard coated logs she called legs could carry her. She was sweating, panting, and completely red faced by the time we got in the car. She was stunning. I couldn't help myself, I couldn't hold in my lust any longer. I leaned over, grabbed that fat, distended gut, and kissed her icing glazed lips passionately.

I could tell she was surprised but, I could feel her melt into my kiss and let out tiny muffled moans at my touch. Her hands began to trace my body, reserved at first but then with reckless abandon.

I pulled back and looked into her eyes:

"My my, greedy little piggy is just as horny as she is hungry, isn't she?"

Her hips bucked as a loud moan escaped her pouting lips.

"Dirty, slutty, gluttonous girl loves her new fat body, doesn't she? Is that why your gym membership has been gathering dust, fatass? You want to get bigger, don't you"

She nodded, eagerly, double chin jiggling furiously at the movement.

"Oh my pretty little pet, you've done such a good job growing this huge lardy body, but now that I know you love it as much as I do, you're going to get really really fat. You may have just eaten the whole menu at this restaurant but, there's several drive thrus on the way back to my place, and you're going to show me just how much of a fucking hog you can really be. Now oink for me lardass, and get ready to be fucking stuffed within an inch of your life."

[xdivyxd]

Hey! This AU might sound Crazy but...

Can you do CelebrityRevengeEra!Gerard and The FemaleBogyguard!Reader?

They're in a secret relationship so the rumours wont start y'know?

Gosh, I'm so Freaking Insane.

Omgomg i love this idea sm!!! Hope you'll like what i came up with <3

Keep you a secret

Word count : 763

Pairing: RockstarRevengeEra!Gerard x FemaleBodyguard!Reader

Description: Reader is dating Gerard but she's also his bodyguard, and they have to keep their relationship a secret

Gener: fluff

Warning: a slight implication of smut at the end but it's really not that noticeable

I watched as the boys walked towards the group of fans waiting outside the venue before the show

I stayed close, making sure everything was going smoothly and ready to interfer if needed

My eyes were mostly focusing on Gerard, the men i loved so dearly, I won't be able to live if something happened to him.

The guys signed autographs, hugged fans and posed for pictures, answering most questions they've been asked

I smiled knowing that these people who are standing in front of them care about them almost as much as i do.

It wasn't my intention to fall in love with the lead singer of the band i was working for, it's unprofessional and inappropriate, which is one reason to why we decided to keep our relationship a secret, the second one was to avoid the rumours, cuz those can ruin a relationship just as fast as it starts.

But when he started talking to me i knew there was nothing i could've done about it, he was ment to be a part of my life

He looked at me briefly and shoot me a smile, assuring me that everything is fine

"Gerard do you have a girlfriend?"

The question we were hoping to avoid, i looked at Gerard's direction, he seemed nervous, but not surprised, it's like he knew this question was coming

"No i don't have a girlfriend" he said with a smile, his voice was muffled by a bunch of fans screaming excitedly.

I smiled and decided that it was enough and that the boys beed to get back inside, "i think it's enough for today you guys need to rest before the show" i said to frank, as he was the closest one to me and he nodded.

"Alright guys it's been a pleasure to meet you, we need to go and get ready for the show!!" Frank exclaimed "hope we'll see you inside, we love you!!" Gerard added

I waited for the four of them to walk infront of me so the other bodyguards and me could circle them

I ended up walking next to Gerard, he smiled at me "you're cute when your concerned" he whispered to me and i rolled my eyes, biting the inside of my cheek to avoid smiling

"Just keep walking Way" i said and he winked at me before joining the conversation the boys were having

I shook my head and entered the venue.

--------

"We were my chemical romance and it was a pleasure playing for you los Angeles!!!" Gerard screamed into the mic before the all walked backstage, jumping at each other and cheering.

They each walked to their dressing rooms to take a shower and change, and when no one noticed i slipped into Gerard's dressing room.

He was sitting on the couch reading a comic book, he already showered and changed into clean clothes

I smiled at him as he looked up "hey babe, great show Tonight" i said as he reached his hand towards me, i took it and he gently pulled me to sit next to him, his arm wrapped around me, my head rested on his shoulder

"I don't want to keep you a secret anymore" he said as he looked at me

"Gee i can lose my job and i mean, you saw the way your fans reacted to you not having a girlfriend, they would tear me apart"

He seemed to be thinking for a few seconds "i can provide for you, Incase you haven't noticed I'm a rockstar" he said with a smirk and i smacked his arm jokingly 

"Don't be an ass, it's not about the money, i love my job" i said to him with a genuine smile "i like being able to keep you and the guys safe"

He kissed my lips sweetly, "and besides, it's kinda hot all this sneaking around don't you think?" I said with a smirk and he chuckled "very hot" his voice was low "so let's keep it a secret for a little bit more okay?" I asked and i kissed his cheek before getting up, he nodded

"I need to get back, and you need to go to the hotel" I looked down at him, his hand were on my waist, his thumbs drawing circles on them

"come by my room tonight?" He looked at me with urgency, with need "of course" i said and kissed his lips before walking out of his dressing room and back to the team

"Why are you smiling?" Jake, another bodyguard, aske me

"No reason"

[movedtolilmouzee]

hi! can you do the reactions of bonten!ran,rin,sanzu, and possibly hanma to the reader seeing them getting into a physical fight with someone and getting scared (maybe from ptsd?) please and thank you :)(and can you make it super angsty i love that shit) also love your writing you’re so talented!

𝔤𝔬 𝔞𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔯𝔶...

𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘺𝘦, 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦, 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵.

(Zee's note- Hi love, hope your staying hydrated. Hope this is angsty enough for you, also so glad you like my writings. I'm still learning. I'm sorry this took me so long, motivation really slipped from my grasp. Hope you enjoy. <3.)

Ran told you from the beginning that his job wasn't going to be easy on your heart. Ran dealt with things daily that put his life at risk, even your own life at risk but you stayed by rans side through everything. Even through all the love you have ran, you could never stop that anxiety pit in your stomach that ate at your insides every minute that passed when ran hadn't answered your message or walked through the front door. You told yourself that it would get better, and thankfully it did.

Ran slowly introduced you to everyone at bontens, bringing you along to meetings that wouldn't disclose to much information, and even offered to bring you along to parties hosted by bonten and their allies. Things were surprisingly ok for dating someone that was a notorious criminal in Japan. Unforgivngly having a big reputation will bring trouble and trouble found ran tonight when walking home from a small trip to a convince store.

The three major issues in this moment was that ran is half asleep, you don't have much fighting experience and most of the lights coming from apartment buildings and street lamps weren't enough to show the group of men sitting in the alley waiting to jump ran. These were a recipie for disaster, and that was exactly what ran got.

Ran took the moment he had to himself, to relax. Leaning near the corner of the convince store, his mind running through what seemed like a million thoughts, distracting him from the 3 men that had snuck up behind him, making quick work to cover his mouth and grab his arms. Chuckling when they notice how quick ran seemed to panic, unable to escape from the current situation, his mind praying they didn't find you.

The men seemingly almost unsatisfied with how easy ran was to catch grew annoyed "And here we thought the famous haitani ran would be a much scarier fight" one man whispered, slamming rans arm against the corner wall of the convince store, rans screams muffled by the man covering his mouth, blood gushing down rans arm, his bone showing through the

Rans mind panicking when he laid eyes on you rounding the corner looking for him. The sound of your gasp and bags crashing against the floor catching the attention of all three men. "Looks like you got a fan, haitani. Or is this someone you care for? Don't worry we don't want em, we want you, though the look of their face breaks my heart so I'll be nice and let you go this time, next time we won't be so nice." The men whisper leaving ran in your hands.

Rindou found himself in multiple fights but always got away with minimal cuts, bruises, and blood on my knuckles. Always being able to calm your worries, telling you it was work accidents, which wasn't always a lie just never the full truth, rindou saw no need to worry you.

Rindou's words had comforted you everytime you worried but anxiety always found itself creeping into your mind, poisoning your thoughts every moment rindou left for work and the moment you believed those thoughts was the day rindou came home so blooded and beaten you thought a funeral was the next step in your relationship.

Rindou tried so hard to enter the house quietly, to slip past you without you seeing him, him be able to clean up and supirse you but you always knew when he was home.

Your usual greeting to him being stopped by a gasp of horror stopped rindou dead in his tracks, rindou quick to try and say he was ok, he just needed a bath and some rest and then everything would be fine, you knew better though. You knew how good rindou was at down playing his pain and ignoring his injuries to make you not worry.

although rindou tried he failed, only agreeing to let you patch him up when you threatened to call ran and told rindou you'd stop cuddling with him before bed. That was enough for rindou to agree, annoyed you caught him but grateful you want to help.

After what seemed like an eternity to rindou and only an hour to you, you finished cleaning rindou and patching him up. Discovering the many cuts, brusies and black eye he developed thanks to his work. Both of you sharing annoyed comments back and forth, mumbling how rindou should be more careful and how you shouldn't worry so much about him, evwn through the bickering continued you two happily sat in the livingroom watching a movie enjoying the time you had together.

Sanzu breaking old habits were difficult for him, leaving behind what he knew wasn't something he could think about before dating you, it took him aback when you asked him to settle down with you and slowly start thinking of becoming more then just whatever sanzu considered you to be in his life.

Sanzu loved the idea at first, was so excited to ask you to be his partner in crime, he even called rindou and ran to have a few drinks with him. A few drinks turned into sanzu calling his dealer and getting high off my mind before the haitani brothers called it a night knowing how sanzu got with different alcohol and drugs mixed in his system.

You had no clue what your now current boyfriend was doing, simply thinkingbhe had a few drinks, technically the truth but not the truth you wanted.

