#i promise anything that gets commented on

[biteyoubiteme]

“Get out you freak!” Your words have little effect as Taehyun merely shifts on the spot, “I’m not a freak”, he counters, his brows drawing together in an offended frown. You scoff, “you act like one.” — He shakes his head, “a freak would like what he saw”, his eyes snap back up to your own, “I don’t.” jaw on the floor i love him so bad- and i hate him but its what makes me love him more- 

Were you really going to let one kiss change all of that? Taehyun’s hand caressing the bare skin of your thigh makes you think, yes. You could deal with the consequences tomorrow. For him anything 

“How long have you liked me?” You’re unable to hide the teasing edge to your voice, but he doesn’t seem to catch on. “F-Fuck since I first saw you”, he groans, on my knees for him not even sorry i love him sm 

“Why, do you get off on making me pissed or something?” Your comment was meant as a mere sarcastic remark, but Taehyun nods against the skin of your neck. “M’jack off to you so much”, he bluntly admits, ugh how he just doesnt care and just confesses sm uuuuuuggghhhh

“Please, let me have you, I promise I’ll be good from now on, noona.” ive been broken thank you sm for serene i loved this sm

⌞ 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 ⌝

DREAM RECALL your brother's best friend always seemed to have it out for you. But when he sneaks into your room one night, you start wonder if this is another one of his sick games.

wc -> 6.2k

pairings brother's best friend!taehyun x afab!reader warnings older!reader, kind of perv!taehyun, protected sex, vaginal fingering, slight edging?, tiny bit of marking (tiny tiny), taehyun refers to reader as "noona", some dom/sub dynamics, sub!taehyun + dom!reader, but they're both kind of switchy, idk how to tag it, just read heh

#serene adds ✎ @binniesbooks ahh baby I know I'm late but here's your little birthday gift!! happy belated birthday love (..◜ᴗ◝..) I originally didn't plan for it to be this long but I can never stfu when I write so I'm not very surprised heh :3 oouuu but I really like how this one turned out and I hope you will to, kisses from serene <3

The paintings on your wall rattled, the floorboards of your bedroom practically thumping in rhythm to the obnoxiously loud beat coming from your brother’s room. You tried to ignore it, pressing your headphones against your ears as you fought to block out the heavy bass. How long had it been, twenty minutes? It sure felt like three hours. — That’s it, you’d had enough.

Your blaring fists against the wooden door were barely heard, and after your third attempt, you kicked it open, causing it to slam against the wall with such force that Beomgyu finally turned around in his seat. His gaze flits between the squeaking door and your furious figure. “Sup sis?” He flashes you a small grin, leaning back in his gaming chair as he studies you expectantly. 

His ignorance only fueled the fire already searing within you. “Turn that down!” You yell, trying to overpower the thunderous noise of his speaker. Your brother’s grin only widens. “What was that?” He asks, his brows knitting together in a play-pretend frown, undeniably enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. But you weren’t going to let him have it, not today. 

With fast and determined strides you march over to the source of your misery. Pulling the thick cord from its component, you breathe out a small sigh of relief as the speaker falls silent. — “Oh come on, don’t be such a mood killer”, Beomgyu whines as he reaches for the cable in your hands, much to no avail as you step back. 

“Yeah, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Another voice carries out from somewhere to your left. Oh great, he was here too. Your glare is redirected from your pesky brother by his desk and over to his even peskier best friend. — Sprawled on Beomgyu’s bed, Taehyun shoots you a smug smirk as he watches the way your face contorts from anger into pure rage. 

There was little to be enjoyed about your brother’s best friend. And by little you mean nothing, the guy didn’t carry a single positive trait. Sometimes you thought he might’ve just been put onto this earth to serve as a plague to others. — Judging by how he made your life a living hell, you guessed it wasn’t far from it. 

Taehyun would come over more than often, it was almost as if he used yours and Beomgyu’s shared apartment as an extended home. Something about his dad being a shit person and him having nowhere else to go since he dropped out of college, at least that’s what your brother said. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. What you did care about was your studies, your peace and most importantly, quiet. 

You didn’t like Taehyun, you didn’t like the way he made your brother act. Sure Beomgyu was an ass most of the time, but it was manageable. Though whenever his best friend was around it was like your brother became a completely different person, an almost unrecognizable one. — Beomgyu was always the first to jump in front of Taehyun, defending his every word and action, all the while his so-called ‘best friend’ couldn’t be bothered to even lift a finger. 

“He’s got a rough time at home, cut him some slack.” Your brother had practically wailed as you had forbidden his friend from ever stepping foot inside your flat again.”I don’t care Beomgyu, he’s an ass. Can’t you see how he treats me?” You huffed as you ran a hand through your hair. But your brother only shook his head, feverishly grabbing onto your arm as he begged for you to reconsider. And unfortunately you did.  

“Come on, it’s only a bit of music”, Taehyun presses, propping himself up on his elbows as he tilts his head to the side ever so menacingly. You scoff in disbelief, gripping the wire tighter between your fingers. “If it’s only ‘a bit of music’ then I’m sure you’ll suffice without it.” Without waiting for them to get another word out, you turn on your heel as you storm out, not bothering to close the door behind you. 

It wasn’t like your hatred toward your brother’s best friend was unbiased. There were plenty of instances in which Taehyun had effectively fucked things up for you. Just thinking about them made your blood boil all over again. — For one, there was the shower incident. 

It had been a Thursday afternoon, your brother was in class but since yours had been canceled the day prior, you took some time to yourself. The apartment was silent, save for your quiet hums as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair, warm water cascading down your bare skin. — You later found out that Beomgyu, that idiot, had given him a spare key, and that’s how he got in. But unbeknownst to you on that fateful Thursday, Taehyun had let himself inside your home. For whatever reason, you had yet to be made aware of. 

Not only was he an annoying piece of shit human being, he was also a fucking perv. Upon turning the shower off, your hands in your hair as you squeeze the remnants of wetness from it, you pull the curtain to the side only to let out an ear-piercing scream as you come face to face with your brother’s best friend. — Taehyun was leaning against the door frame, arms neatly folded across his chest as his gaze roamed your bare body. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, immediately wrapping the drenched shower curtain around yourself as you shouted for him to get out. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes still fixed on your figure, barely shielded from his view. “Get out you freak!” Your words have little effect as Taehyun merely shifts on the spot, “I’m not a freak”, he counters, his brows drawing together in an offended frown. You scoff, “you act like one.” — He shakes his head, “a freak would like what he saw”, his eyes snap back up to your own, “I don’t.” 

Your mouth falls open in bewilderment as you let out a short breath of air. “Well then that solves it, get out.” The corner of his lip twitches, and he chuckles, shaking his head but he still complies; sauntering down the hallway without the decency to even apologize. 

The second incident happened not long after. 

“Where the fuck is my laptop?” You had turned your room upside down in search of the device, frantically going through drawers and getting on all fours to peek under your bed. But it was nowhere to be found. — “Beomgyu I swear to god if you so much as lay a single hand on my shit– …you!” Stopping dead in your tracks, your gaze falls on Taehyun, perched on the sofa in your living room with your laptop in his hands. 

He gives you a small grin, but it was impossible to not catch the mischief lingering in his eyes, “your brother said I could borrow it.” Your mouth opens and closes several times as you try to comprehend the scene before you. “Can’t you use his? — And did you fucking go in my room?” You practically seethe as you point an accusing finger toward him. But Taehyun only shrugs, his attention shifting back to the screen in front of him, “maybe.” 

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying the things on your mind. It was one thing to be allowed in your home, where he had made himself more than comfortable, but it was a whole other thing to go through someone’s stuff without their knowledge, much less their permission. — And you knew for a fact that Beomgyu hadn’t allowed him to take your computer, ass or not, he had at least some sense. 

When snatching the laptop back, you found that he had managed to install not one but three different viruses. It took you about a week to get rid of them all before you could resume your coursework, and after that, you made sure to hide your stuff well. 

Those were only a few of the many occasions in which you had wanted to snap his neck in half. And as you flop back down against the soft mattress of your bed, discarding the cable somewhere on your floor, you let your eyes shut as you prepare for the very long day ahead. 

⋮

You spent the majority of the remaining afternoon cooped up in your room. Immersing yourself in your studies as you sought to block out any indication of Beomgyu and his friend’s presence. It proved very difficult as the pair would yell at one another, the game they played blasting through your small apartment. It seemed like disconnecting just the speaker in Beomgyu’s room served a minor threat to their antics. 

Briefly you considered telling them off once more, but you realized that it would probably only add to the building headache you were already experiencing. Instead you waited them out, Taehyun was bound to leave sooner or later, right? — Wrong. By 8 pm the game was still roaring, loud as ever and you were beginning to lose your last piece of sanity. 

Just as you were about to head out and get a look for yourself, there’s a knock to your door. You don’t know why you had expected it to be his best friend, but you’re relieved when Beomgyu pokes his head through the small opening. “We’re ordering pizza, you want something?” He asks and you hesitate for a moment before nodding, “sure, get me whatever.” Your brother grins before disappearing once more. — Oh well, at the very least the obnoxious sound of their game had died down. 

You think about thirty minutes had passed, thirty minutes of the apartment being basked in a calm silence. It was nice, your mind finally felt clear, but the persistent ache pounding in your head had yet to subside. With lazy feet, you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, from the safety of your room, before venturing down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. 

Your light footsteps seemed to echo off the wooden floor, every small noise making your head flare up in pain. Gripping your temple, you reach for a glass to fill, the pour of water sounded like thunder in your ears. As soon as the pizza arrived, you would head back to your room, eat, and then go straight to bed. With that gameplan in mind, you swallow the small pain killer, chugging half of your glass before setting it down on the counter. 

“What’s that?” 

The voice of Taehyun makes you flinch as you spin around on the spot, catching him by the entryway, a harmless smile on his face. But you knew better, you could see right through him, or so you told yourself. “Where’s Beomgyu?” You ask, clearly on edge as you study him with distrust. — Taehyun shrugs, pushing himself off the door frame as he walks over to the small kitchen island. “He went to get the food.” 

“You didn’t go with him?” It was odd for the two of them to ever be seen without the other, but your brother’s best friend doesn’t seem to mind as he leans against the smooth marble. “No”, he simply states, his gaze falling on your discarded glass. — “You took something”, he then adds, his eyes flitting up to yours. Still wary of the intent behind his question, you frown. “Yeah, painkillers.”  — “Why?” 

His persistent probing both confused and irritated you. “I don’t think that’s got anything to do with you.” Your voice grows snarky, you know he can tell by the way his lips twitch into a small smirk. “Why the sudden apprehension? I’m just making small talk.” He sounds almost defiant as he shifts against the countertop separating you. Sure, but Taehyun had never made small talk for the two years Beomgyu had known him. In all honesty he hadn’t even bothered to learn your name until his fourth visit here. 

“Cut the bullshit, there’s no point in acting coy now.” You snap, grabbing your glass as you empty the remaining water down the sink before setting it down amongst the other dirty plates, you can feel his gaze on you as you do. With your back turned on him, it’s impossible to read the expression on his face, but the smugness in his voice speaks for itself. “I’m not acting. I wanted to talk to you, noona.” Your jaw clenches at the formality, the way he drags the word out, each syllable sickly sweet on his tongue. — You often forgot the fact that Taehyun was a year younger than both you and your brother; a fact he would use to get his way with Beomgyu, but that wouldn’t work on you, not in the slightest. 

“Why, so you could pester me further?” You wonder, turning back to him with a small grimace. He shakes his head, the smirk on his lips growing with each passing second. “Not at all, noona.” — Biting the inside of his cheek, he hesitates, if only for a moment, “this is the only way I could get you alone. Letting him go without me I mean.” 

You were almost certain that the lines on your forehead would become permanent if the frown on your face didn’t ease up soon. “And why would you want to get me alone?” You huff, trying to hide the sheer curiosity behind your snappy voice. Taehyun leans even further across the small island, inching dangerously close to where you’re currently standing. “Isn’t it obvious?” He cocks an eyebrow, letting his head tip to the side as his eyes roam your bitter expression. 

“I think you’re pretty.” 

Alright, that’s it, if Beomgyu doesn’t walk through the door right now you would surely have his best friend killed. Taking a small step back, you shake your head as you try your best not to laugh at the corniness of the situation. “Your jokes have not gotten any funnier”, you mutter, moving to walk around the countertop and head back to your room. In your haste, you fail to notice the frown etching itself onto his otherwise unwavering face as he turns around to follow your figure. 

It’s not until his fingers wrap around your forearm that you freeze. “Taehyun I’m serious–” Just as you’re about to tell him that you’re not in the mood for any more of his sly comments does he interrupt you. “Do you think I’m joking?” He sounds perplexed, and his eyes fervently search yours. You scoff, yanking your arm from his grasp as you fold them across your chest. “Why do you think I stayed behind? I mean, come on.” 

You want to tell him that no matter what comes out of his mouth could make you change your mind, much less your opinion on him. You want to tell him that he’s an annoying piece of shit asshole that’s made your life a living hell for the past two years now, and that you don’t understand what in the world your brother sees in him. But you don’t get the chance to get as much as a word out before Taehyun slams his lips on yours. 

It was sudden, and it felt forced, the way his hands grabbed either side of your face as he locked you in place, backing you up against the nearest wall in the process. Your first thought was that he kissed like a teenage boy, over the top and rough, his tongue pushing inside your mouth with little to no control as your teeth clashed together. Your second thought was, what the fuck is happening and why the fuck is he kissing me? 

Your hands jerk up to his chest, your eyes wide as you let out a strangled noise of surprise. Seemingly ignorant of your stunned reaction, he continues his assault to your lips, messily pulling your bottom one between his teeth, effectively drawing a small yelp from you. 

Taehyun was strong, a lot stronger than you, and it took a whole of three attempts to push him off. You’re both left panting for air, but while Taehyun looks to be in a clouded state, your face has contorted into a scowl. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You spit, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you eye him with disdain. 

He swallows, opening his mouth to say something but before you can hear it, the front door is unlocked, announcing Beomgyu’s return. Your gaze flits between Taehyun’s almost alarmed expression and to the entryway. Immediately seizing your opportunity, you dart out of the kitchen and down the hallway to greet your brother.  

You get there just in time to see Beomgyu kicking his shoes off, balancing three cardboard boxes in his hands. “Here, I’ll help”, you offer as you grab the pizza from his arms. He mutters out a quiet “thanks” before frowning, “what are you doing out here? I thought you’d locked yourself in your room.” — Rolling your eyes you turn back to walk down the hall again, “went to get some water”, you simply state, not waiting for him to catch up, but he does anyway, trailing behind you as he speaks, “where’s Taehyun?” Internally cringing at the mention of his name you shrug, “beats me.” 

Though Taehyun was exactly where you had left him, except now he was leaning against the wall, his usual and indifferent expression plastered on his face. You head straight past him, slamming the boxes down on the kitchen island as you rummage through the cabinets for a couple of plates. “Hey man, everything okay when I was gone?” Your brother wonders to which he merely receives a small nod from his friend, his friend who had his gaze intently fixed on your figure as you moved about the kitchen. 

“It’s getting kind of late”, you say as you pull a bottle of coke from the fridge, discreetly throwing a glance toward the clock on the oven. You prayed and hoped that at least one of them would catch on. Taehyun looks as if he’s about to say something, his lips slightly parted but your brother beats him to it. “Yeah you’re right, I reckon we’ll be done eating by 9.30.” Beomgyu turns to his friend with a small grin, a grin you knew all too well.

“Why don’t you stay over, Tae?” 

Your mouth falls open at the proposal. The completely uncalled for and unthinkable proposal. “I’m sure Taehyun’s dad will want him home..” — “No it’s fine, he couldn’t care less where I am”, the same lips that had been kissing your own not even ten minutes ago curl into a smirk as Taehyun watches you with gleam in his eyes. “I’d be happy to stay.” 

Swallowing the insults waiting on your tongue, you turn grab some glasses, intent on hiding the scowl on your face. The air was unusually thick, sure your brother was used to you and his best friend getting on each other’s nerves but there was something different lingering by the two of you today. And Beomgyu was not late to pick up on it. — “Did something happen when I was gone?” He wonders as he begins pouring soda for your small party. 

Taehyun remains silent as he rests against the wall, his expression near impossible to read. “No, nothing, why would it?” You snap, going through the boxes to find your pizza. “Alright”, he mutters before pointing to the cardboard box that held your food. — Mumbling out a quiet “thanks” you take it before reaching for one of the glasses. “I’ll be eating in my room.”

As you move around the island and head for the hallway once more, you can feel Taehyun’s eyes on you one final time before he falls back into a relaxed conversation with Beomgyu. — Not until the door to your bedroom is safely shut behind you do you breathe out the tension that had built in your body. Whatever Taehyun was playing at… you wouldn’t allow yourself to get pulled into his schemes. 