The moment you heard the door open and close was your cue to greet sanzu, a smile on your face as you happily told him about the dinner you made and plans you had for the night, only met with his cold deminor, an annoyed sigh before sanzu just sat on the couch turning on the tv.

Bad timing is the solution you came up with, offering to get him any medicine if his head or stomach hurt noticing how he ignored your talk of dinner, earning another sigh from sanzu and a quick but mumbled "no". Now worrying you didn something yourself to upset sanzu, worryingly asking what you had done not noticing sanzus irriation building "GOD SHUT UP, I DONT WANT YOUR DISQUSTING FOOD AND IF I WANTED YOUR HELP, I WOULD OF ASKED! God get the fuck out of my sight, can't stand watching you cry. Pisses me off."

Hearing him yell so suddenly, voice getting louder at each moment, sanzu staring down at you with a cold gaze hands rubbing his temple had tears streaming down your cheeks, making you remember all the times your mother/father yelled at you for not being good enough in their eyes, pushing you past your limits to please them, only realizing you'd never be enough for them.

Hanma is a dangerous man that loves playing dangerous games. Gambling his life, his valuables, all to feel a risk, searching for that opponent that could make him taste fear, thought he found his opponent, it was you who got the taste of fear.

Hanma was on a winning streak against his newest client, pocketing over millions worth of jewelry, diamonds, and gold. "You're down on your luck today, kid." Hanma teased edging the poor person on. Hamna knew how to get under everyone's skin, how to make them play his game.

"One last game, prize is them." You tensed at the deal, praying hanma wasn't going to take it but hanma sucked his teeth hearing the offer "Add 20k on that and you got a deal" hanma snickered, rubbing your back with his hand. Hanmas a smart man you thought, he'll win this and you two can go home, you thought.

Though your hope slowly died watching hanma losing as the games went on, tensing with every move. "Ah, you beat me fair and square, guess I lost huh?" Hanma asked, snapping you from your mind panic setting in.

"That I did" the client chuckled, practically hopping out of his chair, happy to have beaten hanma and gotten the grand prize he wanted all along. "Hand em over, hanma. You lost" he coo'd smirking at you, only seemingly to enjoy the fearful look on your eyes.

"On second thought, isn't it rather sketchy how you seemed to beat me so suddenly. You and your little body over at that table near by seemed to have been passing a lot of glances towards each other. I wonder what that could be for" hanma hummed pulling you against his chest "I think I'll be keeping my prize tonight"

"Cut the bul-" before hanmas client could even finish his thought of saying thise words, hanma already pulled his revolver out of his pocket, pulling the trigger on both the man and his friend, sighing. "Clean this up and collect my shit." Hanma said annoyed, lifting you in his arms "Hope I didn't scare you too bad, baby, I just wanted to see how far we'd get" he whispered kissing your cheek.

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter II.

gif credit / @azertyrobaz

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Javier is slowly beginning to realize that monotony isn't as bad as he initially thought…

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: Mutual pining, mentions of masturbation, they really wanna fuck each other, that good slowburn angst, lots of smoking, southern gothic vibes are strong with this one, if you love worldbuilding then this is the fic for you, mentions of a religion, mentions of sex workers, dbf!Javier Peña because I have no self control.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS:   The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Lexi, my beloved, who has been a BIG help in helping me figure out this crazy ass story. Love you bestie, I don't know where I'd be without you < 3 I am… so obsessed with these two and the little universe they live in… *muffled screaming* I hope everyone reading so far is having a good time because I know I am! I've got a lot in store for this pairing, and if you're a fan of the horror/thriller aspect of this plot there's a lot comin' your way ;) Anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback on this blog < 3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

It’s an extraordinarily warm day, which isn’t uncommon for the area, however it’s the type of warm that reminds her that summer is just around the corner. 

It’s Paloma’s favorite season. While the Seminary heat is unforgiving as all hell; she loves the way the sun feels against her skin, the thin layer of sweat that clings to her gives her the perfect glow and nothing beats cooling down by the creek. The town is also much more lively during the season, too, since tourists heading west often take a rest stop in in town.

It’s how she gathers most of her summer weekend crowd. People who do not expect this drive through town to be as charming as it is. While small, it has a community actively keeping it thriving. The businesses that line the streets of their downtown all owned by families who have been here for decades. A lot of love has been poured into their settlement, and while most of the time Paloma feels suffocated by the repetitiveness of her days, she’ll always have a soft spot in her heart for her hometown.

She’s become the performer that she is by staying here. Her shows at The Whiskey Fox have been the perfect training grounds for her to get a comfortable grasp on her stage presence, which aside from singing, is the most important thing about being a musician. An aspiration that she keeps to herself, mostly, just telling those who ask that she’s doing this ‘singing thing’ as a hobby. That her ‘real job’ would be going full time at the library.

That is her plan, the future she damns herself with. As quick-witted and rambunctious as Paloma can be; she’s still not valiant enough to take control of her own life.

Instead, she’s at the beck and call of her father’s.

It is much easier this way, she justifies it to herself like that all the time. If she goes out into the world, pursues her want to be a musician; there’s a chance that she fails and has to return home with her tail tucked between her legs like a shameful dog. At least staying here in Seminary provides her with a stability to keep her content for the rest of her life.

But would she really be content? Would she regret not trying and potentially not even failing?

Paloma bikes the familiar path from her house down into town, woven bag with her belongings in the basket that’s zip tied to the front of the bicycle she’s had since she was in high school. There’s a small grocery list and an even smaller to-do list accompanying her things; a brown paper bag with her father’s lunch also tossed in there.

When Darla, her 1970 Buick Electra, officially died on her; she hated having to bike everywhere. Her father was able to take her places whenever he could, but most of the time it was just Paloma and her bike against the world. 

The sheriff even made the suggestion of sending one of the deputies to escort her wherever she pleased, but she despised the idea of having an officer always following her around. So after a few awkward car rides to and from town; she decided it’d be more convenient for her to bike it until further notice. The only time she requests an escort is after a closing shift at the library or a show at the bar. 

The most peaceful part of the trek is riding over the abandoned railroad tracks near the old train station. Something about the scenery; being surrounded by the lush forest with nothing but her and her thoughts for miles and miles is very comforting to Paloma, so whenever she arrives at this little landmark of hers, she makes a point to stop and soak it all in. 

On days like this, where she doesn’t have much to do; she stays for a while.

Paloma approaches the familiar tracks, stopping entirely and propping her bicycle against a nearby tree. She pops a Linda Ronstadt CD into her portable player, the headphones slipping over her ears as she approaches the tracks. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath her boots is muffled out by the soft country tunes that begin to play. Paloma sits right on the track, a little unorthodox but she doesn’t care. Using her bag as a makeshift pillow, she lays flat and looks up at the sky until her eyes shut close; sighing wistfully as she slips away into another world entirely.

She has been struggling to finish any of her music lately, inspiration lackluster to the point where she’s had to revert to covering songs instead of performing original material at the bar. It is frustrating, to say the least, especially when she knows she is more than capable of writing a good song.

There just hasn’t been much happening that warrants a spark in her passion. No romantic love to pour her heart over, no life-altering event to process with instruments and lyrics. Nothing exciting.

She was in a rut…

That was until a few days ago.

Mind seemingly wanders over to the handsome man that had been in her family home.

Those dark brown, intense eyes that had her flustered any time they made eye contact, the strong cut of his jaw and how it flexed when he spoke, lips that looked so inviting underneath the mustache that she hates she’s so attracted to.

This is the first time any man has left such an impression on Paloma. She sighs softly, remembering how she was harping on her own father for bringing out the fancy scotch in order to impress Javier.

“Man must’ve left quite an impression for ya to be bustin’ out the crown jewel.”

Now she understands why. Aside from being nice to look at— she found herself completely engaged in any conversation he partook in. While he was not a man of many words, the few that he did have had her feeling like a freshman schoolgirl crushing on a senior athlete.

She is particularly interested in the fact that he had lived in Colombia for a better part of however many years; curiosity bubbling anytime he mentioned anything about his time there. She is envious that he has been able to experience a country filled with such culture and ecological beauty, even though she understands that the nature of his job probably didn’t entail to him sightseeing much. 

That’s another thing; he was very vague about what his role was down there. All Paloma knows is that he was a DEA agent, responsible for cornering one of the most notorious drug traffickers to exist in the modern world. One thing led to another and now he’s back in the United States as a Deputy Sheriff for a small town in the middle of fuck-knows-where Texas. 

It intrigued her to know his backstory and how that led him here. What all he’d done and witnessed, even if it wasn’t any of her business.

She finds it fascinating and it adds a layer of mystique to his persona.

Then her thoughts begin to turn into something more… naughty as she imagines the way his mouth wrapped around the colored end of the cigarette, his fingers flexing around the drinking glass before downing its contents in one swift movement, tongue peering out to lick at his lips. Fuck, her eyes flutter open and she squints slightly as the sun beams down on her. Her skin is warm, just how she likes it, buzzing with excitement at the image of the older man nuzzled in between her thighs, teasing her until she was at his mercy. 

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, fingers slowly trailing down her torso then drumming along the exposed skin of her lower stomach. The thought of moving her digits beneath the fabric of her panties crosses her mind for a split second before she remembers where she is. Not that she would be interrupted at this time of day but she has to have some shame, right? It’s already bad enough that she’s fantasizing about him, no need to fuel that fire by touching herself in plain daylight.

Paloma sits up, removing the headphones from over her ears and twisting her body to reach into her bag as she pulls out her notebook and pencil, a sudden stroke of inspiration striking her.

Javier lazily leans back against the leather chair he’s sat in, typical cigarette dangling from his lips as he scans the report in front of him, brows pulled in to a frown as he half ass reads it. He’s only been in Seminary for a week and it hadn’t taken him long to fall into routine. 

He gets up early to exercise, finding the time in his day to be able to do that again, eats what he considers a ‘healthy’ breakfast (it’s just toast and eggs… maybe some fruit if he’s really feeling it) then heads to the sheriff’s department. The day drags by until he’s at home again. He spends the evenings glued to his couch, takeout remnants on the table, nursing a beer and watching reruns until he goes to bed.

That is the part he dreads the most. The night time. Javi has always had trouble sleeping, but his time in Colombia only made the insomnia worse. He’ll stare at the ceiling, replaying all his fuck ups over and over until day breaks and soft sunlight seeps into his room. 

On the nights where he does manage to fall asleep, it’s restless and doesn’t last very long as he jerks awake from whichever nightmare decides to plague him that night. He has a few that revisit him often, involving Helena and how things ended with her. Others about Carillo and his untimely death.

It is quite a vicious cycle that he has not been able to break himself free from. It was much more easier to get ahold of it back in Colombia where he could go pay for a distraction at a brothel or bury himself in the demanding job.

Here, there isn’t a damn thing he can bury himself in.

Well, there’s one person he’d love to find a distraction in but fucking the sheriff’s daughter just to get some sleep is not the best move for him to make considering he’s trying to be a better person nowadays.

There is barely anything happening at the station. The few deputies employed are constantly out on patrol, which Javi had recently revamped by giving new routes for them to follow. A task he’d conjured out of pure boredom yet left Sheriff Leighton impressed by his proactiveness.

Furthermore, the department is left partially empty with just himself, Romeo and Lorraine holding down the fort. 

With no further updates in the ongoing homicide cases; there isn’t much to do. He isn't in the mood to go make small talk with the locals, and he’s already driven and familiarized himself with most of the roads within town limits, so he’s stuck in this building for the time being. 

The sheriff had reiterated many times not to expect the same hustling and bustling he experienced back in Bogotá or Medellín. A fact that he knew when coming in, but experiencing it is just so damn grueling.

Instead of going home and bullshitting there, Javier decides to be responsible and help Lorraine reorganize their filing system. It is outdated to all hell and messier than anything he and Murphy could have ever conjured up at the embassy, but in attempts to be a more… responsible person, he tells the front desk clerk to not worry about a thing and that he’d handle it all himself.

He might have gone in over his head, but they’re just files. The tedious task something he is very familiar with. Javi had done his fair share of mindless tasks during his DEA days.

He’s at his desk, an unused one he plucked from the center of the room and moved over into a corner that gave him just a pinch of privacy. Romeo apologized about the lack of space for a private office, but Javi didn’t mind it. Being in an office is stifling; and he enjoys, for the most part, being out in the open. 

Also, Lorraine is great company. Very unfortunate that she shares the name with his ex-fiancée.

Javier sets the sheet of paper he’s reread a dozen times down, ashing his cigarette and scratching at his nose with his thumb when he hears the sound of the front door opening. 

His eyes lazily trail over to the entrance and an immediate smirk tugs at his lips, crease between his brows disappearing.

Paloma Leighton.

Oh, how he’s been thinking about her since that night he had dinner over at their house. How wrong it is of him to be pining after a woman like her.

It is not that difficult to capture Javier’s attention, he is very self aware in that regard. As long as you were interested; you were pretty much on his radar.

Javier loves women. He loves the way they look, the way they smell. Their soft moans and pants in response to his coaxing, how their nails feel digging into the soft skin of his shoulders as they come down from an intense orgasm. 

Can anyone blame him for being so attracted to them all the time? Women are a godsend.

He watches her carefully as she saunters over to his desk that’s on the opposite side to where her father’s office is. 

“Now, Miss Leighton— to what do I owe this pleasure?” He asks, taking another drag of his cigarette as he keeps his position leaned back in his chair.

With an air of curiosity, he casts a lingering gaze over her figure, his lips moistening involuntarily as he drinks her in.

She’s wearing cutoff jean shorts that hug her in all the right places and a halter top with an exposed back. She isn’t wearing a bra so her stiff nipples are prominent against the fabric. The sight gets him stirring below his belt, and he has to keep smoking in order to keep his antsy hands off of her. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She throws the typical line at him with a smirk.

“I forgot my camera at home. Mind comin’ back to mine, cariño? I’ll make sure to take the prettiest pictures.” He ashes the cigarette, flirtatious as ever despite telling himself he was not going to go down this route.

But there’s nothing wrong with a little flirting, right? Especially not when she’s playing into it.

“Clever, charming and cocky. I’m startin’ to sense a pattern here, cowboy.”

“And what would that pattern be?” 

“M’still figurin’ that out, unfortunately.” There’s a brief pause, “Those things’ll kill you.” Paloma changes the subject, nodding her head towards his nicotine stick.

“I’m going to die eventually.” Javier rebuttals and she just hums, honey colored eyes watching as he takes another long drag.

Javi is thankful that Lorraine had left early today. He's certain that this little conversation of there's would have played out differently had there been a third person in the room.

Maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all and he would have been stuck thinking about her like a perverted fool.

“S’that why you’re here? To criticize me smoking?” His toned biceps flex as he brings his hands behind his neck, fingers interlocking and cigarette hanging from in between his lips.

“No, just stopped by to drop off daddy’s lunch before I ran some errands. That man wouldn’t eat if it weren’t for me.” Now it’s her turn to do the ogling, her gaze traveling from the cigarette to his arms, eyes sparkling down at him.

“Sheriff isn’t in right now.” He informs her but something tells him she already knew this. Her brows raise at the news and she shrugs. 

“‘Course he ain’t. Probably already went down to Carl’s for lunch. I keep tellin’ him his arteries are gonna get all clogged up if all he eats is greasy burgers and beer.” Javier can sense a hint of irritation in her voice.

“So just let him. He’s a grown man, M’sure he doesn’t need nor want his daughter looking out for him every second of the day.” He interjects, watching her carefully as she rolls her eyes. 

Her hair is in two neat braids, bangs framing her beautiful face leaving the entirety of her back exposed to him. A few droplets of sweat slowly roll down her spine and he imagines himself licking them right up; preferably while he has her bent over his desk. 

“Well if I don’t do it then who will? He’d barely last a week on his own.” Despite being irritated, Javier catches how she genuinely seems to care for her father so with that, he decides to not meddle in their family business and instead moves on swiftly.

“You know him better than I do.” He leaves it at that, finishing his cigarette, “Heard you got a show comin’ up” And when he says ‘heard’ what he really means is listening to everyone else rave about the sheriff's daughter's incredible talent and how he simply must attend one of her performances.

That sparkle in her eye glistens brighter at the mention of her show and she nods, “Yup,” pops the ‘p’, fiddling with the pens he’s stuffed into his faded DEA mug, her body turned slightly to face him. “Every Friday and Saturday. Will we be blessed by your presence, Mr. Peña or are you going to hide out in your trailer home all weekend?” Hearing his last name coming from her has his jaw ticking ever so slightly and he watches her eyes take notice of it.

Paloma likes it.

“Dunno. Gotta check my schedule, querida. Things tend to get crazy ‘round here. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Well… if you do decide to find some time in that busy schedule of yours; the show starts at six both nights.” And who was he to deny her? Especially as she bats her eyelashes at him, an unspoken way of letting him know she wants to see him there.

The front door bell dings, announcing the arrival of someone new, interrupting the comfortable pause of silence they were sharing. 

That someone new is the sheriff, and Paloma immediately rises from her spot on the edge of his desk, making her way to her father. Javier straightens up, picking up the previously discarded sheet and feigning interest in it; but Romeo doesn’t seem to notice a thing. He looks deep in thought.

“There ya are. I brought you lunch.” Paloma calls after him but he’s already in his office. She lets out a sigh, looking over her shoulder at Javier whom she catches getting an even better view of her ass.

“See you around, Mr. Peña. Maybe you should start carrying around that camera of yours. Y’know… to get all them pretty pictures.” She makes a point to sway her hips as she walks away and he runs his tongue over his front teeth slowly.

This girl is going to get him into trouble.

At least he won’t be so fucking bored anymore.

Paloma leaves the building twenty minutes after getting her father to agree to eat the lunch she brought and not go down the street to the local diner. He seemed pretty distant so she didn’t press him like she usually would, instead giving him a peck on the cheek before leaving his office.

Her gaze wandered over to the opposite corner, hoping to find Javier sitting in his seat already watching her but he was nowhere to be found.

She felt a slight pang of disappointment in her gut at his absence but she pushed it down, a budding smile on her lips at the thought of seeing him at her show. 

She doesn't even care that the man is older than her, she’s down bad for him. 

Paloma swings her leg over her bicycle, kicking the kickstand inwards and riding down the street towards the farmer’s market until she’s stopped by a familiar voice calling her name.

“Paloma!” It’s Sloane, who’s jogging to catch up with her. 

Sloane McCarthy is the only best friend that Paloma has ever had. Like, ever.

Growing up, she was a very shy child and only had the typical schoolyard friends, but not any that she would willingly swap secrets with or any of that other stuff girls usually do within their social circles.

After her mother’s death, Paloma became more of an introvert. She didn't maintain a friendship outside of school, instead all her focus and energy was put into her artistry. To her, instruments were her best friends. They would always be there to listen, to help her navigate through her grief alongside coming into her own without a mother to guide her through the trials and tribulations of girlhood. 

As lonely as it sounds, it was probably for the best that she chose her musical hobbies to be what got her through the hard times. It allowed her to navigate the creation process at her own pace, figure out her strengths and work on her weaknesses.

She is grateful, however, for the guidance she received from Tammy, Kristy and Lola: the sisters that owned The Whiskey Fox.

They helped fill the void left barren by her mother, Abilene, and were the ones who convinced her to start performing at their bar when she was only fourteen.