⋮

You stay in your room, listening to the sounds of the TV slowly dying out as your brother and his friend got ready for bed. You had made sure to use the bathroom before them, already clad in your pajamas, you sat on your bed as you waited for the apartment to fall silent. — It might have been just past midnight, or maybe it was even nearing 1 am when your head finally hit the pillow. 

But even though the flat was now being basked in an almost eerie silence, you couldn’t quiet the thoughts plaguing your mind as you tossed and turned on the mattress. Images of Taehyun flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t the usual Taehyun, the pesky one, the snarky and mean one. It was a different Taehyun, a Taehyun you did not recognize. 

You wanted to ask him why he kissed you, you wanted, no needed to hear him say that it was all a joke, a sick prank he was trying to pull. But when your mind so clearly envisions him, part of you thinks it wasn’t. “I think you’re pretty.” What a joke. Two years of pestering you and now he calls you pretty? No that settled it, it had all been a play, just another way for him to tease you. Just like he always did. 

The creak of a floorboard rips you from your overanalysis of the hours prior. Your eyes snap open and you still, holding your breath as you wait for anything to indicate the presence of someone else. “It could’ve been the wind”, you told yourself, or a flicker of your imagination, it was late after all. But the rattle of your door handle is unmistakable. 

You sit up, back pushed against the headboard as you watch the old wood glide open, revealing a shadow on the other side. It’s blurry, shielded by the darkness surrounding it but you can still make out Taehyun’s figure as he slinks inside your room, gently closing the door behind him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Your voice cuts like knives through the silent air, and Taehyun can thank himself lucky that Beomgyu was a heavy sleeper. 

At first he doesn’t say anything, aimlessly shifting by the corner. It’s impossible to make out his expression in the dimness of the night. When he finally speaks his voice is low, not hushed, but low, lacking all sorts of menace it usually held. “I can’t sleep when he’s snoring.” — A petty excuse, there had to be more to it. 

Shifting on the bed, you pull the blanket higher over your chest, suddenly becoming very aware of the thin nightgown you were wearing. “But that’s not why you’re here.” You state, this time in a less aggravated tone. You can hear him let go of a small breath, taking a step forward which illuminates half of his face as moonlight seeps through the cracks of your curtains. “No”, he breathes. 

“I…” He hesitates, you catch his hands balling up into fists for a moment before relaxing again. Then he suddenly grows bold, bolder than you’d ever seen him as he takes yet another couple of steps forward. He reaches the end of your bed and you tense up, eyes narrowing down on his frame. “What do you want, Taehyun?” The doubt and suspicion in your voice is clear as day and you see his jaw clench at your accusing tone. 

He runs a hand through his hair, restlessly shrugging his whole body. “Fucking hell, come on noona, don’t make me say it.” You freeze at the small formality, it still felt unreal, hearing it pass his lips so easily. Just what was going on? “If this is another one of your stupid pranks then I–” 

“It’s not.” He sounds determined, almost stern. The mattress dips as he sits down, immediately scooting closer and you find yourself backing up as far as the headboard would allow you to. It’s easier to make out his features now, the way his brows drew together, how he bit onto the inside of his cheek as his eyes remained on the pillow next to you, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why did you kiss me?” You had longed to ask the question, your mind practically reeling as it awaited his response. He blinks, once, twice, three times, then he swallows. “I thought if I…If I didn’t do it then…then I might never get the chance to again.” His brows furrow even further and he sounds as if he was at war with himself. “Why, do you mean you’ve been waiting to do this?” 

His once dazed gaze snaps over to you and he lets out a small scoff. “Of course I fucking have but you– your brother, he’s always around, I mean it’s impossible to get you alone and I..” He trails off, his fingers intertwining in the soft duvet as he pulls the silk into his hands, gripping it tightly. “My brother is your best friend.” You remind him, eyeing him with wary eyes as a confused frown etches its way to your face. 

“I know.” He runs his free hand through his hair, seemingly a nervous habit of his. “That’s what makes it so much worse.” — “Makes what worse?” You’re beyond puzzled, trying desperately to piece together the means of his otherwise scattered words. He huffs out a sharp breath, then he grabs your wrist with the same force he had used just hours earlier when he pinned you against the wall in the kitchen. In one swift motion he moves the palm of your hand to rest flat against his crotch, the prominent bulge makes your eyes widen as you try and pull your hand away. “This”, he practically seethes, his grip unwavering as he yanks you closer. 

“It’s torture, being in this house when I know that you’re just a room away.” His face is mere inches from yours and you find yourself at loss for words as you stare back at him. “I can’t even hang out with my best friend without my mind being clouded by his fucking sister.” He spits, letting your wrist go as he withdraws his hand, as if ashamed of his feelings. 

“Then why do you come here? If it’s such torture”, you wonder, rubbing your sore joint between your thumb and index finger. Taehyun looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter as he shakes his head. “Because it’s the only way I can see you, isn’t it?” — “Hell, even now, I’m forced to sneak into your room in the middle of the night to get you alone.” 

He inhales through his nose, his chest rising as he does, “don’t you understand, noona?” Your mouth parts in a thousand unspoken questions, none of which you ask. Slowly, you piece together just why he was here, why he had burst into your bedroom during the darkest hour of night, why he was so desperately sharing things you never thought you would ever hear him utter out loud 

The hesitation only lasts a second, then you find yourself leaning closer, so close that your lips pressed against his. A small peck, that’s all you give him before straightening your back once more. “I think I understand.” Your soft whisper is like a warm caress to his face and without waiting another second, he pulls you back, pressing his mouth against yours with the same urgency he had hours prior. 

You didn’t know what you had expected him to do, but pinning you down against the mattress of your bed was certainly far from it. His large hands cradle your face, his knees sinking into the bed either side of you as he holds you down. — It was wrong, it really was. He was your brother’s best friend, not to mention the fact that he had made your life a living hell these past two years. Were you really going to let one kiss change all of that? Taehyun’s hand caressing the bare skin of your thigh makes you think, yes. You could deal with the consequences tomorrow. 

He was all over you, kissing down your jaw and neck, his hands dipping beneath your nightgown to roam your chest, squeezing your tits before moving down your sides. It was almost as if he didn’t know where to start, too caught up in the fact that the unimaginable was actually happening. — “How long have you liked me?” You’re unable to hide the teasing edge to your voice, but he doesn’t seem to catch on. “F-Fuck since I first saw you”, he groans, yanking down your panties with one harsh tug as his fingers messily circle your clit. 

Letting out a moan of sheer surprise, you arch into his uncoordinated touch. “Then why did you act like such a bitch?” You question, your hands running through his dark hair before giving it a small tug, feeling him shudder against you. “H-ah, didn’t know what else to do..” He grunts, middle finger probing at your throbbing hole before pushing it in, drawing lewd sounds from you as you grip his soft locks tighter. 

“Why, do you get off on making me pissed or something?” Your comment was meant as a mere sarcastic remark, but Taehyun nods against the skin of your neck. “M’jack off to you so much”, he bluntly admits, adding a second finger to your dripping cunt as he does. You scoff, bewildered at just how deep his small crush was rooted, “that’s disgusting.” He only hums against you, thumb pressing down on your clit as he nibbles on your soft flesh. 

“That time in the shower”, he drawls, his lips moving up your throat, reaching your jaw before reconnecting on top of your own. “Can’t get it out of my head”, he groans into your mouth, his hard on pressing against your thigh in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling. “I thought you said you didn't like what you saw.” — He shakes his head, “m’lied”, he mumbles before pushing his tongue inside your mouth. 

“Please, let me have you, I promise I’ll be good from now on, noona.” 

The thought of denying him was sweet, a way to get back for all the shit he’d caused you. But the way your cunt clenched around his fingers made you waver in your decision. Your silence makes him slow down, he pulls back to study you intently, wet lips hovering above yours. — “Fine”, you huff, propping yourself up on your elbows, “do you have a condom?” When he immediately nods as he shuffles through his pockets you wonder just how long he had been thinking about this. 

He reaches for the hem of his pants but you swat his hand away, “give it here.” Gaze flitting from the small package between his fingers and your determined expression, Taehyun complies as he hands you the condom. With practiced habit, you slip a hand down his briefs, fingers wrapping around his leaking cock as you pull it from his sweats. You never thought you’d ever get to see a pretty dick, but it was the only way you could describe it. Flushed and pink, slick with precum as it throbbed in your palm, you clenched at the sight.

He lets out a small noise of pleasure as you give him a few lazy strokes, ripping the plastic packaging open with your teeth in the meantime. “You’ll be good, yeah?” Your question hardly requires an answer but Taehyun eagerly nods, emitting a small yes. The corner of your lip twitches, the sudden change in his demeanor was almost endearing. — He inhales sharply as you slide the condom on, making sure to drag out your movements as you do. 

Upon settling back onto the bed, you shoot his unmoving figure an expectant look. “Well what the fuck are you waiting on?” — Blinking, he immediately springs into action as he moves to hover above you, the tip of his cock pushing against your glistening folds as he lines himself up. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, noona”, he mumbles, gently pushing himself past your tight rim with a small groan. 

“Flattery won’t work on me”, you breathe, fingers reinstalling themselves in his hair as you tug his lips back onto yours. His moans vibrate on your tongue, the tip of his nose nudging your cheek as he presses himself even closer. “I mean it..” — “Shut up.” Your sharp tone makes his cock twitch inside of you and you have to bite back a sly remark. He pulls back, his heavy breath mixing with yours as he picks up a fast and rough pace. The snap of his hips makes the bed squeak beneath you, and you can only hope that Beomgyu was knocked out good in his own room. 

Your hands leave his hair, fingers trailing down his chest before dipping inside the fabric of his shirt. You knew that he was fit, often catching glimpses of his toned arms whenever he’d move about; yet you couldn’t help but marvel at how his broad back felt under the tips of your fingers. — “Noona”, his voice is gruff and his arms either side of you tremble, “m’close.” 

Your nails digging into the skin of his back makes him groan as his pace stutters. “I’m not”, you state, even though you felt your orgasm building in the pits of your stomach, the thought of letting him endure it for just a moment longer was satisfactory in itself. — Your hands move to his shoulders, urging him off as you flip your positions. Hesitantly he complies, leaning back against your soft pillow with a small frown, only for his face to contort into a breathless one as you slid down on his cock once more. 

“Being good from now on doesn’t solve things, does it?” You drawl, moving your hips tantalizingly slow as he writhed beneath you. The new position allowed for him to sink impossibly deeper inside of you, and the stretch of his thick shaft made your jaw slack. “You’ll have to make up for all the past shit you’ve caused me, got it?” He blinks before quickly nodding, large arms finding your waist as he helps you move quicker, rougher, on top of him. 

“I will”, he gasps, hips snapping up to meet yours impatiently. His eyes remained glued on the way your tits bounced with each movement, your perky nipples poking through the thin material of your gown. You felt him grow even harder, the throb of his cock matching that of your cunt, vigorously clenching down on him. He bit his lip, suppressing the sinful sounds on his tongue. “S-Shit noona.” The grip he maintained on your hips was bound to leave marks but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

One of his hands leaves your waist as he props himself up in an attempt to get closer to you. But he barely makes it halfway before you push him back down. His head hits the mattress with a small thud and he grunts in displeasure as his hand on your hip tugs you closer, making your lips part in a small whine at the wave of pleasure that shot through you. “Fuck, are you tryna wake your brother or something?” He huffs, lips curl into a menacing smirk as his thumb presses against your clit, making you shudder on top of him. 

“Why, I bet you’d love that wouldn’t you?” You scoff, hands moving down his chest as your nails scrape across his skin. He doesn’t answer, his jaw clenching as he jerks up inside of you, the movement followed by a string of hushed profanities. Rolling your eyes, you lean down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, the action has him stilling completely and he groans as he spills inside the condom, the twitch of his cock making you wince as you urged your own orgasm on. 

Your fingers close around his chin, pulling his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. “You’ll be good for your noona from now on, right?” He nods, immediately letting you push your tongue inside his hot mouth. “I will, I will”, he breathes, gasping as he feels your cunt clench around his already overstimulated cock; your high searing through you like never before. You never think you’d come this hard in your entire life, and to think that it was all because of your brother’s best friend. — Your thighs ached, arms burned, but your heart was beating uncontrollably fast as you finally pulled away from the kiss, leaning back to admire Taehyun’s fucked out expression. 

Fuck if only your brother knew what his best friend was up to at night. Seemingly reading your mind, Taehyun clears his throat, his now soft cock remaining inside of you as his hands caress your thigh. “You won’t tell Beomgyu about this?” — A small grin pulls at your lips and you shake your head. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that his best friend prefers his sister.”

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[nkplanet]

THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

older!dean x fem!reader cw age gap, nsfw below cut (mdni), size kink (+ implied choking kink?), bunker era (think s9-10, so dean is 34-36 ish and reader is early to mid 20s), a little angsty in one or two places

notes my final assignment of first year is due in 12 hours. i wrote this instead. also i don’t usually write smut so if it’s shit dhmu

older!dean was hesitant to do anything with you at first. there’s thirteen years between you, and he’d always said it was too much, that he was too old for you. eventually, after months of teasing and flirting and god knows how many repetitions of “i know what i want, dean,” he’d grabbed your face and kissed you hard.

older!dean treats you like glass that he could break at any second. he’s gentle — gentler than he ever was with any other girl. he kisses your forehead, always has a gentle hand on you, and generally takes care of you. he cooks for you, wraps blankets around you when you fall asleep researching, and acts like the definition of a gentleman (to sam’s utter delight — the new material he’s gained to tease his brother with is endless).

older!dean shares his music with you. you call him old for it, and he makes a suggestive comment about you benefitting from his experience. he makes you a tape of songs he loves and catches you playing it in your room on more than one occasion. the two of you bond massively over music, with him showing you the rock he grew up with and you showing him newer stuff, like paramore. he’ll never admit that he thinks hayley williams is awesome, but you know.

older!dean hates taking you out on hunts. you met through hunting, and you’re a damn good hunter yourself (his words), but that will never stop him worrying. he’s protective, almost overwhelmingly so, on hunts, and you’ve had more than one biting argument about how he needs to let up. he promises he will some day, but you still see his eyes on you constantly. he needs to make sure you’re there, to make sure you’re safe.

older!dean loves to tease you with pet names to see how flustered he can make you. there are some he uses that are nice, and make you feel nice and warm inside, like angel and sweetheart. (darlin’ with his texan twang, always gets you blushing.) he tries to call you baby, but you veto it, stating the age difference as a reason. he tries to tease you, occasionally calling you kid and kiddo until you stop calling him honey and start only referring to him as old man.

older!dean absolutely loses it when you get hurt. you go on a hunt with sam, despite your boyfriend’s protests at getting left behind, and when sam calls as a heads up that you’re injured, he’s an anxious mess until you reach the bunker. you walk through the door bruised and a little bloodied, and he’s all over you. he doesn’t leave you alone, even after you’ve been cleaned up and ordered to rest by sam. he’s constantly touching you, either holding your hand or rubbing comforting circles on your hip. even when you heal he’s hesitant to let you out of his sight again, stating in the middle of a dark night while he holds you close that he can’t lose you.

things with older!dean start out soft and pretty vanilla, as he doesn’t want to push you or hurt you. he’s so caring and gentle with you, making sure you enjoy yourself and holding you close and making sure you finish first.

when older!dean finds out you’re just as freaky as he is, it’s over for you. he’s relentless, testing new things with you almost every night. youre sure you’ve tried every position by now, but dean’s favourite is a tossup between missionary, where he can watch your face as he all but pounds into you, and cowgirl, where he can watch as you tire yourself out on top of him (being able to see your tits bounce is also a bonus).

older!dean loves it when you suck him off but let’s be honest: he’s a huge munch. he’s eaten you out in more places than you can count, including (probably) every surface in the bunker, the backseat and driver’s seat of the impala, countless motel rooms and even a few diner restrooms.

older!dean has trouble letting you take control sometimes. he feels a little strange, given the age gap between you, but when you do get chance? he loves it. being completely under your control, letting you do whatever you want? it’s like a dream come true for him. but, despite how many times you start on top, it always ends with him snapping his hips up into you or flipping you over and finishing what you started.

older!dean loves it when he gets to see just how much bigger he is than you. when he can hold your waist and his hand seems to just dwarf you, or when he has you in his lap and his hands cover your hips completely. he especially loves watching as he takes you, and when his large hand wraps around your throat with just enough pressure for you to feel it.

regardless of how vanilla or how insane the sex is, older!dean never misses a second of aftercare. he’s always right there, with either a warm bath or a damp cloth depending on how tired you are. he’ll massage your thighs after they’re spent from riding him or comb out the tangles he made in your hair, whispering sweet nothings to you and holding you like you’re fragile because, to him, you are. even when he’s let you take the reins, he holds you close as you drift off to sleep, pressing gentle kisses on your face and tracing his hand down your back.