Paloma met Sloane a few months ago at the library. She had come in with two other guys whom she can barely remember now, asking her about Seminary’s selection on books about the occult. There are hardly any, she had replied, since this town is too obstinate to allow many books on those matters on their library shelves.

Ever since that afternoon, they hit it off and began to hang out together more regularly. Paloma had even hooked her new friend up with a job as a bartender.

She stops, steadying herself as the girl hugs her from the side then rounds the bike to stand in front of her.

“Hey Slo, whatcha up to today?” Paloma asks, eyeing the book in her friend’s possession before meeting her gaze.

Sloane possesses a striking beauty. Waves of rich brown hair cascade down to her collarbone, framing her face like a halo. Her button nose, perfectly proportioned, adds a charming innocence to her features.

But it’s the freckles that truly distinguish Sloane’s features, far more pronounced than Paloma's. They form constellations upon her round face, like tiny stars scattered across a canvas of porcelain skin. And above them, her signature touch: baby blue eyeshadow delicately applied across both eyelids, enhancing the color of her brown eyes.

Paloma found herself being envious of Slo and comparing her beauty to that of her best friend’s; especially when she was the main one being approached whenever they went out.

Not that Paloma cared about male attention, however, she still felt that pang of rejection deep in her belly each time Slo was being hit on while she was left making small talk with the bartender or waitress, depending on where they were.

It wasn’t because she wasn’t attractive, anyone could tell you that Paloma is one of the most beautiful women in town; but more so because of who her father is. Sometimes, men don’t approach her in fear of being shot at by the sheriff. It can be very frustrating, but it does help keep the creeps away.

“Well… ”  She drags out, “I went to the library to look for ya, but Olsen said you didn’t work today so I’ve just kinda been roamin’ town… hopin’ to run into ya before poppin’ up to your place unannounced. What are you so smiley for?” Her bubbly and chirpy southern accent reminds Paloma of the bright smile she’s still sporting.

“Just havin’ a good day, s’all. Why are you lookin’ for me?” She questions, deciding not to tell Sloane about her infatuation with newly appointed Deputy Sheriff Javier Peña just yet, gaze once more flickering down to the thick book in her grasp.

“‘Cause, babygirl, I got the answers to all those existential questions you think up in that pretty little head of yours,” she shows off the printed work, “Right here. Got a sec?” with the look Sloane gives her, Paloma knows she can’t say no.

So they situate themselves on a nearby bench, her bicycle propped up against the backside of it. Sloane turns to her, their knees knocking against each other as she begins to explain.

“Ya know my friend August? He wrote that poem I showed you a few weeks ago… the one that had your face as red as a ripe tomato.” She pokes fun at her, pinching her thigh which Paloma swats away playfully.

“It was more explicit than anticipated, but yes I know who you’re talkin’ about. Didn’t he come in with you that one day? In the library?” She just barely remembers him, since he hadn’t said much; just browsed the shelves with the other guy as Slo did all the talking.

“Sure did! Well, he’s written a few books, none of them published…. they’re more so for record keepin’. However, I told him you were… a fan of his work—”

“Fan is a bit of a stretch, don’t ya think?” She snorts, stare flickering over to Slo. 

“— So he asked me to share this with you. It’s his prized possession.” She continues, eyes twinkling as she slides the book over to Paloma.

Paragons of the Sacrificed

By Augustus Rutherford Dixon

“Augustus? What a name.” Is the first thing Paloma notices, thumbing through the book and scanning some of its contents. “This reads like a manifesto, I’m not sure I’m all that interested.” She tells her, closing the item shut and attempting to give it back.

Sloane blocks her from doing so, shaking her head. “No ma’am, you’re gonna read through it. I promise you’ll enjoy it. I know how you like to get lost in your books and music… this is right up your alley.”

She seems almost desperate as she makes her case, so Paloma reluctantly keeps the book in her lap.

“Right up my alley. What exactly does that mean?”

“You know… the adventurous fantasy stuff. He’s really into religion and history but not in a weird, bible thumpin’ way how the people ‘round here tend to be. Eye openin’ stuff… real, tangible things that make you want to pack up all your shit and get the hell outta dodge.”

Slo doesn’t have to say much after that, it’s as if she knew exactly what words to say to get Paloma to be more open minded about reading the book. She chews on the inside of her cheek, eyes falling to her lap and she sighs, giving in.

“Sure, why the hell not. If it’s crappy, though, and you waste my time I swear I’m gonna get it back in blood.” She teases, nudging Sloane with her elbow. 

“Oh please, I wouldn’t be bringin’ this to ya if I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Sloane was right. This book is right up her alley.

After getting over the initial wariness of the man’s introduction, she is fully immersed in the historical events he writes about as well as the practices of an unorthodox religion that’s been on the rise, according to him, since the birth of Christianity.

Her relationship with religion in general is pretty unadorned. Paloma is a practicing Catholic, just like the majority in Seminary, and she attends mass every Sunday with her father.

It’s enervating, in a way, but she knows just how much it means to Romeo for her to accompany him every week so she does it just to pacify him. Now whether she’s as devoted as she makes herself out to be is a completely different story.

She’s not. Paloma believes in a greater being; but not in the same manner that organized religion does.

It would quite literally break her father’s heart if he heard her say that out loud.

August is a talented writer, his words transporting her entirely while also making his message concise and informative. Paloma’s been tucked away in her room, obsessively reading the book for about three hours when the landline in her room suddenly rings and it makes her jolt out of surprise.

The clock on her nightstand indicates that it’s nine p.m. and she blinks away the sudden tiredness at the realization. Inserting her bookmark on the page she’s currently reading, she closes the book and reaches over to pick up the receiver and wedges it between her ear and shoulder.

“Paloma speakin’.”

“Hola, hermosa.” Javier’s voice cuts right through her and she’s instantly smitten, the book she was so engrossed in not even a minute ago now forgotten.

“You sweet talk every girl you meet with Spanish endearments?” She can't help but ask, feeling the flutter of the butterflies in her stomach at how he flirts. Between his sultry southern accent and alluring dash of Spanish; Paloma can’t decide which one she likes to hear more.

She hears him shuffling on his end of the phone, “Why? You don’t like it, cariño?”

The Spanish. She definitely prefers the Spanish.

“I do. It’s different.” She twirls the telephone cord around her index finger,  “You call just to shower me in pet names?”

He chuckles, the deepness of it having her bite down on her lower lip.

“No, I was hoping I could speak to your father.” This makes her frown slightly, but also what other reason would he have to call their house at this time of night?

Call for her? Talk her through an orgasm through the phone, telling her to imagine his fingers instead of hers and whispering those goddamn pet names until she’s panting; wailing out for him? Or even better: offer to come by to get her out of the dry spell she’s been under before her father made it back home?

Both so appealing. Both so ridiculously out of this world.

She realizes she’s been quiet longer than intended, so she snaps out of her sudden wet daydream, speaking up.

“He’s out with some friends from the bar. Don’t anticipate him comin’ back home till way later so you’re just goin’ to have to catch him at his office tomorrow, Mr. Peña.”  She had taken notice of the way he was so bothered by her calling him by his last name earlier that she does it again, just to fuck with him.

“You make me feel so old callin’ me that.” He scoffs and her smile doesn’t budge.

“Well aren’t you?” She fuels the teasing, wondering how far she could push it before the fire she’s been harboring burns her.

“You really want to play this game, corazón?”  

“Maybe…”

There’s a swift pause, all that’s heard is both of their breaths on either side of the line. Paloma braces herself for whatever racy event decides unfold but he breaks the silence first.

“Just be a sweetheart and tell your dad I called. Have a good night, nena.” He doesn't even give her the opportunity to give a closing remark, the dial tone ringing in her ears before she pulls the phone away and sets it back into place.

She hadn't realized how tightly her thighs had been clenched throughout that whole exchange. It’s embarrassing how her body reacts to him. Whether it just be his voice or his presence itself. 

Paloma groans, standing from her bed and deciding to shower to calm herself down, August’s book being placed on her nightstand next to the landline.

Javier walks in to the crowded bar much later than he intended to, stuck at the station with some chatty citizen who called to complain about her neighbors dog.

This is the life he lives now. Went from tracking down dangerous sicarios to listening to elderly women bitch about pets.

He hears the rumbling music spilling out into the street upon arrival. The decently sized bar is filled with so many patrons, that it took him a second to recognize it. Honest to God. 

Javier has definitely underestimated Seminary. It becomes clearer the longer he's here. While he does find himself complaining about the monotony most of the time, he’s slowly but surely easing into it.

He finally makes it to the bar and orders himself his drink. Dark eyes scan the crowd until they land on the stage where the first person he notices is Paloma; dressed to the nines with a bright smile. A smile he mimics as he watches her strum her guitar, the three other woman sing along with instruments of their own adhered to their bodies.

She isn’t currently singing, just adding in to the instrumental of a song that he doesn’t recognize. After paying for his drink, he maneuvers the crowd until he finds Romeo sitting front and center, swaying along to the music with nothing but adoration in his eyes for his daughter. 

When he sees Javier approaching, his entire face lights up.

“Javi, my man! You made it.” The two share a friendly handshake as Javier sits down in the empty seat besides him, digging in his leather jacket for a smoke. 

“Woulda been here earlier but had a Margaret Lipton call complainin’ about how her neighbors dog won’t stay on its side of the fence.” He grumbles, lighting the cigarette and taking a lengthy drag as the song finishes.

“Sounds just like her. Expect a lot more’a those. Poor woman is just lonely; her husband of fifty years died not too long ago. Ever since then she’s been callin’ nonstop over petty shit. She’ll complain if a fly buzzes by, I tell ya.” Romeo adds on, taking a sip from his drink and this gets a brief chuckle from Javier, making a mental note to limit his calls with one Margaret Lipton.

The next song begins, a very lively country tune that immediately shifts the atmosphere of the already buzzing bar. People begin to flood the dancefloor in front of the stage, but it doesn’t obstruct his view from the person that he’s here to see. He watches as she strums her instrument before approaching the microphone.

♫

Her voice is so rich and smooth, ears perk up at the angelic singing and he takes a swig of his whiskey, eyes not leaving her for a second.

She shoots a wink towards their table, and while Javier knows it’s directed to the man besides him, he can’t help but be selfish enough to think that’s it’s meant for him. 

That her attention is all for him.

The music picks up, he can feel it embedding itself in his bones and he’s so entranced by watching her perform that he just barely notices when Romeo leans over to talk to him.

“Swear I’ve never been more proud of her.” Javi peels his gaze away from her before the man notices how he’s basically eye fucking his daughter.

“Does she usually write her own songs?” He can't help but ask, her voice ringing out passionately as the song continues.

“Majority of ‘em. Always got her nose stuffed in one’a her journals. When she’s not writin’, she’s at the piano or on the porch with her guitar. Melts my heart every time I see it.” 

Javier doesn’t say much in response, intrigued to hear how her voice sounds when it’s just her singing.

Paloma reproaches the microphone after the long instrumental that had the crowd dancing along to the upbeat country track concludes.

“My daddy warned me about men like you He said, "Baby girl, he's playing you! He's playing you!”

She sings with a vigor he was not expecting, making eye contact with him and he catches the way her red-stained lips pull into a smirk.

Just like that, she has captivated him all over again. 

Under the stage lights, Paloma radiates with an otherworldly glow. Clad entirely in black, she stands out against the band’s more colorful attire. A leather miniskirt, paired with sleek black stockings, hugs her form, the oversized silver buckle of her belt gleaming beneath the spotlight pointed at the stage.

Her leather jacket, mirroring the skirt, features intricate silver detailing that catches and reflects the light with every movement. Beneath it, she wears nothing but a black bra, veiled by a sheer mesh top that adds a layer of sexiness to her ensemble.

Atop her head sits a black cowgirl hat and it wouldn’t be Texas if she wasn't wearing her cowgirl boots, tying everything together.

They drag the last lyric out with the rattle of the drum’s percussion before the song officially ends and bar erupts into a boisterous applause. The women take turns hugging and congratulating each other, though his focus is solely on Paloma. He doesn’t even acknowledge when Romeo gets up to get them all another round of drinks.

“Well, folks, I reckon y’all just witnessed a taste of the good ol’ honky-tonk spirit tonight. Ain’t nothin’ like harmonizin’ with the talented Lone Star Sisters. Let’s raise a toast to good music, good company, and good times at The Whiskey Fox — where the spirits are high and the music’s just right!” The bar laughs and this gets a bemused chuckle out of Javier, who stubs out the cigarette he’d been puffing on throughout the performance.

After a few more formalities and some announcements, she disappears for a brief moment before he spots her again, this time heading in his direction.

She’s stopped a few times along the way by some patrons who simply cannot get over her and her performance.

All Javier does is admire and be amused at how they treat her like she’s a celebrity. Even watches as she signs a slip of paper and crouches down to give it to a little girl. The interaction has his heart racing so he downs the drink in front of him to slow it down.

The adrenaline that Paloma feels after a show is indescribable. It’s like she transforms when she’s up there, giving it her all and making sure that the crowd is being entertained to the fullest extent. It’s why she absolutely loves it when she sees everyone dancing, she's even spotted a few people singing along to some of the original songs she performs regularly.

It’s an even better feeling when she gets off stage and is being praised left and right; it makes her feel like the art she puts out is important as it’s being appreciated by everyone and not just those in her immediate circle. What really melts her heart, though, is when she sees the gleam in the eyes of the younger girls who come see her play. As if they’re looking up to her, seeing their own aspirations performing out on the stage. Knowing that she’s somewhat of a role model to them is all she needs to stay content in her passion for creating music.

After finally getting through the crowd of… admirers (she doesn’t like calling them fans; it feels odd), Paloma reaches the table her father always sits in but is pleasantly surprised to see just Javier there.

“You came.” She doesn't even try to hide the large smile on her face, heart still beating wildly in her chest due to the high energy performance.

“Found a small window of opportunity in my very busy schedule to be able to make it. You’re lucky, hermosa.” He teases and she laughs with a shake of her head, shaking off the leather jacket on her shoulders and removing the hat that sits on her head.

It is entirely too hot for her to sport it for the rest of the evening, so she drapes the jacket over the back of the chair and lets her hat hang over the corner of it.

“You’re a damn good singer.”

The compliment has those butterflies stirring in her stomach again. Paloma won’t admit that she made sure to be on her game tonight in anticipation of his attendance. She doesn’t want to come off as desperate, despite how flirtatious their interactions have been since they met.

“You sayin’ that ‘cause you mean it or are you just tryin’ to become my groupie?” She cocks her head to the side slightly, sliding into the seat across from him and crossing her legs. She bites her lip as she watches his eyes divert down to her thighs; the top of her stockings showing and a soft slither of her skin teasing him to reach out and touch.

“I genuinely mean it, but being your groupie doesn’t sound half bad.” Paloma giggles, scrunching her nose and he smiles at her.

Why does she feel like she’s drunk off him? What the hell does he lace his attention with?

Romeo returns right on time, setting down three glasses on the small, round table.

“Alright, a bourbon for me, whiskey for Javier and a root beer with muddled cherries for my beautiful daughter.” She reaches for her drink, ignoring the look Javier gives her and she takes a lengthy sip from the straw; the carbonation feeling so refreshing as it travels down her throat.

“No post-performance drink?” He asks her, fingers once more fishing out his cigarettes and lighter.

“I only drink on occasion. Try not to do it when I sing unless I need to loosen up the good ‘ol pipes.” Two fingers tap against her throat to emphasize her point, his dark eyes trailing the area and she knows his soft lips would feel divine against her warm skin.

The trio fall into small talk for all but five minutes when Javier’s pager buzzes in his jacket pocket. He excuses himself from the table and he saunters away to the pay phone outside of the bar. Paloma’s gaze follows him all the way out, sound of her father talking muffled as he overtakes her thoughts.

Javier digs into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a few coins to insert into the public telephone then punching in the familiar number of his former partner. The line rings three times before Murphy picks up.

“We got him.”

The words knock the wind out of him and he stabilizes himself by sticking his hand out to lean against the payphone stand.

“Alive or dead?”

“Trujillo shot the fucker right between the eyes.”

He presses the phone against his forehead at the news, eyes closing as he allows it to fully sink in. He knows he should be relieved… that the weight on his shoulders should dissipate now that Pablo Escobar is dead.

Not in custody or cornered. No, dead.

Yet he isn’t relieved. Not as much as he would have wanted to be. It’s a bittersweet feeling, really. They can rejoice now that they got one dirty narc over and done with but if Javier has learned anything in the past years— it’s that this war on drugs is far from over. The rest of the Medellín cartel has yet to fall and Cali just reached its peak. 

You know what they say: cut off one head and two more take its place.

But that’s no longer his problem. He had been reassigned, sent somewhere where he could chill the fuck out and start making amends for his fuckups in Colombia. His only focus now, as long as he’s concerned, is dealing with what happens in Seminary and Seminary only.

He and Steve finish their conversation, reminiscing on all the crazy ass shit they had to do and endure in order to get to this point. Steve ends the call by telling him that he should have been here to see it all the way through and that, in a strange turn of events, he was proud of everything they accomplished together despite the bullshit that ensued.

Javier doesn’t say much, as per usual, but he doesn’t have to. Steve knows he’s appreciative. 

Fingers itch to pluck out another cigarette but he goes against the urge, instead collecting himself before reentering the bar.

Paloma was left alone shortly after Javier left to take his phone call, her father pulled away by his buddies while she finished up the rest of her drink.

When Javier does return, she immediately notices the change in his demeanor but doesn’t know how to ask him what’s wrong without coming off as bothersome.

“Everythin’ good?” Is what she decides on, leaning in to rest her chin on the palm of her hand as her elbow sits on the perpetually sticky top of their table.

“Everything’s alright, muñeca.” He takes his seat again, still being flirtatious but there’s an edge to it. He grabs his drink and swishes its contents around the glass before downing it all in one swift shot.

Paloma doesn’t say anything else, and she doesn’t get the chance to when her father returns to them.

“I gotta go handle some shit that’s poppin’ off with the Sullivan’s. Go get your things, baby, we’re leavin’.” This pulls a groan from the back of her throat.

“I do not want to tag along while you deal with whatever the fuck they got goin’ on. Not after last time.” Very rarely does she tag along with her father when he’s on the job; and last time they had been called to the Sullivan farm— she didn’t expect to be there for almost three hours trying to help calm down Mrs. Sullivan, who was threatening to shoot her husband with their shotgun.

The conversation seems to intrigue Javier, eyes darting between the both of them as he begins to smoke again.

“Well, you’re gonna have to hitch a different ride, then.”

“That’s no problem, Mr. Peña will take me.” They both look over to Javi as she’s just volunteered him to drive her home.

“Paloma—”

“It’s fine, Romeo. Go handle it, I’ll make sure she makes it home safely.” His thumb drags against his bottom lip as he stares right back at her and his intense gaze has her shifting in her seat, the familiar feeling of arousal shooting heat up core.

It doesn’t take much convincing to send the sheriff on his merry way, her body tingling at the idea of being alone with Javier in his truck as he takes her home.

“You gonna make sure m’fine? That I make it home safe and sound?” Paloma asks with a bat of her eyelashes, leaning close enough to where their knees brush up against each other beneath the table.