[absurdthirst]

Under His Protection {Modern!Bodyguard!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 30.4k

Warnings: Lust, masturbation, attraction, deadly situations, attacks, panic, rough sex, tit slapping, vaginal sex, jealousy, oral sex (female receiving), abduction, Pero losing his damn mind, hospitalization, pregnancy, mentions of attempted sexual assault, mentions of murder, shame, guilt, blackmail

Comments: When your campaign turns dangerous, your father - the former Vice President - hires Pero Tovar to guard you. Leading you to clash with the grumpy Spaniard and maybe fall in love. Only the man you love has a secret he's been hiding.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

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

“Dad, I don’t need protection.” The argument is useless, especially in the face of your own ongoing campaign and face that there have been numerous threats received. Your campaign manager used to work for your father, and some days you want to fire the man for being more loyal to the former Vice President of the United States than you, until you remember the man is a genius at what he does. You roll your eyes as you look over at him, staring holes in his non-repentant gaze. You know Thomas believes you need a detail, but you don’t want your personal freedom restricted. “I promise.”

Your father shakes his head, “it’s not safe, sweetheart. I have enemies and with you running for congress…they could use you to get to me. I want you to be safe and the secret service detail means you’ll be able to attend events without worrying. Without me worrying.” He adds and you sigh, looking over at Thomas who nods, “your father is right. You need to protect yourself.” He adds. “There’s some crazy people out there that will use your campaign to get to me and you’ll get hurt. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re protected.” Your dad declares and you sigh, nodding in agreement. You know this is an argument you can’t win. “Fine.” You huff and Thomas nods, gesturing to the aids near the doors, “you’ll have a few on your team but they will be led by Pero Tovar. A Spanish veteran who doesn’t take any shit. He’s new to the U.S scene, but his resume is impressive.”

A man steps into the room, his expression almost dark, it's so severe and his suit matches the entire look. He feels dangerous and you shiver when those nearly black eyes fixate on you, feeling like he is looking into your soul. He has a distinctive scar through his left eyebrow all the way down to his cheek. His gaze is brief before he steps back against the wall and begins to check the exits. He’s handsome in a forbidden kind of way and you shiver slightly. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.” You protest again. “I’m supposed to be approachable. I can’t do that if I’ve got guards.”

Thomas shakes his head, “this is Pero Tovar. He’s well trained and he won’t get in your way. He will be by your side day and night until you’re elected. You’ll barely notice him. He’s good at what he does and he will keep you safe.” Thomas makes it obvious that there’s no room for argument. “So don’t argue. It’s done. He will be your guard and he will be moving into the apartment. You will barely notice him.” Your father says as his final word, not leaving room for argument.

Pero glances at you, well aware that you are unhappy with the edict, and he predicts you will be a problem. What he hadn’t predicted is that you are far more beautiful than he had realized from your picture. He frowns slightly, reminding himself that you are his detail. That frown is what you catch as his eyes cut away and you are instantly made aware that this man doesn’t like you. You hate the idea of being on the road and practically living with a man who hates you. Blowing out a breath, you turn to your father. “Any other life changing decisions made about me? Have you picked out my husband?” You ask sarcastically, wondering why your father believes he holds so much power over you, you are a grown ass woman who is running for a congressional seat.

Your father snorts, “if I thought I could pick him, I’d do it.” Your father says shamelessly, “but you’d have my balls.” He shrugs and Thomas chuckles in agreement. Pero stands with his hands clasped in front of him, watching curiously as you seethe in annoyance. “Is it so bizarre that a woman should run for congress without a damn husband? Should I pop out two kids to make myself electable?” You hiss, chest heaving.

“There have been some questions asked if you are a lesbian.” Thomas admits, making your father hum. “No, but it’s almost a shame, since it would be a big boost to the LGBT community.” He admits making you scoff. “I am not running on my sexuality, even if I was.” You remind them. “I’m not running on being the daughter of a former vice president either. This is my campaign and I’m running on what I believe in and what I believe I can accomplish for my constituents.”

Pero watches you curiously, wondering what your motivation is. He can see you are not simply running for power or planning to win on nepotism. He admires that but doesn’t show it as he stands beside the wall. “Tovar, you have your bag?” Thomas asks, drawing Pero’s eyes from you and he looks at your campaign manager to confirm he has what he needs for this job. He can follow you where you go to protect you.

Frustrated at both your manager and your father failing to acknowledge those truths, you stand up. “Well then I guess I better get my new bodyguard installed.” You snort, grabbing your purse and looking towards Pero Tovar. “Let’s go.”

Pero grabs his bag and swings it over his shoulder, nodding at you, and he nods at your father and Thomas as he follows you out of the room down the hall. “I am here to protect you. Not invade your life but I will intervene if I feel it jeopardises your safety.” He declares as he walks behind you.

“No offense, but my father and my campaign manager are overreacting.” You tell him. “They think that you are necessary, but I do not.” You look over your shoulder, a little intimidated by how close he is following.

Pero clenches his jaw at the way you dismiss him, “I do not care what you think is necessary. I care about keeping you alive, making sure you are unharmed. I am not here to be your friend, I am here to protect you.” Pero declares coolly, not wanting you to think he is here to support you.

You lift a brow at his gravelly, accented voice and hate how it makes you shiver. There’s something darkly appealing about the Spaniard, something that makes you think that he’s a criminal, even if he’s an agent. “I don’t need anymore friends.” You tell him, turning around and striding towards the door a little faster.

****

Pero sets his bag down when you enter your apartment and he holds his hand up, stopping you from walking past the foyer. “I need to do a check.” He grunts and steps into your apartment, his dark eyes scanning the windows and doors, looking for any sign of movement, of anything out of place. You huff, crossing your arms in annoyance and he ignores your protest as he continues doing what he was hired to do.

“How would you know if anything is missing?” You demand, cording your arms over your chest. Pero smirks and shrugs. “I went through your apartment earlier. Your father gave me a key.” You growl and shake your head, stomping towards your bedroom. “Stay out of my room!” You demand before you slam the door.

Pero chuckles at how petulant you sound and he makes his way to the spare bedroom, setting down his bag. He already put some suits in here earlier. He needs to look the part if he’s going to be your bodyguard. Your father, even as the former vice president, couldn’t wrangle the secret service for you, but he tried to. They wouldn’t give it to you so he hired Pero and his team. For now, only Pero is needed but at events, his team will be involved. William and Pero had set up the private security company after they met upon their separate arrivals in the U.S. They met at a boxing club and from there, Pero had never been able to get rid of the Irishman. You are pissed that he’s there but he doesn’t care about that. He is here to do his job and he will do it, no matter what it takes.

Even though you can’t hear him, you know he’s there. His presence is suffocating and it’s just the first day. Kicking off your heels, you flop down on your bed and sigh. You already hate being restricted and it’s only going to get worse from here. Staring at a photo of your mom, you wonder what she would think of all of this if she was still alive. Would she approve of what your dad is doing?

Your father stands in front of the fireplace, cigar in his hand as he looks at the photos on the mantel. Of his family. His career. His personal achievements. His biggest achievement is you. Even more than his time as vice president. He can’t lose you. Not like he lost your mother. She died five years ago and he still hasn’t gotten over the loss. He can’t lose you too. He has to protect you and if you want to run for congress, he can’t stop you, but he will do everything in his power to protect you.

An hour later, you’ve changed into some workout clothes and you come out of your room. Finally letting go of the annoyance of having someone else in the house, you pretend to not even notice him as you walk over to your shoe rack to put your sneakers on. You want to go to the gym that is a part of the amenities of your apartment building.

Pero grabs his shoes, putting them on, and he waits by the door. You huff, tying up your sneakers, “you can stay here.” Pero shakes his head, “no can do, princesa. I need to go with you so can you wait a few moments for me to change? I could use a workout or I can go as I am and stand in the corner.” He offers you a choice with raised eyebrows.

You roll your eyes and huff. “Two minutes.” You hiss, walking into the kitchen to grab a water bottle to fill up. He’s already pissing you off and it’s not even two hours into him being here. Pero disappears into the guest bedroom and you give him enough time to pull his clothes off before you leave the apartment.

Pero comes back out in shorts and a t-shirt, his gun tucked into the holster beneath his t-shirt and he pulls on his sneakers just as you are opening the door to leave. Your impatience makes him roll his eyes but he follows you down the hall, until you reach the elevator and he holds his arm out to push you back so he can enter first.

You blow out a sigh and don’t resist. “I’m not used to asking permission to go anywhere or do anything.” You remind him. “I am a grown adult. I can take care of myself.” It’s not his fault, you know this, but you also know that these cocky types are prone to running roughshod over the people they are ‘protecting’. You won’t be one of them.

He knows you’re pissed off at his presence but he’s not paid to keep you happy, he’s paid to keep you safe. He watches you press the button for the gym and he can’t help but stare at you, trying to figure you out. You’re a grown woman, beautiful, and smart. You’re not married, no kids, and you are running for office. You’re brave. “What?” You huff, feeling his eyes on you. “Nada, princesa. Just…observing.” He hums as the doors open and he steps out to inspect the surroundings.

You snort, rolling your eyes as you are allowed to walk in front of him down the hall towards the gym. “I suppose you have to check the gym before I walk in?” You ask, stopping by the door even though you can see through the glass walls. “I don’t think a crazed person is waiting to get me while I run on the treadmill.” Pero ignores you and sweeps into the room before turning back and nodding towards you. “Look- can we compromise?” You ask. “I’ll put up with the protection detail while we are out of the building, but in here….just….don’t make it obvious that you are guarding me?” You ask quietly. “I will have to live around these people long after you have moved on to another protection detail. I don’t want them thinking I’m….snooty. I get that a lot already.”

Pero can’t help but snort, “you shouldn’t care about other people. You should only care about your own safety and not what other people think. You won’t know what they think if you’re dead and buried in the ground.” He says bluntly and steps into the gym to check the surroundings, he gestures you inside when he thinks it’s clear.

You clench your jaw, willing to make a compromise but the blasted man thinks that he's in charge. “I don’t give a flying fuck who hired you or what you think.” You hiss, poking him in the chest. “This is my life and I will live it according to how I see fit. Push me and I will throw your ass out of my apartment and you can sleep in the doorway.” You threaten before turning on your heel and marching over to the treadmill, needing to work out your frustrations.

Pero inhales deeply, knowing you’re going to make his job impossible, but what can he do? He huffs and makes his way over to the weights, deciding to make the most of the time in the gym. He watches you start walking on the treadmill and he tries to avert his eyes but they trail down to your ass, making his cock twitch as it starts to bounce when you begin jogging.

You don’t listen to music while you run, instead you focus on the tv mounted to the wall, turned on the news. Trying your hardest to ignore the only man in the gym with you until you can pretend he is just some random man instead of being paid to keep constant tabs on you. When you can do that, you can feel your body start to relax and your muscles burning from the exertion.

Pero listens to you pant as you run and he grunts as he lifts the weights with his arms. He still watches his surroundings as he works out but his eyes keep finding their way back to you. Jesus, you’re gorgeous and he wonders why you aren’t attached to anyone. Maybe it’s because you're a hard worker. He can tell that already. He doesn’t get involved with his assignments but he will be jerking off later thinking about your ass. He can’t deny himself that. Setting the weights down, he settles on a machine to work on his back.

You spend an hour on the treadmill before you slow it down to cool down. Sweaty and tired, you could just quit, but you know you should do some weightlifting as well. While you know that you are not overly muscular, you want to be in good shape for your own health as well as your appearance.

Pero groans as he sets the weights back in the machine. He looks over at you as you pick up the weights, working your arms, and he admires your figure. You really are beautiful but your tongue is like barbed wire concealed by sweetness. A true politician. He grunts as he picks up the weights again, his ears listening for any changes around him.

You are very aware of Pero as you work on your upper body strength. Glancing over at him, you are struck by the moving and bunching muscles. He is strong and competent, something that you always admire in a man. You like one that is physical, not just the smarmy Ivy League men you are used to being around. Groaning to yourself, you realize he’s very attractive.

Pero grunts as he rolls his shoulders after he sets the machine back to how it was. He can feel you watching him but he knows it’s to ascertain how capable he is of protecting you. He might have a weapon but he can kill a man with just his hands. He sighs and wipes his brow with his t-shirt after he stands, exposing his stomach.

Your eyes widen slightly, feeling your cunt clench at the sight of his almost ripped stomach. He's not all muscle, but he’s well defined. You quickly drop your own weights and grab your water bottle to distract yourself. You can’t develop something for this man, you can’t.

Pero carries on with his routine, finishing with a stretch, and you do your own stretches. He watches your ass as you bend over and he hisses at your ass on display, turning around to avert his eyes. He can’t want you, he can’t afford to get kicked from this job. He sighs and grabs his water bottle, taking a gulp of it as you finish your workout.

You wipe down the equipment once you are done and take another drink of water. “Can I shower by myself when I get back to the apartment or do you need to get in first to make sure there’s no one in there to molest me?” You ask sarcastically when he joins you and both of you move to the door. You are exhausted and your body aches, so it will be good to clean up and maybe soak a little in the tub.

Pero hates that the first thing that comes to his mind is asking if you want him to join you in the shower but he bites his tongue. He needs to get hold of himself and not let himself think of you as anything other than a target. “I will need to check the apartment when we enter but the shower…you can be molested in there without me checking.” He snorts and opens the door, his hand resting on his gun in case he needs it.

You snort, taking it as a joke, and appreciating the sarcastic humor. “I might like it.” You huff, “it’s been long enough.” Your last relationship ended badly and you’ve been too busy campaigning to think about dating or even hooking up with someone casually. It wouldn’t be a good look anyway. Men are held to a lower standard than women and you can bet your opponent would use the phrase ‘loose and promiscuous’ woman in their speeches tearing your integrity down.

Pero is surprised by that. You’re a beautiful woman and most men would walk over the coals to be near you, especially with your connections, but he can understand why you probably are cautious about relationships considering what you are trying to achieve. Pero doesn’t say anything as he strides through your apartment to the second bathroom so he can shower himself. His cock is half hard and he’s trying to ignore it but when he’s under the hot water, it becomes impossible to ignore his throbbing length so he gives in. Allowing himself this one time to imagine fucking you in that gym on the bench, bending you over and making you cry out his name.

You’re a little relieved that Pero didn’t check your shower, because you know that the toy you had used this morning is still suctioned to the wall. You can’t see it behind the frosted glass, but you would be embarrassed to know that he is aware of your preference for a girthy dildo. Stripping out of your sports bar and pants, you wonder if the brief flashes of his cock through his shorts was as thick as you imagined it to be. He's probably uncut too, something that makes your mouth water as you climb into the shower under the hot spray.

Pero groans as he cums, spurting his seed onto the tile wall that he cleans off after he recovers from his orgasm. It’s wrong, so fucking wrong, and William would be hitting his head to get him to snap out of it but he can’t help himself. He finds you attractive. He will put up his walls again when he leaves the bathroom, determined to remain professional.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” You moan, lifting up onto your toes as you push back against the wall. The thick toy breaking you open and making your cunt clench around it. It’s so wrong, thinking about those dark eyes and that scowl while you impale yourself on the silicone dildo, but you imagine how rough he would be. He’s not even touched you but you know he would be rough enough to leave bruises under your skin.

****

Pero sighs when you walk past him to get yourself a drink from the fridge. He feels guilty for jerking off thinking about you but he felt so wound up by watching you in the gym. He looks up from his phone just as you turn your back to him, “Thomas gave me your schedule. You have a dinner tonight with your team. I need to scope out the restaurant, find the exits, and have my team cover the perimeter.”

You roll your eyes. “I guarantee that no masked murder will be hiding in the back room of the restaurant.” You huff. “Do whatever you want, I just want you to be invisible. This is an important dinner and I don’t want them to worry about me.”

Pero nods, not wanting to argue with you when his job is to keep you safe. That's all that matters. He watches you move around the apartment until you disappear into your bedroom to get ready and he follows suit. Getting into his dark blue suit, he adjusts his holster and his tie while he waits for you to come out of your room.

Fixing your earring in your ear, you sigh slightly. “Shit.” You are a little too sore from your work out to zip your dress all the way up in the back and it pisses you off because you are going to have to ask Pero to zip it. You walk out into the living room with your clutch. “I need your help.”

Pero looks up when you walk into the living room and his mouth goes dry. Mierda, you’re beautiful. He licks his lips and stands up, gesturing for you to spin around. You nod and his fingers grip the zipper, dragging it up and his fingers brush your spine as he zips you up. “There you go, princesa.”

You suppressed a shiver when his fingers brush against your skin. “Thank you.” You murmur quietly. “I’m ready to go. Do you have to drive me?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Pero nods, “part of the job, princesa.” He explains and you sigh, “fine. Let’s go, otherwise I will be late.” Pero gestures to the front door, making his way out of the apartment to call the elevator, his jacket unbuttoned in case he needs his gun.

You try to ignore how sexy his protective stance is as he guides you into the car. You’ve never been this aware of a man, especially one who was supposed to blend into the background. It’s going to become a problem if you let it.

Pero watches you from the corner of his eye as he drives to the restaurant your assistant booked for this event and when he pulls up to the valet, he gets out and rounds the car to open the door for you. His team is already in place, assessing the exits and staff. All he needs to do is get you in your seat and keep watch. He holds his hand out to help you out of the car and you take it, making his stomach twist at how good it feels to hold your hand. That makes him scowl and he guides you into the restaurant.

The first touch makes him scowl and you snatch your hand back, almost embarrassed that you’ve been entertaining fantasies about this man in your head, attracted to him, and he obviously can’t stand you. The look on his face is nearly pure disgust and it’s like an icy dose of reality.

Your back stiffens and Pero knows he’s nothing more than an aggravation to you. That’s good. It reminds him to be professional so he watches you greet your guests and settle at the table while he takes a seat a few tables over, trying to ignore the Irishman staring at him. “You look tense, old boy.” William goads him and Pero clenches his jaw, trying to conceal his annoyance.

“She’s a pain in the ass.” He grunts, making William grin at the short, clipped words. He knows the Spaniard well and there is something else going on. “I take it she doesn’t agree with your protection methods?” He snorts, knowing that Pero is abrasive and sometimes rubs people the wrong way. “Lot prettier than I thought.”

Pero shrugs, “haven’t noticed. She’s annoying and thinks she knows better. She’s a handful.” The Spaniard huffs and William smirks, “oh I bet she is.” Pero turns his head to glare at the Irishman for overstepping and William holds his hand up, “all I’m saying is that you just gotta protect her until she’s elected. Her Pa is offering a nice sum to us to keep her safe so if she’s a little sour, maybe try to be sweeter?” He offers some advice and Pero chuckles, “we both know that the last thing I’ve ever been described as is sweet, amigo.”

William smirks, knowing that underneath the gruffness of the Spaniard is a good man who is far more loyal than he would have imagined being. Maybe guarding a pretty politician would be good for his disposition. “At least you get to sleep in the apartment. It’s a step up from having to stand guard outside.”

Pero snorts and nods, “that’s true. That asshole from last month had me standing outside in the fucking rain.” He rolls his eyes and taps his fingers on the table, taking a sip of his water that the waiter set down while you are getting into the discussion at your table. Pero watches how everyone keeps their eyes fixed on you, almost mesmerized and he knows it’s not just him who is entranced by you.

Connecting with your team is important to you. You want them to know who you are and what you stand for on the issues. If they are going to knock on doors, and basically tell the state to vote for you, you want them to understand your approach. It’s different from most campaigns where only senior members get access to you, this is a meeting with the junior staffers. The ones who might be volunteering to put it on a college application or to hope for an internship once you are hopefully elected. You take a sip of your seltzer and lime, nodding as you listen to one of the young men bring up some interesting points that could be made at your scheduled debate next month.

Pero watches you with admiration. It’s obvious that people adore you, listen to you, and want to follow you. It’s a power that not many people have and he wishes he had that kind of power. Most people are terrified of him. He leads with fear, not admiration. He ignores William staring at him and takes another sip of his drink as he glances around the room, eying the other patrons.

You can feel eyes on you, that isn’t unusual. You have had eyes on you at various stages of your life, it’s normal. This feels different. Turning your head, you find your guard’s eyes on you, dark and brooding. Your own gaze pointed, it’s almost a staring contest for a moment until your aid touches your arm and you turn back to the group, rejoining the conversation.

Your eyes seem to burn him and he stares at your back after you turn away. Your eyes pierce his soul and he doesn’t know how to handle it when he’s stowed his heart away for so long. He’s never allowed himself to love, to give himself to another. His mother was killed by his father when Pero was a boy after she tried to leave him with her son and Pero ended up in an orphanage - his father in jail - until he joined the army at eighteen. He’s had a hard life but he won’t let it define him, he won’t allow his harsh upbringing to define his life.

The night is a success in your eyes and you are watching as the group becomes more relaxed as they have more drinks. You stick to your non-alcoholic drink, preferring not to drink in public if you can help it. Too many chances for humiliation or mistakes to be made. Plus, you honestly get a little horny when you drink and you don’t need to show that side of your personality.

When you give the signal that you’re ready to leave, Pero stands and buttons his jacket, looking over at William who smirks, “see you at the next event, my friend.” Pero nods and walks over to you, glancing around the room. “You ready, princesa?” He asks and you nod so he places his hand on your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant to your car.

You hate that the first thing you notice is how big his hand is. Spanning widely on your back and feeling like it’s burning through your dress. “Did you eat?” You ask, never seeing him with a plate tonight when you looked over at him.

Pero shakes his head, “I will eat later when I am alone. My job is to protect you, not to eat.” He declares and you huff, “sacrificial as well as brooding.” You snort and Pero wants to roll his eyes but he can’t. “Not sacrificial…professional.”

You do roll your eyes and sigh. “Are there any restrictions you have in your diet?” You ask, wondering why he is being so difficult about you making sure he has eaten. You make sure all your staff eats.

“No restrictions.” He informs you, wondering why you’re asking. He can grab something when he knows you’re home safe and he can have one of his men stand watch while he gets something to eat.

You hum quietly as you walk outside with him to the car that has been brought to the front of the restaurant. You’ve got plenty of food at the apartment and can whip him up something quick. You’ll just have to buy more groceries while he’s staying with you so he’s not having to get take out or to-go for every meal. You hate when you eat out all the time, it makes you feel bad. “Good.” You let him open the passenger door without complaint and toss him a small smile of thanks.

Pero is confused by your lack of annoyance towards him at that moment. You seem to be…nice. It unnerves him but he doesn’t take it for granted as he settles into the driver’s seat and turns the engine. “Did your dinner go well, hermosa?” He asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

You are surprised by the almost affectionate nickname, lifting a brow but he’s unaware of that as he navigates onto the street. “Very well.” You agree, settling back into the seat and watching as the street lamps flash by. You are aware that another car is following behind you, his team. “The staff need to feel appreciated and like they are working towards a common goal beyond getting me elected. I want them to feel like they are making a difference.”

“Are they?” He asks, raising his eyebrow, “I mean, you’re running on your values but are they really going to make a difference? In my experience, politicians promise a lot and deliver nothing. That’s why I don’t bother voting. It’s not going to change anything.”

“Nothing will change unless we try.” You understand the cynicism, you’ve grown up around it on both sides. “All I can do is be transparent. Show the bills that I work to introduce. I have promised to have a daily website updated on the work we will be accomplishing.”

Pero is impressed but he isn’t sure if you can deliver. Running on essentially a nepotism ticket, he’s curious to see if you end up getting elected based on yourself or on your father. He doesn't voice those opinions, knowing you wouldn’t like to hear them. Instead, he drives you home without another word.

You feel better when you are pulling into the parking garage of your building. The entire thing is secure, so you wonder why you have to have Pero staying with you. Although, during the course of the meal, you had learned to accept it. It wasn’t going to change and after the election, you will put your foot down. “Home sweet home.” You groan, climbing out of the car and walking with Pero towards the doors that lead to the elevator. “Where are you normally living when you aren’t with your clients?”

Pero shrugs, “I don’t really have a home. I work from one job to the next so I just keep what I need with me and go from there.” He confesses and walks into your apartment to do a sweep before he lets you in.

That sounds….lonely. You frown slightly but you don’t ask anymore questions as you set your clutch down and kick off your heels. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” You tell him, turning and walking barefooted into the other room.

Pero nods, making his way into the bedroom he’s occupying and he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it up, and he removes his tie, toeing off his shoes and he rolls his shoulders as he gets comfortable. He removes his holster and checks his gun, setting it down on the nightstand.

With what is in the fridge, making a simple stir fry is the easiest thing to whip up. You pour yourself a glass of wine, feeling like you deserve it after the night and pull vegetables out to start sauteeing them in a pan with ginger and soy sauce, a little hoisin and garlic. You have some chicken that is already grilled that will be chopped up and added. Some leftover rice will complete the meal and hopefully your guard won’t turn his nose up at your simple dinner. It’s not as good as what he would have gotten in the restaurant, but you don’t want him to slap a sandwich together. You hum to yourself as you stir the dish together and take a sip of your wine. 

Pero smells your cooking as he exits the guest room and he bites his lip to smother the groan. He sighs and makes his way into the living room, looking across to the kitchen to where you are standing at the stove. “You didn’t have to cook for me.” He says as he makes his way over to the counter.

“You didn’t eat.” You plate up the food, a generous portion and set it down in front of a seat at the bar. “I won’t be the little woman, pressing your suits or darning your socks, but I make sure my staff is taken care of.” You smirk slightly. “And right now, that includes you.” You raise your glass of wine in toast. “Drink? We are all tucked in for the night. You can have a glass.” 

Pero shakes his head, “no. I never drink while I’m working. Just in case something happens at night. I can’t not be in control of myself in case I need to protect you.” He says as he sits down and he is impressed by your cooking skills. You’re more than a pretty face.

You can respect that, so you go back to the fridge to grab a bottle of water to set down beside his plate. “Your professionalism is admirable.” He grunts and you chuckle before you set your glass down to start cleaning up. It won’t take long and you hope that he will relax and eat since he can keep his eyes on you at the same time. 

Pero feels guilty that you are doing this for him but he picks up his fork and digs in, groaning softly at the taste. “You’re - wow. If you lose the election, you could be a chef.” He compliments you and takes a gulp of water. He’s hungry but his needs come second when he is looking after a client.

You always like the sound of someone enjoying your food. Too often you are eating by yourself and working in the evenings. “Thank you, but hopefully I won’t lose the election.” You grin as you wash the pan, glancing over your shoulder to watch him take a bite. “Although I do like to cook. It’s a hobby as well as a necessity.” You snort. “I hate getting take out all the time.” 

Pero hums, swallowing his bite, “I don’t think you’ll lose. The other guy is an asshole. You’re a capable, smart young woman. You’ll win.” He assures you and he picks up the water bottle after setting down his fork. “You should keep cooking, princesa. You’re good.”

“Thank you.” You’re happy he enjoyed the food and you turn back towards him as he finishes the water. “Anything in the fridge is up for grabs. Don’t worry about buying your own food or drinks. If you are going to be staying here, you should be comfortable.” You tell him. “Start the dishwasher when you finish and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Pero nods, “I will. Goodnight, princesa.” He says softly and you offer him a soft smile, making your way into your bedroom and Pero watches you go. He sighs and looks down at his plate, recognizing that you are more than you seem. He enjoys his meal and puts his plate in the dishwasher, turning it on. After cleaning up, he checks the doors and windows before he makes his way to his room and gets ready for bed.

You change from your dress to comfortable pajama shorts and a tank top, washing your face clean of makeup and doing your skincare routine before you go back out to the kitchen to grab some water. Humming to yourself when you see the light on in the spare room. It will be interesting to see how it will be with this guard living with you.

****

Pero watches you as you sit down to study your notes for your speech. Your speech is at your Alma Mater and you are trying to get the kids out to vote. Especially vote for you. Pero hates how many people are at this event but there’s nothing he can do. His team has already studied the auditorium and he’s ready to be by your side. It’s been a couple of weeks since he started working for you and he’s observed you. Liked how much you care and how passionate you are. Maybe jerked off a few more times thinking about you but he would never admit that to anyone. “Are you ready, princesa?” He asks, wanting to check in.

Looking up, you are struck by how handsome he is. Pero Tovar is starting to become a problem and you have lost sleep over how much you think about him when you are alone in your bed. “Ready.” You nod, standing and gathering your notes before you straighten your smart skirt suit. “Do I look alright?”

Pero's mouth goes dry as he looks at you, "uh, sí princesa. You look - you look perfect." He says without the gruffness that is usually present when he speaks to you. He hates how he stumbles over his words but he can't tell you that he thinks you look like a goddamn angel and he's the devil that's wanting to tempt you down to the lowest depths of hell so he can ravish you. He doesn't deserve to even look at you, let alone touch you.

You honestly enjoy his compliments, hermosa and princesa. You know he doesn’t mean it as an insult, you honestly don’t know if he even is aware he calls you those names. “Thank you.” You smile softly, knowing that he will be beside you on the edge of the stage. “You look handsome too. The kids will be intimidated.”

He snorts and stands up, buttoning his jacket that conceals his gun holster. He sighs and he walks over to the door, opening it after checking the hallway and he nods for you to exit the apartment. “You’re going to be incredible.” He says once you’re in the car and he’s driving you to the auditorium.

You are always nervous before a speech and you shuffle through the speech again. “This is the halfway point of the election.” You remind yourself. “We are almost there.”

Pero watches you as you shuffle your notes, checking them, and he can tell you’re nervous. “You’re gonna be amazing.” He murmurs, wanting to reassure you in this moment when it’s just the two of you before your aids are rushing you around.

You wonder if you’ve managed to sway him, not having spoken of political ideology with him again. You respect his position and don’t want him to feel as if you are pressuring him for his support. “Thank you.” You sigh and set the notes down. “I don’t want people thinking that I’m just running because of who my father is.” You admit. “It’s more than that.”

Pero knows you want people to see you and not your father but that's easier said than done. He nods, "they will know. You'll always have the assholes who question it but you know who you are and what you stand for. That's the hard part to figure out. You'll be fine, hermosa." He promises and focuses back on the road.

It’s ironic that you feel so supported by a man who is paid to protect you. “Your man William, he said that you and he have been friends for a long time?” You enjoy talking to the Irishman, even though he’s not often in charge of you, Pero prefers to keep by your side. “Something about an assignment in China?”

Pero grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh, it was a long time ago but we went to China together. Heard that there was some black powder that was worth a fortune. We both had left our respective armies and wanted to enjoy our lives so we went to China to find the powder and we ended up fighting in a revolution. William fell in love and well, the black powder was a myth. We barely made it out alive but we fought for what was right at the time.” He confesses, remembering how vicious the fighting had been.

“I can’t imagine what you have seen as a soldier.” You murmur, understanding now why you sometimes hear sounds coming from his room, followed by a sleepless prowl around the apartment. His past haunts him. You reach out and touch his arm. “If you ever need to…talk, I’m available to listen.” You offer softly, aware that he might be offended by the suggestion, but you spend so much time together.

Your touch burns him but he doesn’t shrug you off like he might’ve a few weeks ago. He stops outside the back of the auditorium where your staff are waiting and he nods, “thanks, hermosa.” He murmurs, his dark eyes meeting yours and he can’t believe how kind you’re being to him.

You nod and quickly climb out of the car, surrounded by your staff with last minute comments and suggestions. You listen, but you are thinking about Pero, how he seems to be softening when it comes to you and you wonder if you are imagining the heat in his eyes when he looks at you.

Pero stays close as your staff guide you through to backstage and his eyes follow you while keeping his eyes on the perimeter. “So there's literally people waiting outside who couldn’t fit in the auditorium and the fire chief won’t let people stand so we are arranging a screen to put outside.” Thomas tells you excitedly, unable to believe how packed the place is.

“Seriously?” Your eyes widen in surprise and you can’t believe how many people have shown up to hear you speak. “Wow.” You huff. “That’s amazing.”

Pero is pleased for you but he’s also concerned there’s a security risk with so many people present and he grabs his phone to message William who is keeping watch outside. Pero reaches for your elbow, pulling you back for a second, “you need to be careful, princesa. I will sweep the perimeter but you need to keep your focus and let me do my job.”

You sigh softly, knowing that there is no use in protesting. He will just make things more difficult if you protest. Nodding, you move over towards the curtain and peek out at the crowd. “I won’t do anything reckless.” You promise.

Pero nods, mollified for now, but he sighs as he watches you prepare. He is impressed when he witnesses you transform before his eyes, your spine straightening and he admires your moxie. “Good luck, hermosa.” He murmurs and Thomas gestures for you to take the stage.

When you are announced, you enter the stage, beaming a smile at the audience and waving like this is something you do everyday. You are nervous, but it doesn’t show. Happy to have the support, you confidently walk over to the podium, shaking the hand of the dean who had announced you. “Thank you. I have to say that I am honored to be here, speaking in front of all of you tonight. Many times I was sitting where you are now, wondering if the person on stage knew what the hell they were talking about.” You admit with a laugh.

Pero stands in the shadows watching you and his chest swells with pride even though he is just doing his job to make sure you are safe. He watches you make your speech and he scans the audience from his place. When you start to speak about your mission, Pero crosses his arms and watches you, a soft smile on his face at how passionate you are. That moment…it’s all it takes for someone to scream and rush up on stage. The slight distraction is enough for someone to get close to you and Pero’s heart stops.

In an instant, the high of the crowd turns to terror as someone rushes the stage, screaming so loud that you can’t understand what they are saying. It catapults the crowd into chaos when someone screams ‘gun’ and all hell breaks loose. You do exactly what Pero has instructed you to do, dropping down to use whatever is in front of you as cover while your heart gallops in your chest.