He follows her lead, leaning forward and taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from her face. “S’what I’m here to do, princesa. Make sure beautiful girls like you stay safe.”

There’s still some bite to his words but it’s hot the way he flirts with her. She catches the scent of his musky cologne mixed with the liquor and cigarettes he's consumed and it’s intoxicating.

“I thought I told you these things’ll kill you.” She plucks the nicotine stick from between his middle and index fingers, putting the thing out against the ashtray.

“And I thought I told you I’m gonna die eventually.”

“Try not to make it anytime soon.”

“Why? Would you miss me, cariño?” His brows raise inquisitively as he asks her, brown eyes twinkling beneath the dim lighting. 

Paloma shrugs, sliding out of her seat. “Probably not. I’ve just met you.” She replies nonchalantly, despite her head spinning from how badly she wants him. She grabs ahold of her jacket and hat, “I’m going to go pack up my things. Meet me in the back alleyway in ten.”

After getting her stuff into the back of his truck and watching her say goodbye to everyone, Paloma is sat in the passenger seat as Javier drives along the familiar road towards her house.

It’s quiet at first, the radio playing some song softly to fill the void from the absence of conversation.

“So… you got a girlfriend?” Her question catches him off guard and he actually laughs in her face. “Or boyfriend— I don’t judge.” She raises her hands defensively.

“Why, you tryin’ to apply for the spot?” Javier briefly takes his eyes off the road to look over at her, biting his tongue once he sees how she’s staring at him.

Her back is against the door, the soft hue of the radio's blue light casting a shadow across her face as she draws one knee up to her chest. She looks irresistible. Javier contemplates pulling over just to grab her by the neck and press his lips against hers.

She just rolls her eyes playfully, fidgeting with the ends of her skirt.

“Not really, just curious.” He can hear the sincerity coating her words and while he usually wouldn’t divulge in his personal life, let alone his romantic relationships, he decides to answer her truthfully.

“No girlfriend. M’not really the settle down type of guy.”

“Ah, so he’s got commitment issues…” She trails off, messing with him.

“Somethin’ like that.” He isn't offended by her assumption, since it is the truth.

“So no girlfriend back home? Or in Colombia?” 

“Why the sudden interest, princesa?”

“Just tryin’ to get to know you, cowboy.” There she goes with that nickname again and he just shakes his head softly.

“The honest truth...? No girlfriends anywhere. Lots of hookups in Colombia, though. The women there are very beautiful.”

She’s silent, which has him looking over at her again yet this time she isn’t staring back, instead looking ahead at the road in front of them.

“So you’re a slut.”

He laughs again, much more lively this time, “Most people would agree with you, yeah. But I had my reasons for sleepin’ around.”

“Aside from pleasure, what were the reasons?” Her brows raise, her arms crossing against her chest, pushing her breasts together beneath the mesh material and the sight is like something straight out of a Playboy magazine.

“Most of ‘em were informants. Prostitutes who had vital information on the criminals we were after.” 

“So in return for intel, they got to spend a night with you?”

“That was part of it.”

She hums and he flips the question on her before she starts asking about other aspects of his life in Colombia.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend— or girlfriend. I don’t judge.” He repeats her own playful words back to her, making a turn then flipping on the brights as the street lights have decreased to none; leaving them traveling down the dark back roads.

“No, not at the moment. I’ve only ever had one real boyfriend.” Paloma leans her head back against the window, eyes still trained on the emptiness of the night. “And that ended terribly so I didn’t bother trying again after that.”

Curious to know this terrible ending she speaks of, Javier proceeds to stay on topic. “Must’ve been real bad if it got you to give up entirely.”

“Yeah. His name was George. We dated in high school... can you keep a secret?” She suddenly asks, ripping her gaze from the windshield over to him. He can see her from his peripheral.

“For you, nena, of course.”

“We were supposed to get married and run off the night before graduation. Had planned the whole thing out, even bribed an officiant to wed us in the middle of the night down by the cemetery. It didn’t take him much convincin’; told us he had a soft spot for young love.” Javier doesn’t say anything in response, instead letting his silence speak for itself and allowing her to continue on with her story.

“The big night came. I was so nervous I coulda puked. Me and the officiant waited for what felt like an eternity until eventually he apologized to me and left. I cried there all night, a stupid and naive part of me hoping George would eventually show… he didn’t.” She sighs heavily and Javier wants to reach his hand out to rub comforting circles with his thumb against her thigh but he doesn’t, instead driving down the driveway.

“Found out the next day that he had left for the army. Which was so heartbreaking since that’s why he wanted to leave Seminary. He didn’t want to enlist like his brother and father had. Guess somethin’ changed his mind… haven’t heard from him since. I never told anyone about it, and the officiant passed away shortly after so…” She trails off and Javier genuinely feels for her.

However, he can relate to an extent. Not to her but to her ex. His relationship with Lorraine back in Laredo a haunting reminder of the type of man he was slowly turning into. Instead of leaving for the army, though, he’d left her at the altar to run off to Colombia.

“That’s… tough, querida.” He's never been the best at comforting and it doesn’t seem like she minds his scarce sympathy.

“It is what it is. I got over him eventually.” They roll to a stop once they’re at the house, he puts the truck in park and cuts the engine; letting a comfortable silence fall over them.

“Thank you—”

“Do you need—”

They both speak at the same time, interrupting the other and they share a laugh about it. “Ladies first.” He beckons her to continue, shifting his body slightly to face her.

“Thank you for bringin’ me home. I know I didn’t give you much of a choice.” The soft click of her seatbelt being undone brings a sense of reluctance over him, knowing that her departure is imminent and he's already dreading the moment she’s gone.

“Anytime, hermosa.” Javi's dark eyes soften, “Do you need help getting your things inside?” Paloma nods and he’s quick to hop out of the truck, rounding it to open the door for her before she even gets the chance to reach over for the handle.

“What a gentleman.” She purrs, her hand brushing against his shoulder as she walks past him to help unload her equipment.

The desire to push her up against his truck and passionately kiss her, have his hands explore every inch of her body is tempting as all hell but he shows some self restraint.

They get everything into the living room and she walks him over to the front door.

“I appreciate your help, Mr. Peña.” Paloma leans against the doorframe with a teasing simper. They’re close enough to where he can see all the small imperfections that litter her skin. His eyes taking in how beautiful she looks up close, their bodies slowly gravitating towards each other.

“You ever gonna stop callin’ me that?” He asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hands landing on either sides of his hips.

The girl shrugs, blinking slowly. “Not ‘til you’re not bothered by it.” They exchange a lustful stare until he decides it’s time for him to leave before things escalate and he crosses a boundary he’s helplessly trying not to overstep.

“I’ll see you around, Miss Leighton.”  Very reminiscent to their last goodbye on this porch, her smirk softens into a smile.

“Goodnight, Javier.” One, two seconds pass before she’s leaning in to place a gentle kiss against his cheek, the feeling has his heart racing and she pulls back slowly before taking a few steps back and closing the door. 

Javier is left in a stunned silence, the small act of affection impacting him more than he would like to admit.

[stydiaandthejeep]

Yet another The bear headcanon rattling around my scrambled brain

If Sydney noticed a shift in the air after the night of friends and family, when she later found out Carmy had broken up with his girl friend through a fridge door, she did not dwell on it. Seeing Claire that night, witnessing him step out, losing his attention all over again - it scraped against her like a dull knife. But she was being pulled in a hundred million directions at once, struggling to keep her head above water, so it was easier to push down. The way he'd looked at her under the table. The texts he hadn't replied to. How she sometimes felt like she had lost her grip on reality when the intensity in his eyes told her one thing, but his actions were a shrill scream in her ears.

In the quiet of the kitchen, late at night, it's harder to push down. The only other sounds besides the scraping of her rag against the tiles is the muffled voices of Nat and Carmy, possibly arguing about something in the front. It's harder and harder to stay professional and detached when she gets nothing but attention from Carmy these days, who's quiet and steady and always at her side - pushing her, listening to her suggestions, being there way earlier than everyone else and walking out last. She knows it is all for the good of the restaurant, for the sake of not crashing and burning, but the attention gets so blurry that it hurts. Did he really need to spend all their free days with her in his crowded kitchen? Were all the touches necessary , passing her by or leading her into a room? She had no idea where his guilty conscience began and where them ended. She had caught him observing her often, like he was studying for a difficult test, and struggled to find a rational explanation for it. She mused over this, spacing out until she'd heard him call her name, softly, and she'd scrambled to get up and hide how red her cheeks had become.

"Yes, chef?"

His expression changed for just a second, before he cleared his throat and started fidgeting with some cutlery that had been laid out neatly. " Uh, great job today. You can head home. "

She didn't know what she expected, but her chest filled with sickly disappointment. For an instance, his eyes there -

Syd nodded, started to gather her things, cursed herself for wanting more all the damned time. She went to pass him, wanting to say goodnight to Nat, when she felt her hand being softly gripped by his, the momentum forcing them to lock eyes. Her breath hitched, stuck in her throat.

" Actually, I wanted to tell you something, Syd." He sounded nervous - more than usual, and he was avoiding her eyes now, but their calloused hands still held one another. In the small space between them, Sydney felt like she would combust at any minute. Like the lines were blurred again, pulverizing into mist. "But I've been way too fucking scared of it, and afraid I'd fuck things up between us again when I know , I know I can't afford to. Because I can't do this without you."

" The restaurant?"

Carmy scoffed, incredulous. "Yeah, that too."

" I'm also not the best person to be around - to rely on, and you deserve better. But I feel like I'm going crazy, well, crazier than usual, Syd, I want -"

In the quiet, she could hear her pulse banging in her chest, feel her skin burn where he was touching her, so softly it was almost like he wasn't there. Her voice dropped to a whisper, afraid of startling him.