“Fuck.” Pero growls as he rushes on stage. His team are already taking down the asshole who stormed the stage and Pero has his gun in his hand as he ducks down, covering your body until the threat is taken away. The man yells as he’s dragged off and Pero helps you up. You’re shaking and he ignores the cry of your staff as he rushes you off stage and back to the car. His heart pounds as he scans the area, his hand on your back as you run to the car. He pushes you into the car and runs around the hood, sliding in before he’s squealing away from the auditorium.

Your hands are shaking, your entire body is shaking as the adrenaline courses through you. “I- I- I-“ You can’t even form a sentence. “He- did he-“ you want to ask if he had a gun, or if you were hearing things. Someone just attacked you. Someone just tried to hurt you. Your mind is empty except those singular thoughts repeating.

Pero doesn’t respond, his only focus is to get you somewhere safe and the closest place is your apartment. He grabs his phone and calls the man he has watching your place right now. “Code Orange. Is the apartment secure?” Pero asks his man who confirms with the password Pero put in place and your guard presses his foot on the accelerator a little harder to get you home faster. His fingers grip the steering wheel and you are rambling but he doesn’t respond, too focused on keeping you safe.

“I need- I need to call Thomas.” Your chin trembles and you are almost in tears as the reality of what could have happened settles. “They- the staff, oh god, the staff could have been hurt. We- we have to go back. We have to make sure that the staff is okay!”

Pero clenches his jaw, not allowing himself to say anything until he’s pulling into your parking garage and cuts the engine once he’s in your space. He opens the door and grabs his gun from the holster just in case so he can escort you to the elevator. He remains silent, not saying a word until he is certain that you’re safe. You are shaking as he escorts you into the apartment. He locks the door to your apartment and spins round to face you, shoving his gun into the holster, his hands slide down your sides as he finally says “are you okay?”

“The staff- Pero-“ you choke out a sob and nearly collapse but he is keeping you upright. You can’t say anything else, but your chin trembles and you stare into his dark eyes helplessly.

Pero stares at you for a second, the terror in your eyes, and he can’t help it. He surges forward to press his lips to yours, his hands squeezing your waist to pull you against his body.

Safety. Comfort. Surprise. All of those things make you gasp and he takes advantage of that by slipping his tongue into your mouth. The feel of it, of him makes you moan. Pushing what just happened or might have happened out of your mind and giving you something else to focus on. Throwing your arms around his neck, you press closer, needing more from him and silently demanding it.

Pero spins you around, pushing you up against the front door and his hands grab your thighs, your skirt bunching up as he lifts you up. His tongue slides against yours and his cock is hardening in his pants as he kisses you hard.

You moan again, loving how rough he’s being with you. Taking what both of you apparently need and you try to grind down against his cock. Desperate to feel him, feel anything but the terror that had been flooding your system. Needing a release that shows you that you are still alive.

Pero knows this is wrong. He knows he should stop and let you go to your room but his heart is pounding in his chest and his cock is hard for you. He kisses down your throat, and his hands squeeze your thighs, “tell me to stop.” He rasps against your skin, “tell me to stop and I’ll put you down and we will forget this.” He gives you the chance to tell him to stop.

“Don’t stop.” You beg, turning your head to kiss along his brow and down to his cheek. “Don’t stop. Take me to bed. Touch me.” You are shameless and you should be embarrassed but the desire you’ve tried to bury for him is too much right now. “I want you.”

Your words ignite the fire within him and his lips find yours again, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he turns and carries you through your apartment. Stumbling a little against the coffee table but he’s soon setting you down outside your bedroom door, reaching behind you to open it. He groans your name and pushes you back into your room, shrugging off his jacket to display his holster and gun.

You never thought a gun could be sexy before. Dangerous and intimidating, yes, but not sexy. This, the shoulder holster and gun that is stretched over his broad frame, is sexy. Almost making you whimper and beg him to use it on you. Finding it utterly humiliating to discover you might have a gun kink. Or maybe it’s just a competency kink. Your heels fell off your feet in the living room when he picked you up and you strip out of your own jacket to reveal the low cut blouse underneath. “Fuck you are so sexy.” You pant.

Pero unclips the holster and checks the gun’s safety is on before he sets it down on your dresser. His dark eyes focus on your cleavage and he groans, “you are intoxicating, princesa.” He murmurs and surges forward to lean down, his lips pressing against the exposed skin and his hands grab your waist to pull you closer as he licks along the swell of your breast.

You moan, fingers fumbling with the buttons on your blouse to allow him more access. Wanting him to take everything from you and make you think of nothing but him. “Pero, please.”

He grows impatient and he grabs the material of your shirt, ripping it so the buttons go flying across the room. He groans when he sees the lace of your bra and you shrug off the ripped material. His hand cups your breast and he leans down a little more so he can take your nipple into his mouth through the lace.

You cry out, his teeth biting down on your breast and you love how he’s treating you. “Yes.” You pant, your hands pulling his suit shirt out of his trousers and fumbling for his belt. “Knew you would be rough. Fuck more, Pero.”

Pero doesn’t deny you when you beg for more. His hands sliding up your back to unclip your bra and he drags it down your arms, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. “Mierda.” He growls and leans down to take your nipple into his mouth, biting down on the sensitive flesh.

You manage to reach his cock, squeezing it through his pants and moaning when you feel him jump and twitch in your hand. Hissing when he bites down on your breast again, your cunt throbs and you feel yourself getting slick with arousal. “Fuck baby, that feels so good.” You moan quietly.

He groans when you squeeze his cock again and his hands slide down to find the zipper of your skirt. Dragging it down, your skirt drops to the floor and Pero pulls back so he can see you in your panties. “Fuck, hermosa.” He groans and reaches for you, grabbing your waist to pick you up and deposit you on the bed. You bounce and he slides his hands up your legs, “tell me to stop. One last chance, baby.” He grunts, his fingers playing with the lace of your panties and he gives you one more chance to say no before he destroys you.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You growl, shaking your head. “I’ve made myself cum too many times thinking about what you would do to me.” You confess breathlessly. Spreading your legs wider to let him see the damp patch on the crotch from where you are soaked.

Pero growls and hooks his fingers in your lace panties, dragging them down your legs, and he pushes your thighs wide open so he can see your pussy for the first time. The one he’s imagined more than he cares to admit with his fingers wrapped around his cock. “Fuck.” He growls and surges forward, his tongue sliding through your folds.

Never in a million years would you imagine that Pero Tovar would perform oral. Your cry of surprise is loud, hand flying to the back of his head and your body shakes at the talented flick of his tongue. You had imagined him greedy and selfish, taking but never giving unless you came on his cock. He groans into your cunt and you moan his name again, lifting your legs onto his shoulders to let him have whatever access to your body he wants.

Pero groans as you tug on his hair and he shifts to lay flat on the bed, his cock pressing against the mattress to give him some relief. His hands slide down to grab your ass and he squeezes the flesh while his tongue flicks over your clit. You’re tangy and sweet and he is already obsessed with your taste.

“Pero- fuck-“ you whimper and roll your hips down. Loving how he devours you as if he is starving and you are a feast. His dark eyes watch you and the lust in them makes your stomach clench. He’s going to wreck you. You just know he will destroy your pussy and leave you exhausted. “Make me cum and then I want you to fuck me.”

Pero groans into your flesh at your dirty words. So different from the woman running for Congress that was on stage making a speech. Right now, you’re whiny and desperate and he fucking loves it. His eyes watch your chest heave and he slides his hand from your ass, pushing two thick digits into your cunt.

Your walls clench down around his fingers, moaning loudly as he starts to pump them into you. “Yes fuck,” you whine. “Your hands are so hard, fingers so thick. Fuck, your cock is thicker, I just know it.”

Pero doesn’t respond, he’s too busy taking your clit into his mouth to suck on it hard. His fingers are pumping faster and he groans when you tug on his hair again. He wants you to cum for him. Desperate to hear you cry out his name so he sucks harder, loving the squeal you release as he curls his fingers, working you closer to your orgasm.

He’s determined to suck your soul out through your clit. Never having a man be so devoted to eating you out, it’s almost overwhelming. He works you up fast and then it only takes another few pumps of his fingers combined with the flick of his tongue to send you flying.

When you clamp down on his fingers, his cock throbs and he withdraws his digits so he can slide his tongue into your fluttering cunt so he can taste the spoils of his victory by making you fall apart.

You gasp his name, your fingers twisted in his hair harshly, but you think he likes it from the way he groans. Making you whimper until he finally has his fill of your cunt and pulls away. “Fuck me, please fuck me.” You beg, desperate to feel his cock ramming into you.

Pero feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t fuck you. So many nights wondering how you’d be beneath him. Would you spit venom and scratch his back in anger or would you relax and take what he gives you? Your begging makes him think it’s the latter. He groans and shifts off the bed, slick fingers fumbling with his pants as he kicks off his shoes and pushes his pants down along with his briefs.

His cock is gorgeous as it springs from the confines of his briefs. Making you moan and your cunt clench around nothing. Heavily bobbing and leaking pre-cum, you would get down on your knees and suck his cock if you weren’t so eager for him to be inside you.

He kicks his pants away and reaches down to squeeze his cock, groaning at the slight relief. He kneels on the bed and looks down at you, “you ready, hermosa?” He asks, wanting to make sure one last time before he fucks you.

Reaching up, you grab his shoulder and pull him down to you. Needing to have him inside you more than you can express. “Yes.” You lunge up to smash your lips against his, your hand sliding between you to wrap around his cock and guide him to your cunt.

He doesn't deny you what you want and he groans at how wet you are when his cock slides through your folds until he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You moan loud, throwing your head back as you sink into your pillow, and Pero follows, resting his weight on his elbows as he pushes until he is fully inside you.

You’re full, you’re overly full and you love the slight pinch of pain that accompanies his cock pushing inside you. It’s been a long time since someone has fucked you and you know he will fuck you right. Your mouth drops open as you pant, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist. “Fuck, Pero.”

You moaning his name snaps his control and he grabs your thigh, lifting it higher so he can push deeper. “Fuck, you are so tight.” He hisses as he starts to rock into you, the pace steady but quick as the desire he’s been harboring so long is set free.

All you can do is take the snap of his hips as he drives his cock deep. Moaning and arching your back up, you let him control the entire thing. Your hands squeeze his biceps as he rocks into you, nails digging into his skin. “So good!” You squeal when he hits deep and strikes against your g-spot. “There!”

He grunts, focusing on that spot, and he reaches for your hand, lifting it over your head as he grinds into that same spot with a groan of your name when your walls flutter around him.

Every time he punches deep into your guts, you squeak out a sound. So close to cumming again and the angle allows the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub against your clit. “Pero- fuck, I’m going to cum baby, fuck!”

You are so pliant beneath him and he hisses at the way your pussy is clenching around his cock with each push of his hips against yours. “Fuck. Want you to cum for me.” He demands, pushing deep again and again until you break apart beneath him. He presses his lips against yours as you cum, swallowing your cries of pleasure and taking them for himself as you clamp down on his cock.

The rush of heat and liquid that gushes through your pussy is so good. Making your eyes roll back as he continues to pound into you. Working you through the intense orgasm until your body goes limp.

You soak his cock and he groans, kissing along your jaw as you shake beneath him. "Incredible. Fuck, princesa." He murmurs, letting you work through it until he grunts, rolling over so you are straddling him. "Ride me. Show me what you wanted." He demands, squeezing your ass before he smacks it.

You moan, clenching down around him again and ignoring the smirk that he shoots you. Pressing your hands against his chest and leaning down to kiss him as you roll your hips. Slowly circling your hips to tease him a little as you enjoy how much deeper he feels from this angle.

You look like a fucking angel as you start to move on top of him. "That's it, hermosa. Take what you want. Tell me what you've been imagining with your hand between those pretty thighs." He demands, squeezing your ass again.

You should have known that he wouldn’t forget that. You push yourself upright and start to bounce on his cock, moaning when your ass is pressed against his thighs. “I- imagined you- wrecking me.” You pant breathlessly. “Making me scream and- oh fuck, cum all over you.”

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over me again? Want you to take what you want, pretty girl. So fucking beautiful and smart and brave." He murmurs, knowing he doesn't normally speak this much but you have him rambling. He helps you rock on top of his cock, his hand squeezing your ass and his hand slides up to cup your breast.

You love his hands, and you tell him so, tilting your head back and pushing your breast into his hand even more. There’s an absolute sense of freedom inside you as you ride your guard’s cock. Feeling him twitch every time you squeeze him in your walls. “You have the best cock I’ve ever ridden.” You moan. “Filling me up perfectly.”

He pinches your nipple and kisses along your neck, loving the way you rock your hips down onto his cock. "Mierda." He hisses against your neck, "want you to cum for me again, hermosa." He demands, his hand sliding down between you so he can rub your clit.

You whine, shuddering as he expertly presses his thumb to your clit and rubs tight circles as you ride him. “Pero.” You press your lips to his, rolling your hips down faster as the tension builds.

He loves the way you moan his name, getting addicted to it, and he grabs your hip with his other hand, helping you rock on top of him. He hisses when your walls start to flutter around him again, “cum for me again.”

It only takes a few more rolls of your hips. Pressing your lips against his throat as you cry out, clamping down around him and soaking him again.

Pero groans as you squeeze his cock again. Fuck, you are perfect. He hisses and helps you ride your high by grabbing your ass to rock you on top of him. When you collapse against his chest, he grunts and starts to fuck up into you, his cock twitching and the sound of your slick pussy filling the air.

“Pero…Pero.” You kiss along his neck and let him fuck up into you while you are sprawled on his chest. “Fill me up. It’s safe.” You promise, having just had your birth control renewed right before the campaign had started. “Want to feel it. Want to feel it so badly.”

He trusts you, knowing you wouldn't fuck around with your birth control when you're running for congress. He grunts your name, his cock pulses as he pushes deep into you over and over again. "Mierda. I - hermosa. Fuck." He thrusts a half dozen times until he's pushing deep, his cock twitching inside you as he paints your walls with his cum.

The little hum that settles in the back of your throat is one of pure bliss. Smiling softly as he rocks himself through his orgasm until every drop is pumped into your willing body and you feel incredible. Relaxed even after everything that happened as the post coitus bliss leaves you sleep. “Perfect.”

Pero sighs and rests his head on your pillow, his hands caressing your back as you relax above him. His cock is softening inside you but he doesn’t move you, wanting to enjoy this before reality slaps him in the face.

Your fingers curl and draw little shapes on his shoulder, touching what is obviously an old injury as you try to catch your breath. "That was perfect." You murmur with a smile.

Pero turns his head so he can softly kiss you, wanting to enjoy the moment, and you whimper as you pull off him, flopping onto the bed next to him and he turns his head to look at you. “I like this look on you.” He murmurs and you chuckle, “what look? Just fucked?” You tease and he clicks his tongue, “no. Relaxed.”

You snort and laugh again. “It doesn’t happen often.” You admit. “Sometimes when I get a little tipsy, or I’m tired. But I like this way of relaxation best.”

Pero nods, shifting out of the bed and he reaches for his briefs, pulling them on before he heads into your bathroom to get a rag to clean you up. When he walks away, he realizes that he’s overstepped. Something he’s never done before and that makes him pause and look in the mirror. His scar, his dark eyes that hold a thousand secrets. If he was standing beside you on stage, you’d be a laughing stock. He hisses and closes his eyes, making his way back into the bedroom to hand you the wet rag. “I need to call, uh, the team.” He says as he bends down to gather his clothes. He doesn’t look back as he rushes out of your bedroom, cursing himself for giving in to his desires.

The shift in the mood is instantaneous and you sit up, watching as he practically runs out of the bedroom. You bite your lip, swallowing harshly as you clean up. It’s obvious that this was just a moment, a release of pressure after a tumultuous event. He didn’t take advantage of you, but it almost feels like you took advantage of him. You dress in leggings and a t-shirt and go back out into the living room, knowing you have to call your team. You’ve probably missed a hundred calls.

Pero has a shower and sits on his bed, his hands clasped as he imagines what his mother thinks of him above. He sighs and rubs his cheek after a moment, “mierda, mama. What do I do? She doesn’t want me.” He murmurs, shaking his head and he stands up, deciding to message the team for tomorrow’s event.

You feel a little overwhelmed by the calls with your team, checking in with them and making sure everyone is alright. Reassuring them that you are okay and you will be at the interview scheduled for tomorrow. Refusing to let the fear of one crazed person coming for you change what you do. Sighing softly, you set your phone down and look at the closed door to the guest room, feeling unsure of what will happen now that you’ve slept with Pero.

****

 It’s been a rough morning but Pero has remained professional. He got dressed and sat with a coffee at the kitchen counter while you got ready for your interview with the local news channel. You need to go to the studio early to go over your notes and Pero’s team is already there checking the perimeter and every person in the studio. Essential personnel only.