" What do you want, Carmy?"

"Syd!"

Nat's voice crashed into their little bubble, and she jumped from where she stood, just inches away from him, struggling to adjust her voice back to something casual. "Yeah?"

" I'll be in the car if you still want a ride home. Make sure you two lock up."

She loved Nat, but that was one of the rare moments that Syd wanted to strangle her. Carmy had gone back to his guarded stance, a few more steps between them, but the burning in the surface of her skin hadn't dulled. She knew he would pretend nothing had happened but that she would lose sleep over it. They quietly moved around, flickering the lights off, putting on their coats. In the sharp coldness of the outside air, he walked behind her, stopping in front of Nat's car. " Let me cook for you, okay? Next time we have a day off."

When she turned around, there was a shy smile hidden around a lit cigarette. It felt dumb and childish, but she felt the need to ask, "Like, to try out a new recipe for the menu, or?"

He smiled again, this time real and bright and blinding, no bluriness in his voice. "No, just for you, chef."

She nodded, biting her lip in order to not break out into a goofy grin. She'd have no choice but to think about the blue of his eyes all the way home, struggling not to text him that she wanted him, too.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

This is Just the Beginning

Raylan Givens x Reader

Words: 2907

Summary: The reader’s husband finds out she’s been investigating a series of disappearances without telling him after she comes home with a dislocated shoulder and a concussion. 

Notes: I don’t really know where I was going with this one, but you know what, it was fun to write. I couldn't resist writing a good 'who hurt you' story with Raylan. I also might write more to this story, hence the cliffhanger, but I thought that starting off in the middle of the drama would be fun to experiment with. I love me a good in medias res. This man has taken full control of my brain, so be ready for possible other Timothy Olyphant appearances on this blog. 

Other Crime Drama imagines: HERE

-

You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and jerked your arm. Biting your lip, your muffled cry of pain still filled the bedroom as you popped your shoulder back into place. Your vision blurred even more, adding to your already dizzy state. You stumbled your way to the bathroom where the mirror revealed more carnage. 

A large gash on your forehead explained the pounding in your head and a massive mark on your left cheek showed the beginnings of a nasty bruise. As for the rest of you, it felt like you’d been trampled by all of the horses in the Kentucky Derby. 

All to get you to stop looking. To scare you into submission. To forget about all of those girls. 

Instead, it just pissed you off. 

But that would have to wait. For now, you were just grateful your husband would be out of town until tomorrow. It at least gave you some time to figure out how to hide your injuries so he didn’t have a goddamn heart attack. The last thing you needed was to have to explain what you’d been doing that led to you getting jumped in the parking lot of your work. 

What Raylan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Hoping to distract yourself from all the throbbing and aches throughout your body, you pulled out your computer to get some work done, maybe figure out who it was that attacked you. There were moments, between the swings and the yelling, that you thought you got a good enough look at the bastard. Skinny, white, teeth that hadn’t seen a brush in years, and you were pretty sure he had a tattoo on his hand. You should know from how many times it smacked you around. 

You flexed your jaw, wincing. “Son of a bitch,” you muttered, pulling up your search engine and typing in the Chamberlain Family Movers website. The cover image depicted all of the members of their little clan of criminals. You narrowed your eyes and leaned over your screen to get a better look. 

The front door opened. 

You slammed your laptop shut. 

“Shit,” you said. “Shit shit shit shit shit.” You scrambled to your dresser for your concealer. “Raylan, honey, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he called back, sounding tired. “Got the job done early so they sent me home.”

“That right?” In your hurry, your hand swept the tube of makeup you needed and you watched in panic as it rolled behind the dresser. “Goddamnit.” 

“Guess that means we can break open that wine you wanted to, huh?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice!” 

There had to be something. You had to find something. You tried reaching behind the dresser, but it just made the screaming pain in your shoulder shoot up again and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep from making any sound. 

Heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs. 

You kept your back to the door and your arm behind the dresser. 

Raylan opened the door. 

“Whatcha doing?” He asked, clicking the door shut behind him. 

“Looking for my makeup,” you said, your bruised cheek pressed against the wooden surface. 

“In the dark?” He turned on the light. “Do you want some help?”

“No, no, I almost got it.” You stretched your fingers, accidentally bumping it further away. “Shit.” 

“Are you sure?” He chuckled. “Not that I’m complaining about the view here, sweetheart, but that cannot be comfortable.” 

“Almost…” You caught the tube of concealer between your middle finger and pointer. “There.” You stood up straight, careful to not be facing him. “Now I’m gonna go put it on. I want to look pretty if we’re having a date night.” You hurried to close the bathroom door, putting an inch and three-eighths between you and his gaze.

“Hold up,” he said before you could close it. “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah.” You kept your face turned away. “I just want to put on some makeup.” 

You almost had it. Just a few more inches…

Raylan put a foot in the door. “Why won’t you look at me?” He put a hand on your cheek.

“Raylan, wait,” you said. 

He turned your head to face him and, immediately his face changed. His mouth fell open and his hand fell to his side, but it was his eyes that got you. Oh, his eyes. They filled with worry, but with that, there was a fire. A fire that burned all the way through you. 

“What happened?” 

You held up a hand, motioning for him to calm down before that flame in his eyes turned into a wildfire. 

“Raylan,” you said calmly, sweetly. 

“Don’t Raylan me,” he snapped back. “What the hell happened?” He didn’t let you finish. “Somebody mug you? What have I told you, Y/N, you don’t fight ‘em, you give-”

“I know you are not blaming me right now when I’m standing in front of you with a bruise the size of Tennessee on my face,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as best you could. “God, Raylan, you always have to say ‘I told you so.’” Despite the bite in your words, you couldn’t stop the crack in your voice. 

His eyes softened. He brought his hand back to your face, gently grazing your cheek. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”  

Raylan pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. But when his embrace hit your shoulder, you cried out against his chest. He pushed back in a panic, eyeing you for the injury. 

“It’s, dis-” you took a sharp breath. “Dislocated. I popped it back just before you got here.” 

“You relocated your own shoulder? Why the hell would you do that?”

“I figured if I went to a hospital, you’d find out about it, or hell, maybe someone would think you did it.” You blinked back tears, looking up at the ceiling. 

Raylan saw marks on your neck. Like someone had put a boot there. 

The fire in his eyes returned. 

“Come here.” He led you to the bed, careful not to hurt your shoulder again. “Now, sweetheart, I need you to tell me what happened.” 

You swallowed. “You’re not gonna like it.” 

“I don’t like coming home to you beat to hell either,” he said. “So you’d better just tell me and I can figure this out.”

“You won’t be doing anything.” 

He tilted his head in warning. “Y/N, honey, just tell me who roughed you up. I’m not going to run off and shoot ‘em if that’s what you're worried about.”

That was exactly what you were worried about. 

That, and dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in was the last thing you wanted. 

Lie. 

“A guy jumped me when I got to my car after work,” you said. If you kept things vague enough, maybe he wouldn't keep asking. Who were you kidding? You married a Marshal. So you added one more thing to throw him off the scent. “Took my purse.” 

Raylan’s eyes narrowed in confusion, darting between you and something behind you. 

“The mugger took your purse?” 

“Uhuh,” you lied. “And I did exactly what you told me to. I cooperated. I didn’t mouth off. And he still beat the shit out of me. Some people I guess.” 

Raylan leaned forward and pointed. “That purse?” 

You turned. Sure enough, that damn bag hung on the back of your chair. 

Shit. 

“N-no, my other purse.”

“You don’t have another purse, honey,” he sighed. “Unless you have another husband that bought you a different one.” Raylan moved so he was crouched in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Just tell me the truth, baby.” 

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and blurted it out. 

“I’ve been looking into some disappearances. I think it might trace back to a crime group outside of Lexington, but I wasn’t sure and I went down there to look around and someone must have seen me-”

Raylan held up a hand. 

“You started investigating organized crime and you didn’t think to tell me?” 

He spoke slowly and quietly. You would have preferred he yelled. 

“I was only looking into it because a friend of mine’s daughter was taken. I wasn’t sure it would lead back to anything big.”

His expression stayed the same. Eerily calm. “You started investigating organized crime and you didn’t think to tell me?” He repeated. 

“They’re taking girls, Raylan,” you exclaimed. “I had to do something.”

He stood up. 

You followed, moving to the chair to grab your purse. 

Raylan spoke from behind you. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going to sit here and be lectured by you,” you said. “I need to go check on Beth, anyway. If they found me, they might have found her too.” 

“If you are going anywhere, it’s to a goddamn hospital.” There was the yelling you were looking for. “Do you have any idea what kind of shit you are in?” 

“No, Raylan, I really hadn’t thought about the possibility that the Chamberlains might have a problem with me looking into their human trafficking!” You clamped your mouth shut. Shit. You shouldn’t have said that. 

“You went after the Chamberlains alone?” 

“I think we’ve established the alone part, honey. You’ve made it very clear.” 

“Goddamnit, Y/N, this isn’t a joke!” He whirled you around to face him. “I’ve dealt with these people before. And this,” he motioned to your multiple injuries. “This is just the beginning.” He took your face in his hands, thumb running over the mark on your cheek. “It’s just the beginning.” 

Looking into your husband’s dark, worried eyes, you almost broke. 

How hard would it be for them to find him? To make him bleed, to break him. And it would be your fault. 

You had to catch them first. 

“Alright, I won’t go to Beth’s tonight,” you sighed. “But I’m not going to a hospital either.” You stopped him before he could argue. “It’ll draw too much attention.”

“Sweetheart, your head is bleeding, you probably have a concussion, and you relocated your own goddamn shoulder,” he said. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I have you here to keep an eye on me then, hm?” You put on your sweetest smile and pressed your lips against his to keep him from fighting about it. 