The air is frosty around you when you come into the kitchen to get some coffee. No greeting or acknowledgement of any kind from the guard who had spent yesterday afternoon making you cum. You cover the hurt by concentrating on pouring your coffee. “I’m leaving in ten minutes.” You announce, turning around and walking back into your bedroom to get your purse.

Pero sighs, hating the tension between you but his job is to keep you safe. Not make you happy. The car ride to the studio is quiet except for the radio playing and Pero grips the steering wheel tighter than usual to resist saying anything to you. He was awake most of the night replaying the way you felt around his cock, beneath him, the sounds you made.

You don’t like the fact that he refuses to speak to you. Making you feel like you’ve done something wrong. It pisses you off. As soon as the car stops at the studio, you are climbing out, eager to get away from the soul sucking silence between the two of you.

Pero gets out of the car and locks it, following you and he steps beside you, his eyes watching the surroundings until you’re inside the studio and he sees his team standing around. Thomas is there to greet you with notes and he frowns when he sees your expression.

“What’s wrong?” He knows you well enough to know that something is wrong but you shake your head. “Nothing.” You promise, plastering on a smile. “Just a restless night. Not to be unexpected.” You remind him and ignore Pero as you hug every one of your staff.

Pero scratches his jaw and shuffles away to stand in the corner, his gun in his holster as he stands close but not too close. He watches the staff on the set and he doesn’t like the look of the cameraman who is eying you from across the room.

You are given a list of the questions while you are whisked over to hair and makeup, adding to what you had already carefully done this morning. While you are staring in the mirror, you find Pero watching you and your eyes meet in the reflection for a brief moment until he looks away guiltily and you know that he regrets last night. Making you swallow harshly and try to remind yourself that you should have never let him touch you.

He knows you regret last night but he doesn’t. He had his moment to touch you and he is going to have to live with the fact that it was one time only. He watches as you are escorted on the set and his eyes widen when he sees an audience shuffling in. Pero strides over to the stage manager and growls, “there wasn’t supposed to be an audience.” He looks over at Thomas, “this is a security risk.” Thomas shrugs one shoulder, “we can’t kick people out. That story would leak. Your men are here. It will be okay.” He says but Pero isn’t convinced.

You try not to shift nervously in your chair as the seats fill. Making sure that you keep your expression neutral so people don’t know you are nervous. Yesterday had shaken you up and you don’t want it to become severe or take over your life. The host is explaining what will happen as a microphone is wired into your clothing discreetly by the sound crew.

Pero is on edge and speaks to his team through his headset to tell everyone to take anyone down who dares even look at you the wrong way. The team confirms it and Pero crosses his arms as he watches you get settled in before the director calls for quiet on set.

The lights are brighter than you imagined and you can’t really see the audience because of the lighting. Nearly making you panic, but you hold onto the edge of the chair as the countdown begins and the host starts their intro.

The host introduces you and you are answering the questions. He can tell you’re nervous but you are eloquent and he smiles slightly at how well you’re getting your message across. He doesn’t notice the man until he’s on stage and Pero’s eyes widen as the man grabs you. He doesn’t think. He acts. Running across the stage, he grabs the man and throws him down on the floor. Straddling him, Pero throws his arm back and brings his fist back into his face. He doesn’t stop after one punch. He sees red and he continues punching the guy live on TV.

The set is crazy with Thomas running out to you and the audience gasping. “Pero!” You scream, rushing forward to where your guard is beating the man on the floor. Terrified that someone else was apparently attacking you. Security for the studio and the rest of Pero’s team rush onto the set and you are pushed back in the chaos.

Pero is dragged off of the asshole and his chest heaves, a growl escaping his lips as he fights the urge to break free. William is in his ear, “calm down. Calm the fuck down.” He growls at his friend, “she’s okay. She’s safe.” The Irishman tells him and Pero inhales deeply, his knuckles bruised and bleeding.

Another member of Pero’s team is beside you, his hand on his gun as security picks the unconscious man up and drags him away from the cameras. The police have been called and you know that you will have to do a lot of damage control to try to explain the last two days to the people that are voting for you. “What is going on?” You demand.

Pero shrugs William off when he knows he’s fine. He snorts and wipes his nose as he steps towards you but the police immediately grab him to pull him aside. “I was protecting her. I was hired to protect her.” Pero tells the officer who snorts, “protect her or kill the asshole who tried to hurt her?” The officer asks and Pero shakes his head, “she was attacked yesterday. I didn’t want to take any chances. I need to keep her safe.” Pero growls and William pats his back, “my colleague was doing his job. His employer is the former vice president.” William explains and the officer's eyes widen. “We, uh - we will need to contact you for questioning but we will take him away and question him.” They assure you and Pero nods, “I need to take her and get her somewhere safe.” He says and the officers nod.

You are talking with Thomas and the assistant director of the show when Pero walks up to you. “We need to leave.” He demands, interrupting the conversation, and making you frown at how rude he is being. “No, I need to finish the interview.” You shake your head, unwilling to let another day, another event be ruined by these attacks. It’s derailing your progress and you can’t afford that.

“I don’t care. We don’t know who else is sitting in the audience or what they could’ve planted. It’s too risky. She needs to go. Now.” He demands, turning his eyes to you. “You need to go. It’s not safe.”

“I’m not going to allow some prick to make me cower in fear.” You tell him bluntly. “It’s your job to protect me, so protect me, but I’m going to finish this interview.”

Your stubbornness makes his jaw clench but he can’t argue. He radios his team to surround you and keep an eye on the audience who is shaken but still in their seats. The host gestures for you to take your seat and Pero’s fists ache as he watches you like a hawk.

“That was quite the shakeup.” The host comments as you start the interview back up and you have to agree. “Yes it was. It must mean that I am pressing some very uncomfortable buttons for people. Which is a good thing. Sometimes change is uncomfortable and dangerous, but if we let fear silence us, they win.” You try to look poised and concerned, but unruffled, wanting to send the message that you are not backing down.

Pero’s eyes glance around the studio, vigilant and alert, and he flexes his knuckles, wincing at the pain. You respond to your questions with grace and dignity despite what happened moments ago. He is anxious to get you out of here but he stands with his team scattered around the room.

“That’s very brave of you.” You don’t consider it brave, but you don’t argue the fact. Pero Tovar and his team are brave. Risking their lives for you. You continue on, getting back to the questions that had been prepared earlier and you find yourself relaxing as the interview concludes, the audience standing and clapping when the host ends their closing remarks.

Pero watches as the interview ends and the staff come over to take the mic pack from you. “We need to go. Now.” Pero demands as soon as you are free from the wires and the set staff.

“After I talk to my staff.” You don’t spare him a glance and move over towards Thomas. You want to find out what is happening with the man the police and security hauled away, if he had said anything about why he attacked you.

Pero clenches his jaw, pissed at you for not listening to him but he follows you when you approach Thomas who is speaking with the police officer. “It appears he was protesting the former vice president’s involvement in the war in Syria. Even if his daughter was not in office, he attacked her to get to him. He’s a war vet. Lost his friends to an IED and he survived. He’s been arrested.” The police officer tells you.

“Shit.” You frown, hating that your father’s actions have had such a profound impact on the man’s life. “I want him released.” You tell the officer. “I’m not pressing charges.” Thomas gasps and you look over at him. “I want you to set up a quiet meeting with him. Tell him that I want to talk to him. Let him speak civilly.” You clarify.

Pero shakes his head, "that is not something I would advise. He could be violent." You snort, "the man is on his way to hospital after you beat him up. I doubt he's in a state to lift a finger." Pero doesn't argue that and he sighs, "not today. We need to put your safety first so you need to be taken home."

You ignore his comment and look back over at Thomas. “Tomorrow, first thing.” You instruct him before you check in with the rest of your team. Aware that he is anxious to leave but you are not going to let him dictate what you do. Once you are done, you look over at Thomas. “I’ll be at home for the rest of the day. Let me know when we can sit down with him.”

Thomas nods, unsure but he won’t argue with you. You are strong willed like your father. “I’ll let you know.” He promises and Pero hovers his hand on your lower back as he guides you to the exit…finally. William is waiting with your driver and your car and opens the passenger door to get you in. “Take her home.” William says and Pero nods, closing your door once you’re inside and he gets in beside you on the other side. Flexing his fingers when he’s in the seat, the driver starts the journey back to your apartment.

You can’t believe that he actually had the driver come out. He had been driving you to all the events, but now he wants to be beside you? You roll your eyes and turn your head to stare out the window. Aware that Pero just wants to get you home and lock you behind a closed door.

Pero feels like a live wire, his hands almost shaking as he watches you stare out the window. He stares for a few moments until he looks down at his hands, frowning at the bruises on his broken skin, and he doesn’t regret what he did to protect you.

You hate that he won’t speak to you. Hadn’t spoken to you since leaving your bed unless it was about your safety. “I’m ordering in.” You decide out loud. “Just so you don’t beat the delivery person.”

Pero turns his gaze to you, “I will answer the door. They have to get through the security at the door but I’ll answer your front door.” He says without leaving any room for negotiation. His job is to keep you safe and that’s what he will do.

You sniff, but you don’t say anything else. So bewildered by the mercurial shifts in attitude this man has. It makes you regret sleeping with him. You had hoped that it would….who knows? Be the start of something wonderful, but it’s just caused even more problems.

Pero escorts you up into your apartment, doing his sweep before he lets you inside and as soon as the door is locked behind him, he turns to face you. “I need ice for my knuckles.” He declares, flexing the sore joints.

Even though you are hurt because he iced you out after fucking you, you aren’t going to let the man suffer. “I have a gel pack.” You kick off your heels and walk into the kitchen, knowing where it’s at in the freezer. You like to use it when your face is puffy and it will feel better against his sore knuckles than jagged ice cubes. You wrap the pack in a thin dishrag and turn around to find him right behind you. “You shouldn’t have hit him so many times.” You tut, taking his hand and pulling it towards you so you can inspect it. “Did he- we should clean it.”

Pero hisses when you inspect his hand, and you guide him over to the sink. “He is lucky I didn’t kill him. Rushing towards you…I would’ve used my gun if there weren't other people so close to you.” He confesses, “when he rushed towards you…fuck.” He growls, shaking his head.

You remind yourself that if you die, his reputation would be ruined in the security sector. He doesn’t sound possessive because he cares about you. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “For protecting me.”

Pero reaches up with his free hand to cup your cheek, “I’d do anything to protect you.” He promises, his dark eyes burning into yours, “anything for you, hermosa.” He vows despite knowing he’s not good enough for you. His past will come back to haunt him.

“Anything but talk to me.” You huff, pulling away from his touch before you do something stupid like try to kiss him again. You wash his hand, ignoring the way your body has heated up and reacts to his proximity. You wrap it in the icy gel pack and you step back. “You should have a drink.” You advise.

Pero shakes his head, “no drink. Not until you’re elected.” He declares and he sits down at the kitchen table with the gel back on his knuckles. “I shouldn’t have left your bed.” He admits as you turn your back to him, “I should’ve stayed.”

You had been about to walk away and you freeze. You turn around to find him looking at you instead of his hand. “Why did you leave?” You ask quietly. “Got what you wanted? It wasn’t good enough?” Those have been your theories as you had thought about it over and over again.

Pero shakes his head, “wasn’t good enough? Is that what you - mierda. Hermosa. I - I am not good enough for you. I have a dark past and my job - I shouldn’t even be in the same room as you. I want to be in your bed again. Hear you moan my name again, but I can’t. You deserve better than some thug from Seville.”

“Some thug from Seville?” You don’t know what he’s talking about, but you shake your head. “I judge a man based on his character now, not what has made him.” You snort, angry that he is basically calling you a judgmental cow. “Everyone has a past, good or bad. It’s what shapes them. Despite your past, you are a good man. But it’s unfair for you to make a decision for me. It should be my choice if I want you in my bed.”

Pero inhales deeply, looking at you, “do you want that? Me in your bed?” He asks, his eyebrows raised as he anxiously awaits your answer.

You should tell him no, you should walk away with your pride intact. But that wouldn’t be what you wanted and you try not to lie. “Yes.” You admit, biting your lip. “Yesterday was….the fucking best sex I’ve had.” You could be yourself and he didn’t hold back, he didn’t look at you like a campaigning hopeful Senator or the former vice president’s daughter. You were a woman he wanted.

Your words make his chest tighten and he tosses the gel pack onto the table as he shoots out of his chair. His hands cup your cheeks as he presses his lips against yours.

You should have known he would act instead of talk. You don’t care though. Not when he’s kissing you again. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you tangle your fingers into his hair desperately as you slide your tongue into his mouth.

His hands slide down to squeeze your waist, grunting as he shifts to lift you up onto the kitchen counter. He steps between your legs and his tongue slides against yours. He knows it’s wrong but he can’t help it. You offered him a drink but he doesn’t need it when he’s drunk on you.

You don’t know why he is so reserved or why he has the wicked scar over his eye, but you know that you feel alive in his arms. You feel safe and secure, blissful and comforted. Reaching up, you push the jacket off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

He lets his jacket fall to the floor and you grab his tie, pulling him close when he steps back to kick his shoes away. You press your lips against his and you tug on his tie to pull it from his collar. He grabs it when you undo it, grabbing your hands. "Such a disobeying brat." He hisses at the way you had gone back to the interview when he insisted on taking you home.

You should argue with him, but you can’t, not when you were being a brat. Partly to piss him off but mostly to show that you weren’t afraid. “What are you going to do about it?” You taunt.

Pero growls, tying your hands together and he hooks them onto the cabinet handle so you can’t move. “You’re going to learn to obey orders.” He hisses and his hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress up to expose your panties.

“Kinky.” You taunt, moaning when he presses his thumb against your clit through the lace. You might have worn your sexiest lingerie today as a confidence booster. “What if-“ you pant. “I don’t want to obey?”

“Then I’ll make you behave.” He warns, leaning in to bite your jaw, “you’re going to be a good girl for me otherwise you’ll regret it.” He promises and you tilt your head back. “You need to listen to me. It’s your fucking life on the line. This isn’t a game.” He growls against your skin as he slides his fingers under your panties to rub your clit.

You whimper quietly, your hips jerking up. “I was safe.” You pant. “I’m safe with you.” It’s true. You feel completely safe when Pero is beside you, you know he would never let anything happen to you and he has the bruised knuckles to prove it.

He huffs, “you need to make better decisions. Not be so reckless. You could’ve gotten hurt again. We don’t know who else was in that audience.” He grunts and pulls his hand away from your clit. You whine but he shoves your dress up higher and hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down your legs. “These are sexy. Who did you wear these for? The interviewer? Thomas?” He teases, tossing them over his shoulder before he pushes your thighs open.

“Wanted to- to feel sexy today.” You don’t harp on the fact that it was because of him leaving yesterday, but you know he understands that’s why. His hands slide up your thighs and you can’t touch him. It’s so fucking sexy to see his shoulder holster and gun still on his body while he spreads you open. “Fuck Pero.” You whine. “How are you so sexy?”

He chuckles as he slides his hand higher until he’s pressing two thick digits into your cunt. “I’m not good for you. That’s why it’s sexy. Forbidden. You shouldn’t let me touch you.” He says as he leans in to kiss along your neck.

You huff in protest, knowing that it’s more than that. You aren’t forbidden to be in a relationship with anyone you choose as long as he’s not someone else’s husband. “Why?” You murmur. “You married?”

Pero freezes and pulls back to look at you. “I’m many things, princesa, but I am not a cheater. No, I’m not married. But you are political royalty and I’m nobody.” He declares and presses his thumb against your clit as he starts to move his fingers again.

“I was teasing.” You promise, wishing you could touch him. “You aren’t nobody.” You moan when he pushes his fingers deep. “You’re the man whose name I’m going to scream.”

His cock presses against the zipper of his slacks and he kisses up to your ear, “you’re going to scream it so fucking loud, the team will think something has happened.” He promises, pumping his fingers a little faster.

You whimper, eyes sliding closed as you pull against the tie. “Fuck. Please.” You beg, your walls squeezing his fingers as he works them into you. Stretching you out for his cock. “I want them to think I’m being murdered in here.”

Pero chuckles against your ear, “don’t worry, baby. You’ll scream.” He promises and shifts to kneel, pulling his fingers out of you. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge of the counter, pushing your thighs further apart until he surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds.

“Pero!” You cry out chest heaving because of his tongue. “Fuck- fuck, I want to suck your cock sometime.” You whine, trying to grind your hips down, but you are completely immobile since he moved you to the edge of the counter.

Your back arches as he has you almost hanging off the counter and he sucks your clit into his mouth. He fucking loves the way you taste. Tangy yet sweet. His fingers dig into your thighs and he is desperate to make you cum again for him, to hear you cry out his name.