When he pulled away, there was a small smile, albeit a reluctant one, on his face. “I’ll go get something to clean that then,” he said, pointing to the gash on your head.

“I’ll surrender to that.” 

He kissed your forehead as he went. 

You waited until you heard his footsteps on the stairs to reopen your computer, peering at the picture until your head hurt. 

There, in the very center, was the sonofabitch who attacked you. 

-

You would have crossed your arms in frustration if your shoulder still didn’t hurt so damn bad. If he was going to treat you like a kid, you were very tempted to start acting like one. 

He led you into the office, pointed at you, then pointed at the chair across from his. 

“You. Sit.” 

“Yes. Sir.” You pronounced with the same agitated tone he presented. Despite your defiant eye, you did as he said and sat down, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the glass of a photograph. An ugly bruise sure enough covered the lower left half of your face and the cut Raylan cleaned the night before. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “You think about anything and everything you can tell me about what you found out. And I mean all of it, Y/N.” The sternness and frustration in his voice hid something else that only someone who knew him like you did could see. 

He was scared shitless. 

Art was already out of his office, watching the encounter between the two of you curiously. 

“Raylan, I didn’t know it was bring-your-wife-to-work-day,” he snarked. When you turned your head, revealing your injuries, his teasing smirk fell. “Good Lord, what happened?”

“I gotta talk to you,” Raylan sighed. “Now.” 

Art nodded and led him into his office, closing the door behind them. 

“Hi, Mrs. Givens,” Rachel greeted with a small smile and a questioning gaze. 

“Oh, it’s just Y/N today,” you said. “My husband’s a touch mad at me, so I think it’s best to leave his name out of it.” You watched her eyes widen. “Oh God, no this wasn’t him.” You laughed humorlessly. “This is my own mess, as I’m sure he’d love to point out.” 

“Looks like quite the mess,” she noted, motioning to your cheek. 

“Yeah well, even Marshalls can’t stop the world from happening, right? Despite what Raylan would like me to believe.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Good luck convincing him of that. Sometimes I think he must believe he’s Superman with the shit he gets himself into.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

The two of you laughed. You tried to get a look into Art’s office, but the blinds were drawn shut. You didn’t like being talked about behind closed doors. It made you feel like a kid waiting for your parents outside of the principal's office. And you didn’t even work here. 

Your leg bounced with a mix of impatience and anxiety. You were so high-strung that you nearly jumped out of the chair when your phone rang, your knee hitting the edge of Raylan’s desk. Everyone in the office looked up at you. You pretended like nothing happened as a string of whispered curses left your mouth. When you looked at the number, you sighed. It was just Beth.

“Hey, I can’t really talk right now, but I might have found something.” 

“Do anything to alert the pretty little Marshal next to you and we’ll shoot Mrs. McCaughly,” a voice you didn’t recognize said. 

You froze. 

They continued. “Go outside. There’s a car waiting to pick you up. We just want to talk.” 

“Hold on, I think you’re breaking up. Let me see if I can get a better signal.” You kept your tone as level as possible. Luckily, everyone in the office had returned to their mountains of work, including Rachel. 

“We appreciate your corroboration, Mrs. Givens,” the voice said slyly. “We’d rather not have to bring your husband into this. That wouldn’t end well for anyone.” 

You turned your head.

Raylan was still in Art’s office. 

“We promise to return you to him in one piece,” the man cleared his throat, “so long as you cooperate, of course.” 

“Let me just step outside. I’ll hear you better there.”

You stood up and walked out without causing any alarm. 

“Jesus, Raylan, what the hell was she thinking?” Art sighed, running a hand down his face. 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Raylan’s leg bounced, fists clenching and unclenching around the arms of the chair. 

He could still see the blood in your hair, and hear your whimpers when you moved your injured shoulder. He wanted to find the sonofabitch who did it more than anything, but right now, he was more worried about what it could lead to. 

What had you gotten yourself into?

“I want to put her in protective custody,” Raylan said. 

Art shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Make it work like that.” Raylan stood up, pacing. “Did you see what they did to her, Art? They could have killed her. Honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t. And I know her, she’s going to keep pursuing this and pushing and pushing until someone goes over the edge.”

“I guess you two are perfect for each other then,” Art muttered. 

Raylan closed his eyes. “I need help. I don’t know these people. I don’t know what they’ll do, but I know they’ve already gone after her once. Please, Art. I can’t…” He trailed off. 

The tone of his voice alone showed his supervisor just how afraid Raylan really was. Art hadn’t seen him this way before. The anger and frustration, sure. But never afraid. 

Art sighed. “I can’t do anything officially. We can’t confirm that this was anything more than a mugging.” He shot Raylan a look to keep him from arguing. “But why don’t you take a couple days off? Get Y/N and yourself away for a while. Let us look into it and see if we turn anything up.”

Raylan took a deep breath, nostrils flaring and that same fire in his eyes from the night before. He exhaled slowly and nodded. 

“Alright, fine, but if anything happens, I want to be the first to know.” 

“I’ll look into it,” Art said. “Now go take care of that pretty wife of yours.” 

He dismissed him with a wave of the hand. 

Raylan left the office feeling just as wired as he had when he walked in, but when he looked at his desk, his entire body went cold. 

“Rachel,” he started, “where’s my wife?”

The other Marshal looked up from her paperwork. “She had to take a phone call, why?”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“I think outside- hey, wait! What’s going on?”

Raylan was out the door in seconds. Waiting for the elevator would take too long so he sprinted down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him. 

But it didn’t matter how fast he ran. By the time he reached the sidewalk, you were gone. 

[writers-ex]

price tag

spider!yuna x gf!reader x spider!ryujin

word count: 855

a/n: i think my first angst…? idk but plz lmk if you like it or not really??? this was just idjfslkajka thank you @wannabe-icy for putting up with the back and forth for ideas literally bothered you so much so enjoy it also

“yuna how could you?? do you have any idea what the consequences will be-“

“shut the fuck up. i know what i’m doing, you don’t.”

imprisoning you against the wall with her webs, yuna rolls her eyes and muffles your pleas with another web to your mouth as she continues. as your girlfriend slash hero of the city proceeds to enter a bank across the street and returns with bags of money falling out. she starts counting the bills making the tears stream down your face, yuna glances at you.

“babe i know what i’m doing, remember how much we’ve struggled to make ends meet with my job as a photographer? the city had already offered me the reward for the last villain i faced i just….decided to cash my check in now.” 

walking over she cups your face with foreign eyes staring back at you. these weren’t the eyes you saw every morning before going to bed, nor were they the same ones that whispered i love you when you left to work. 

“the city owes us for all it’s taken away. the privacy of our relationship, my time with you, the ungrateful words of its citizens, our so-called friends betraying our trust-“ 

her fist balls up as yuna bows her head before pushing off the wall and clutching her chest. eyebrows furrowed her lips trembled as she gave you one more look, “-babe how much more am i supposed to give? there’s nothing left other than for me to take what’s deserved, for me to be repaid.” as she turned her back to you yuna heads over to the stack of money, alarms go off and sirens are heard while she continues. “i’m almost done and then we can go home to-“

“little sis i thought i taught you better than to stay near the scene of the crime after a heist?” eyes wide you turn to see the one person you would never have thought to show their face is now holding one of the stolen bags of money proudly.

“ryujin?!” the girl in question couldn't help replying sarcastically to yuna.

“yes that’s my name~ although i would prefer your lover to be the one screaming it.” winking at you she sets the bag down and walks toward the baffled younger.

“why are you-“

“here? well i do have spidey and sister senses unlike yourself, only i was planning on robbing this particular bank tonight and someone beat me to it…which is surprising because i thought we were supposed to be playing good cop bad cop?” ryujin’s eyes drift over to you as she fully takes in your... position. “and why is your girlfriend all tied up like a bad porno movie?” getting up yuna lunges to punch ryujin only to have her swerve and scoff.

“leave us be, it’s just this one time! it won’t happen again i’m just-“ holding a hand up she stops yuna from speaking.

“i don’t care about the backstory i’m only concerned about the three cop cars heading inside the bank, which may i remind you is full of your spider webs and no bad guy so….? it doesn’t take an idiot to put two and two together.” ryujin webs over to the wall you’re tied on and frees you from the stick situation, meanwhile yuna’s attention counting the bags of money.

“…21…22…23 million…i’m about 10 million short, shit! i must’ve left the other bag in the vault.”

“um…read the room little sister we have to go before- for fucks sake!” ryujin yells as yuna webs herself toward the bank hiding behind one of the letters of the neon sign on the roof. 

“yuna…” running into ryujin’s arms you bury your head in her chest and sob. “please help her….please.” the heart-wrenching whimper you let out makes her eyes well up in tears. taking one glance at her wayward sister ryujin takes advantage of the situation and pulls you in for a kiss making you gasp as she pushes you off and webs after her sister. confused and annoyed at what just occurred you watch ryujin hide on the side of the building attempting to get yuna’s attention.

fear keeps you standing still watching the spider siblings battle it out in the shadows. yuna comes out victorious as she holds the bags of money close to her body while ryujin pants loudly eyeing her younger sister crawl up the building. realizing that yuna is safe you breathe a sigh of relief and turn to get down from the roof only to find yourself surrounded by cops holding you at gunpoint.

“wait i can-“

you’re cut off by handcuffs gripping your wrists. before you can explain yourself an officer nearby drags you inside a squad car for questioning back at the station. waiting to leave you survey the bank and nearby buildings, spotting something red sneak back inside the bank as cops start to leave you feel a wound form inside your heart. yuna, the hero in your life became the one that betrayed you, the car starts and ironically so does your desire for revenge.