If you had believed Pero to be feral yesterday, he is even more so today. His mouth ravenous as he devours you, obviously remembering what you liked as his tongue insistently flicks over your clit in a dizzying pattern as his fingers hold you apart, anchoring you down to his will. “Pero- god- it- your tongue.” You babble incoherently, unable to think and just rambling as he pulls you apart lick by lick.

He’s greedy for you, unsure if he will have you again so he’s eager to lap at you until he’s satisfied that you’re satisfied. He loves hearing you ramble and he wants to hear more. His tongue pushes into you while his nose presses against your clit, making you whine and your head hits the cabinet behind you.

“So good, fuck - who would - would guess you like to - to eat pussy?” You moan his name again, feeling completely wanton. You aren’t even undressed, just tied to your cabinet with your skirt pushed up and your guard devouring your cunt like he’s getting paid for it. “Jesus.”

Pero groans at your moans, the way the tension in your body melts away has him lapping at your clit and sucking on it like those strawberry candies his abuela would give him as a kid. He’s desperate to hear you cum for him.

His tongue applies the perfect pressure as your thighs tense under his hands. “Pero- baby, I’m close.” You gasp out. “I’m gonna cum- I’m gunna-“ you squeal his name again when the pleasure busts inside you, breaking apart and rushing through your cunt like dam.

He grunts into your flesh, hands squeezing your thighs hard enough to leave a mark as he laps at your clit, sliding his tongue down to enjoy every drop of your orgasm - of the pleasure he gave you- from your body. He laps until you whine and then he pulls back, standing up with a slick chin. “Hermosa.” He pants as he surges forward to press his lips to yours.

You moan into the kiss, pulling at the cabinet again because you want to touch him. “Fuck me.” You beg against his lips. “Fuck me hard. I need it. I need you.” You aren’t too prideful to beg, wanting to feel him again. “Please.”

Pero chuckles, “you need to learn your lesson.” He unhooks you from the cabinet and grabs your thighs, lifting you from the counter to carry you into the living room. He sets you down and growls, “kneel” which you eagerly do. “You’re going to suck my cock like a good girl. You’re going to fucking obey me because if you don’t, I’m gonna punish you.” He grunts as he pulls his hard cock from his pants. “Suck.” He orders, holding his cock for you.

Your hands are still tied together but this is so sexy it has your cunt clenching around nothing. You aren’t in control, he is. Leaning forward, your tongue presses to the tip and he growls. “I said suck, not lick.” Your mouth opens obediently and he pushes inside with a thrust that would have you gagging if you had that reflex.

Pero’s eyes roll back as you take him deep on the first time and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. “Fuck. Such a good girl.” He coos, reaching down to caress your cheek as you start to bob your head for him.

Your eyes leak tears but you don’t let up. Wanting this to be as good for him as his tongue was buried in your pussy. You’re leaking onto the floor, dripping with arousal as he holds the back of your head with one hand, applying more pressure when he wants you to take him deeper.

You take him deeper and he rocks his hips, holding the back of your head so he can control the movements. You choke and he chuckles, “if only your voters could see you now. Dirty little whore sucking my cock.” He thrusts again and you sputter. He pulls out and hunches over to look at you, “you gonna do as I say?” He asks, his hand still on your head.

“Maybe.” You smirk slightly up at him, leaning forward as you try to lick him again. The derogatory language is a kink of yours that never gets indulged in, because you don’t tell anyone about it. Not trusting past lovers enough. “Maybe not.” You pout when he pulls his hips back to deny you a taste of his cock.

Pero chuckles at your pout and he reaches down to grab your tied wrists, pulling you to your feet and he guides you to your bedroom. “You’re gonna do as I say if you want to cum on my cock.” He warns and he turns you so he can unzip your dress. “Do not move your hands.” He demands as he unties your wrists so he can push your dress down your body. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, leaning in to bite down on your shoulder as he unclips your bra, wanting you to be naked in front of him.

You have to curl your hands into fists, wanting to touch him but wanting to cum on his cock more. “Pero.” You moan when he cups your breasts, tilting your head back and you love how he touches you. “Kiss me.”

He groans, loving the way you arch into his touch and he gives in to your demand, leaning in to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth and he swallows your moans of pleasure. “Kneel on the bed.” He demands when he pulls back, slapping your breast.

You gasp in pleasure, kneeling on the bed like he ordered you to and shiver as you wait for his instructions. You willingly give up control right now, wanting to see what he has in store for you.

Pero watches your cunt flutter as he strips off, pushing his pants down and he throws his socks across the room. He grabs his tie again and kneels on the bed behind you, “I’m going to wreck you, princesa. Make sure you don’t disobey me again.” He growls and grabs your wrists to tie them together again. You nearly fall forward but he keeps you upright by gripping your wrists in one of his hands, his other hand pumping his cock as he lines himself up.

Pero slams his hips up, making you scream as he fills you. It’s loud, and your entire body lights up in pleasure. He’s rough and dominant, making the air seep from your lungs.

He groans at how wet and tight you are around him. His cock twitching inside you as you take every inch of his cock. “Fuck, hermosa. You’re so good.” He grunts and tightens his grip on your wrists.

You moan, squeezing him tight as he rocks up into you. “Pero.” You groan and close your eyes as he holds you up by your wrists, impaled on his cock. “I’m- you’re good.” You pant. “You’re so fucking good.”

He loves the way you pant and moan, your cunt fluttering around his cock as he pushes into you over and over again. “That’s it baby. Mierda. Tú coño es mi cielo.” He hisses and grips your wrists tighter so he can thrust harder into you.

You whimper, loving the rough treatment of you. He gives you exactly what you need. “Tu polla es mia.” You moan back to him, pushing your hips down so he can grind deeper into you.

His cock twitches inside you at you speaking his mother tongue and he loves the way you grind back onto him. “You’re so fucking hungry to cum on my cock, aren’t you?” He coos mockingly, loving the way you hiss when he uses his free hand to smack your ass.

Crying out again, you clench around him at the sting of his slap. “Yes! Fuck, yes Pero.” You moan. “It’s so good. No one has ever fucked me like you do.”

He knows you’re lost in the moment but he hopes you’re telling the truth. He wants to possess you, overwhelm you, make you listen to him instead of putting your life at risk. He groans your name and clenches his jaw as he rams into you again and again.

It’s perfect. His body fits yours so well and he manages to make you want more and turn into jelly at the same time. Your thighs shake because you are so close, the angle is perfect. “So close.”

He keeps that same angle, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, and he hisses, thrusting a few more times as your thighs shake until you stiffen beneath him as your orgasm overcomes your body. “That’s it, hermosa.” He coos, rubbing your ass as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him.

You moan his name again and again, loving how you are fucked through it. He takes care of you without you even having to beg him. “I want- fuck, I want to feel you.” You whimper, “I need it.”

He wants to make you cum again but he doesn’t think he can hold back as he thrusts into you, working you through your orgasm until it’s too much. He grunts your name, his nails digging into your wrist as he thrusts deep and starts to paint your walls with his cum.

You whine when you feel the heat of his cum flooding your cunt. Closing your eyes as he fills you up. “So good.” You murmur softly. “Fuck, you are good at making me feel completely boneless.”

He rocks himself through it and sighs, leaning down to kiss along your neck while he works on untying your wrists. “You going to listen to me now, hermosa?” He asks, helping you lay down on your side.

“When I think you’re right.” You admit, smirking when he shoots you a heavy frown. He’s still buried inside you and you tighten your muscles around him. “You have to admit that it sent a stronger message for me to complete the interview today.”

Pero sighs, “a stronger message isn’t worth risking your life. You can’t run if you’re dead.” He says as he pulls out of you and helps you lay down on the bed. “I’ll clean you up.” He says as he shuffles off the bed, not wanting to just leave you like he did last night.

You know that he’s not happy that you aren’t listening to him and hiding behind your walls, frightened, but you don’t give in to terror tactics. When he comes back with the rag, you wonder if he will leave again. “I’ll compromise with you.” You offer. “I can’t stay behind armored walls all the time, but if there’s a time where you seriously think I’m in danger, I’ll do what you say.”

Pero stares at you for a second, pondering your bargain, and finally he nods. “Deal.” He says and gently cleans you up. He doesn’t get dressed or reach for his clothes after he tosses the rag in your bathroom. He shifts to lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms, “you okay? Your wrists hurt?”

You curl against his chest. “No.” You promise, reaching up to caress his chest. “You didn’t hurt me at all. I loved it.” You smile, feeling better about your evening now that he has laid back down with you.

Pero strokes your back, “bueno.” He murmurs and turns his head to kiss your forehead. He knows he shouldn’t be in your bed. He shouldn’t be touching you but he can’t keep away. Once you’re elected, his job will be done and he will move on to the next while you succeed in D.C, marry some asshole politician while he remembers this time with you, hopefully enough to carry him the rest of his lonely life.

You cuddle into his chest and sigh softly, relaxed and safe. “This feels good.” You admit quietly. “Take a nap with me?” Despite having pushed to continue the interview, your body is exhausted and you need some rest since you’ve been through so much. Now that you are finally relaxed, you want to sleep.

Pero doesn’t deny you. He pulls you close, letting you throw your leg over his hip, and he snuggles into your neck, breathing you in. “Come on, get some sleep, hermosa.” He murmurs, closing his eyes. It’s weird to be so relaxed but he doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep curled around you.

The nap is probably the most relaxing sleep you’ve had since the bid for congress started. You love the warmth of his body and at some point, you end up on your back with Pero’s weight pressing you down into the mattress.

Pero wakes up before you do and he groans as he shifts off your body. You whine and try to keep him close but he needs to check in with the team and he wants to get you dinner. He grunts as he pulls on his briefs and makes his way into the living room to check his phone. A couple of missed calls from William and a few texts but nothing that can’t wait. He makes his way into the kitchen to open your fridge and he inspects what is available before he gets started on making you dinner.

When you wake up, you’re alone again. Bleary eyed and yawning, you hear a curse and a loud clanging from the kitchen. Donning your robe, you stumble into the living room, seeing Pero at the stove. “We aren’t ordering food?” You ask.

Pero sighs, setting down the spatula. “I was trying to make you breakfast for dinner. Show - make up for running out last time.” He confesses with a slight blush on his cheeks. He sighs and glances at the scrambled eggs and bacon, flour on his face from the pancakes.

It’s possibly the sweetest gesture you’ve ever received. “Thank you.” You murmur, walking over and pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. “That’s so sweet. I love breakfast for dinner.”

Pero flushes slightly, “go sit down. There’s coffee and orange juice. It won’t be long.” He promises, “this is all I can cook. Well, breakfast and paella.” He chuckles, “my mama taught me how to cook paella.”

You moan softly, mouth watering at the idea. “We will have to get the ingredients for paella.” You hum, sitting down at the bar and watching him greedily. The muscles in his back ripple and pull tight as he moves. “I love paella.”

He looks over his shoulder with a smirk, “we will make it one day.” He promises and flips the pancakes, leaving them another minute before he puts them on the plates. He turns off the stove and carries the plate over to you with the eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Syrup on the table alongside the butter, he takes a seat beside you to tuck into his own food.

“It looks good, thank you.” You appreciate the fact that he made you dinner, it’s a lot more than previous lovers have done. You put some syrup over your pancakes and cut into them eagerly. Groaning quietly, you roll your eyes in pleasure. “Oh this is good.”

Pero is pleased that you are enjoying it and he digs into his cooking, enjoying your groans of pleasure as you eat. He is still shirtless and he can feel your eyes on him. “Baby, I can feel you watching me.”

“Nothing wrong with watching a handsome man.” You tease, smirking slightly when he seems to be shy about that. “You have to know how sexy you are.” You huff. “Raw and appealing? Dangerous. You look like you could be on the cover of a pirate romance novel.”

Pero snorts, “a pirate romance novel?” He chuckles and you nod, “very smutty.” Pero smirks, “yeah? What does the main character do in this pirate romance novel?”

You grin. “Well he’s a scoundrel, kidnapping the innocent maiden and ravaging her.” You tease. “All while plundering for gold and treasure, but his favorite thing is to make her scream loud enough for his crew to hear. Branding her as his.”

Pero smirks, “yeah? He’s a scoundrel. He brands her as his.” He asks, pushing away from the table after he sets his knife and fork down. He pats his lap, “come here and tell me what he does to brand her as his.”

You hum, sliding off your chair and into his lap easily, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, he fucks her every night, leaving her catatonic with pleasure and unable to look at another man. She’s fair skinned, so his marks are on her neck, her breasts, her hips where he has sucked on the skin, squeezed it harshly.” You know he can’t mark you, but you don’t mind bruises you can feel. “He protects her against dangers. Keeps her safe even in dangerous waters.”

Pero hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck, his hands gripping your thigh and your waist. “He keeps her safe no matter what?” He murmurs against your cheek, kissing up to your ear and he bites on your earlobe.

“He does.” You tilt your head, moaning softly and you start to grind down on his cock. “He’s very good at it.”

He starts to harden beneath you, a groan escaping his lips as he kisses your skin. “Good. I know he’d keep her safe no matter what. How does he satisfy her?” He asks, his hand sliding up to squeeze your breast through your robe.

You whimper and roll your hips. “He takes control. Giving her what she needs without ever asking. Letting her be free to just enjoy herself.”

Pero loves the way you grind down onto him and he unties your robe, he cups your breast and tilts it up. He leans down to take your nipple into his mouth, biting down on it before he sucks on it.

Your fingers sink into his hair and you lean back, giving him more access to your body. “Fuck, Pero.” You moan quietly, loving how he is rough and gentle all at the same time. “So good. More.”

He groans, sliding his other hand down and he pushes your thighs apart. You moan when his fingers find your clit and he presses the bundle of nerves while he mouthes at your nipple.

It’s slow this time. He doesn’t rush to prepare you or do anything more than tease your breast. Making it seem like nothing else exists but the two of you as you are perched on his lap. “Pero.” You groan, completely under the spell of his touch.

He isn’t in any hurry to be inside you so he rubs your clit and groans your name softly as he kisses his way back up to your neck, “hermosa.” He murmurs into your skin, meaning the word with his entire being.

“You are beautiful too.” You promise, fingers carding through his hair. “You are strong and protective. It was sexy when you defended me today.” You admit quietly. “I know I’m safe with you.”

Pero is relieved to hear you feel that way and he smiles against your neck, “I want you to always feel safe with me.” He declares and rubs your clit a little faster, wanting to hear your sweet moans as you cum. “I will protect you as long as you want me, as long as you need me.” He vows and groans when you pull on his hair a little.

t’s on the tip of your tongue to say that he can stay as long as he wants, because you want him, but you don’t. Feeling like he wouldn’t believe that. Instead, you press your lips to his, kissing him deeply and moaning into his mouth as he touches you.

He slides his tongue into your mouth and he continues rubbing your clit, hard and pressing into your back, and he wants you to cum for him. He wants to feel you shake against him. He’s already addicted to it.

Pero’s touch turns demanding and you love it. Rocking into his touch as you kiss. Giving him what he wants as he works you towards the peak.

He wants you to cum for him. He rubs your clit a little faster and groans when you start to stiffen against him. You throw your head back against his shoulder and moan as you fall apart in his arms, his lips against your neck as he works you through it.

“Fuck, fuck.” You whine, never having someone who has been as thorough as him when it comes to making sure that your needs are met. He’s incredible and it makes the orgasm even more intense knowing you can break and he will be right there.

He’s hard beneath you but doesn’t push for more as he pulls his hand away from between your thighs and slides his hand up to cup your breast, breathing you in as he knows this will come to an end at some point.

“How do you want me?” You ask, trying to catch your breath as you reach down to slip your hand under the waistband of his boxers. Wrapping your hand around his hard cock and moaning when he twitches against your palm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, “Princesa. I want - I want you to ride me.” He demands, “want to see your face when you cum again. Want to see you fall apart for me before I fill you up.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against your jaw.

You hum, shifting your hips so you can line up on his cock as you pull him out of his boxers. Pero pushes your robe off your shoulders and you drop it to the ground as you lower yourself on him. Moaning his name as he fills you up.

Pero closes his eyes, feeling like he’s entered heaven when you sink down onto his cock. You are wet and hot and fit him like a glove. Like it’s meant to be. He doesn’t allow himself to focus on that and instead, his hands find your waist, caressing your skin as you start to rock on top of him. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, hermosa.” He murmurs, “so fucking perfect.” He leans in to kiss your neck, wanting to mark you but knowing he can’t.

You settle down. Squeezing him a few good times just to hear him grunt and feel him rock his hips up. Enjoying how he pushes away the loneliness that you had been ignoring for so long. “Relax, lover.” You murmur, closing your eyes. “Let me do all the work.”

Pero loves hearing you call him lover. He slides his hands up to cup your tits and he squeezes the flesh. “I want you to cum on my cock. Soak me. Take what you want from me.” Pero demands, loving how you squeeze him inside of your body.

You groan quietly, using his body as you start to slowly ride him. Keeping the pace slower as he touches you. “Your cock is perfect.” You promise, kissing along his jaw. “All I can do is cum on it.”

His hands alone along your back and he watches you as you start to move. Your brow furrows in concentration and he loves it. He knows he’s getting in too deep and it’s not a good thing but he can’t help himself. You are intoxicating.

You love how he holds his hips still and lets you ride him. He doesn’t take over, doesn’t try to set the pace. He just lets you take what you want from him. “Pero.” You kiss up his jaw and bite the hinge. “You feel so good inside me.”

He wants to say so much but he’s never been a man of many words, he can’t tell you how much this moment means to him. How you have seemingly changed his world in such a short time. Before you, he was alone, working to fill the void, but meeting you…it’s like a switch was flipped and he’s hungry for you, for your body, for your attention. He can’t tell you that. You’ll be moving on to marry some rich asshole and have his babies while you are in office. He’s not good enough and his past will come back to haunt him. For now, he lets you use his body and he will leave when the time comes. It’s what has to happen.

You love how he touches you. It’s more intimate than just fucking. It’s like he is your lover, that there are emotions beyond the physical. Panting into his skin, you completely give in to what it feels like to be surrounded by him. “Baby, I love this.” You whine. “You’re so perfect for me.”

He buries his face in your neck, kissing along your neck as you rock on top of him. Your toes on the tile of the kitchen floor as you move yourself. He wants this to be your pace, your pleasure. He will get his after you do.

You whimper, feeling how deep he gets from this angle and loving it. He fits you perfectly, reaching that spot inside you that every time he pulses, your walls clench around him. “God baby, I could sit on your cock all day.” You moan. “That could be how you protect me, just keep me in bed.”

Pero chuckles, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass, “yeah? Is that the way to keep you safe, princess? Keep you creaming my cock? What about your campaign? Are you going to announce that you’re too busy to run anymore because you are cumming on your guard’s cock?”

You moan, imagining the reaction to such a wild announcement. “Yes.” You giggle. “Or you will have to be buried deep inside me as I give speeches from the stage.”

Pero snorts in amusement, imagining Thomas’s face if he were to witness that. “I don’t think your daddy would like that, baby.” He chuckles and smacks your ass, “and I don’t want anyone else seeing your gorgeous tits.”

“They are gorgeous, aren’t they?” You preen, poking your chest up and into his face as he groans and dips his head to wrap his lips around your nipple. “Oh fuck baby, yes. Fuck, I - more.”

He bites down on your nipple, slapping your other breast with his hand. He groans when you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging, and he hisses against your flesh. He wants to make you fall apart, be addicted to him. He wants you to need him like he needs you now.

You cry out in pleasure when he bites down again. Rolling your hope faster as you ride him. Bouncing on his cock as fast as you can while keeping your nipple in his mouth. “Fuck!” You squeal in pleasure.

“Mierda, princesa. Need you to cum for me again.” He growls against your breast, loving the way you’re growing desperate to cum, and he slides his hand down between you to rub your clit. He needs you to cum for him.

You could never call Pero a selfish lover and you stiffen in his arms. Crying out as you clench down around him and pressing your mouth to his shoulder to stifle your sounds while you shake in his arms.

When you clamp down on his cock, he’s overwhelmed by your pleasure and he hisses, grabbing your aaa and he rocks up into you. “I - fuck - I’m gonna cum.” He pants, “fuck, hermosa. Mi princesa.” He groans as he thrusts up into you and falls apart. He fills you up, painting your walls with his hot seed.

“Pero.” You whine if his name is in complete bliss. You love the decadent feeling of him filling you with his cum. It’s slightly cavewomanish, but you love the primal, raw feeling. “Fuck.”

He sighs, burying his face in your neck, and he loves the way you caress his back. “Jesus, we need to clean up again.” He chuckles, kissing along your shoulder until he pulls back to look at you. He cups your cheek and loves the slightly dazed look in your eyes.

“Do you want to soak in a bath with me?” You ask, knowing that he doesn’t relax often but maybe he will if he’s with you. “You can bring your gun into the bathroom.” You tease.

Pero snorts, “I’ll set it on the side just in case someone breaks into the bathroom.” He says, confirming that he will have a bath with you. He wants to be close to you while he can.

You are pleased that he will unwind with you, cupping his cheeks and kissing him softly before you start to slowly pull off his cock. “Perfect.” You hum.

Pero grunts as you lift off of him but you walk off on shaky legs to start the water for the bath and he smiles to himself. He’s getting in deep but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. All he wants is to be close to you and that’s what he’s going to do.

****

 Pero winks at you as you sit down opposite him at your kitchen table with your cup of coffee. In his hand is his phone as he checks your schedule for the week. Fundraisers, campaign events, meet and greets, interviews. It’s a lot and he’s anxious about locking down security to keep you safe. Your phone rings from its place on the table and he frowns when you answer it with “dad?” and he wonders if something has happened.

“Sweetheart, I was hoping that you could squeeze me into your schedule for lunch today.” Your father gets straight to the point, just like he always had. You wonder what he has to say or if this is some kind of meet and greet. “Let me see and I’ll get back to you.”

“Please honey. It’s important. There’s this guy I want you to meet. He could really help your profile in D.C and according to my assistant, he’s ‘cute’. I thought this would be a good way for you to meet.” He says, “he insists on meeting today.”

“Cute.” You don’t like the sound of that. Pero had been in your bed every night since that second attack. He sleeps beside you, around you, wrapping him in your arms protectively while you both rest. “Dad, I’m not interested in being set up.”

Pero’s eyebrows raise at your words, wondering who your father is trying to set you up with. He knows he has no claim to you other than sharing your bed and your body. He doesn’t have your heart. “Please, sweetheart. Even if you don’t want to be set up, he could really help your campaign.” Your father urges and you sigh, “fine. Fine. What time?” Your father tells you he will have his assistant text the details and you hang up after saying goodbye. “A date?” Pero hums, pretending to not be interested but his heart is pounding.

“Someone my father says can help my campaign.” You snort, unsure of how anyone can help when you are this close to the election. You wonder if he’s jealous, knowing you would be in his shoes. You’ve fallen in love with him, but you can’t admit that to him. He would never believe it. “Lunch.”

He wants to make up some excuse about safety and vetting this man but he knows he can’t. He can’t demand anything from you. He nods, “let me know when and where and I will make sure you get there safe and sound.” He promises and looks back at his phone, trying to not look like he’s bothered.

You are hurt by the fact that he seems so nonchalant about this. Hoping that he would have some opinion on it. “Okay.” You murmur. “I guess I should go get ready.”

Pero doesn’t look up from his phone as you make your way into your bedroom to get ready and he sighs, setting his phone down when you’re out of the room. “Fuck.” He murmurs to himself, knowing that he can’t make a claim on you.

By the time you are dressed, you’ve managed to get irritated at Pero. He hasn’t come to talk to you, or kiss you. You hate it. It’s a dose of reality, reminding you that he’s just fucking you because you are available.

Pero notices that you are a little more dressed up than usual and that makes his jaw clench. He asks if you’re ready and you nod. He stands and escorts you to your car, helping you in the front passenger seat. He shuts the door and walks around the front of the car to get into the driver's seat. “So lunch?” He asks when he’s out on the road, the GPS telling him where you are going to eat lunch with another man.

You don’t speak to him beyond answering him, glancing at your phone and answering emails. The chilly divide between you makes your heart ache but you refuse to bare your heart and soul when it’s clear he can’t care less.

Pero doesn’t push for details and he retreats into his professional demeanor. He sighs and pulls up outside the restaurant. It’s fancy and has a valet but Pero doesn’t let them take the car. He gets out and opens the door for you before the valet boy can. He takes your hand and helps you out, squeezing your hand and his dark eyes meet yours as the reality hits that you are going inside to have lunch with another man. Even if your father is there. Secret service is everywhere so Pero isn't needed - at least that’s the order he’s given when he walks into the restaurant, so he heads back outside to wait in the car.

You don’t like that Pero isn’t with you. “Dad….Pero is supposed to stay with me.” You remind him, as if he isn’t the one who had hired him. Your father lifts a brow and chuckles. “You can live without him for a lunch.” He huffs, holding your hand and guiding you towards the table. “My secret service detail is enough for this little meeting.”

Pero isn't happy to sit in the car but he grabs his phone and calls William to ask where he is. “Ah so you finally call me for something other than business?” He asks playfully and Pero scoffs, “pendejo. How do you know I’m not calling about something for work?” He asks the Irishman. “Because I can tell by your voice. Is it about her?” He asks and Pero licks his lips, knowing he shouldn’t say anything but he needs to speak to someone and who can he speak to if he can’t speak to his best friend? “She’s on a fucking date. Set up by her father.” Pero hisses and William laughs. “A date? So her daddy doesn’t know that you two have been-?” Pero growls, “of course he doesn’t. And she didn’t - she didn’t say no to this fucking date.” He grumbles and William chuckles, “you really are a fuckin’ moron, my friend. She can’t say no because then you’ll be in the firing line. She’s protecting you.” He promises and Pero rubs his cheek, “when she’s elected…she will forget all about me. It’s best if I don’t get too attached.” Pero confesses to himself and his friend. “I think she might surprise you.” He hums and Pero snorts, “women are always full of surprises but I think it’s best if I don’t let myself get too involved.” Pero says even though he is involved already. He wants to go inside and get you, take you away, but he can’t. That’s selfish. “I’ll talk to you soon, pendejo.” He says, wanting to be alone with his thoughts for now. “Don’t do something stupid, you prick.” William says before he hangs up the phone.

The man your father has brought to your attention is the last man you would ever be interested in. If you had found the political elite boring and unattractive before, you really do now that you’ve had Pero in your bed for months. The self importance and the power that they think they hold is just unappealing when you have a man who can overpower you in a second but treats you like a beautiful, filthy slut one moment and a princess the next. That feeling that you have fallen for Pero is cemented and you try to be polite during the lunch, but you aren’t interested in anything that is being offered, verbally or otherwise.

Pero tries to distract himself on his phone, even considers finding a cigarette even though he quit years ago. Anything to stop himself from thinking about you in there possibly meeting the man that your father would approve of. A man you should marry. “I’m going to use the restroom.” You announce, taking your purse with you so you can call Pero quickly and your father nods, barely looking up as you walk through the restaurant. Secret Service doesn’t follow you, having got the restaurant surrounded and you walk towards the back of the establishment only to be stopped by one of the waiters. “Our dishwasher is a big fan of yours. Would you mind coming back to see him as he can’t leave the kitchen?” He asks and you glance over at the table where your father is before you nod. “Sure. I can do that.” He opens the door for you and the kitchen is busy as you walk towards the dishwasher who is next to the back door. It happens so fast you barely have time to process it. A handkerchief is pressed against your mouth, smothering your scream and putting the drug into your system. You slump and you’re hidden behind shelves so the waiter lifts you up and carries you out the door. He’s not a waiter. He’s your kidnapper.

The moments tick by and the first sign of trouble is when a blacked out government SUV squeals to a stop in front of the restaurant and several agents rush out through the door. Pero’s heart stops and he jumps out of the car to rush inside.

The secret service agents try to stop him from entering but he pushes forward. Your father nods for him to be let in and he pushes into the restaurant where everyone is quiet and being held. “What the fuck happened? Where is she?” He asks, eyes frantic as he searches the crowd for you. “She - she’s gone. The - a waiter. They - shit.” Your father chokes, feeling guilty because this was a last minute event. “Get me the camera footage. Now.” Pero demands and the manager nods, escorting him to the office to show him any footage. “Tovar, my agents can do this-” Your father says but Pero spins to look at him. “She’d be here if you had let me do my job.” He hisses, not giving a fuck that it’s the former vice president and he follows the manager into his office. The footage is found and Pero growls when he sees the asshole cover your mouth.

Your body is jostled around in the back of a van, speeding and rocking over potholes. “We have to get to the house.” The driver hisses at the person who had posed as the waiter. “They will have discovered she’s gone by now. We torch the van down by the river.”

Pero hisses as he listens to the secret service agents who are trying to justify the reason why they didn’t have agents on the fucking back door. Apparently the one who was positioned there went for a piss. “We need to focus on finding her. Not blaming someone.” Your father shakes his head, and Pero nods, “I will find her.” The secret service agents snort, “you? We have the resources that you do not. You are a security guard. A bodyguard.” They demean him and he clenches his jaw, knowing he’s not going to get any help. He nods and strides out of the restaurant, ignoring the calls for him to stay, and he strides out to his car, pulling his phone out to call William for back up.

“That was quick.” William chuckles but Pero isn’t in any mood to joke. “She’s been abducted.” He growls, furious that he hadn’t listened to his gut. “What? How? The secret service was there?” William knows that this is more personal than anything else that has happened with a client before.

“They fucking - one of them left his post and the waiter. He - he left and he took her. She - fuck!” Pero growls, hitting his hand on the steering wheel after he gets in. He has a general idea on the direction the car drove off and he takes off, keeping William on the phone.

“Shit, shit.” William hisses. “We will find her.” He promises, immediately rushing towards the computers. “Do you know what direction they drove off in?” He asks. “I can tap into the surveillance system, see if I can track the vehicle.”

“Heading north on the highway. I- shit. It’s a white van by the looks of it on the camera. Fuck. I need to find her.” Pero chokes, “I have to.” He can’t let anything happen to you. He would never forgive himself.

“We’ll find her.” William tells Pero again, knowing that he is about to go off the rails. “We will make sure you get to her first. You will be the first one that finds her, make sure she’s safe.”

Pero speeds down the highway, swerving in and out of lanes to try and catch up with the van that has you in it. In his rear view he sees black SUVs behind him but this isn’t secret service duty. This is his duty. He presses harder on the accelerator until William says “they got off at exit 201. Then turned left.” Pero growls, speeding down the ramp and he goes through the red light without care as he chases the van.

The driver is nervous, constantly checking mirrors and trying to race to the location to dump you and his partner. “Shit!” He hisses, seeing a car flying up on them. “We’ve got company! Fuck! How did they find us so fast!” He jerks the wheel, turning to the left in front of a car and making it slam on breaks as he attempts to get away from whoever is coming after them.

Pero sees the van do a u turn and he turns around in traffic, not giving a fuck as he chases the van down another street. There’s a helicopter above but Pero doesn’t give a shit as the van speeds down the road until something happens. The driver hits the curb and the van goes flying in the air. Rolling over in a parking lot of a mattress store and Pero squeals up, his gun in hand as he approaches the van.

You are jarred to consciousness, screaming out when you are slammed into the side of a vehicle and tossed about. You don’t know where you are, or what happened. Panting as you blink and your vision tries to focus but you can’t see anything clearly. “Help!” You scream, voice cracking. “Pero!”

Pero drags the driver out the driver side after practically ripping the door off. The driver has a gun in his hand and Pero wastes no time shooting the asshole in the head. His accomplice is in the back with you and he’s smarter. He grabs a knife and grabs you, pressing it against your neck after Pero opens the door. “I’ll fucking kill her.” He warns and Pero hisses, “pendejo. Let her go. It’s fucking over.”

You scream when you are grabbed, eyes wide with terror when you feel the blade digging into your skin. Only relaxing slightly when the door opens and you hear Pero when you see a dark blur in front of you. “P-Pero.”

“It’s not over. I gotta get paid man. They promised me a million bucks. I need that money.” Pero growls, knowing he can’t kill the asshole because he needs to know who said they’d pay him. “You think a million bucks is anything to her daddy? He will pay double that to get her back.” He bargains and the man shakes his head, “they will kill me.” Pero snorts, “I’m gonna fucking kill you if you don’t let her go.” He warns and the guy’s hand starts to shake. Pero notices it and takes his chance. He leaps into the van, pushing you aside and the knife slices his arm as he grabs the asshole and knocks the knife from his hand, pressing the gun to his temple. He’s tempted to kill him. Tempted to beat him to death for taking you but he has valuable information he needs.

You cry out, hitting your head against the side of the van and you don’t register anything else but darkness. Crumpling to the floor of the van in a heap as you lose consciousness again.

Pero keeps his gun to the guy's head, hating that he can't kill him like he did the other asshole but it doesn't take long for secret service to find him. A mere minute later the black SUVs pull up and Pero shoves the guy to the floor, gun pointed at him until the secret service grab him and Pero holds his hands up even if the secret service know who he is. Once he's cleared seconds later, he shoves his gun into the holster and rushes in to gather you in his arms. "We need a fucking ambulance!" He shouts just as EMTs rush and surround you after Pero carries you out of the van.

An ambulance follows any time there is a call for local police from the secret service. Paramedics rush over to you and Pero just as soon as they stop the vehicle and they transfer you to the gurney and start asking Pero rapid fire questions as they search you for any possible injuries that are able to be treated. You still don’t wake up, making him worry.

"I'm coming in the ambulance." He demands and no one argues right now as he tells them that you were drugged and hit your head when the van flipped. The secret service take care of the asshole who kidnapped you and Pero reaches for your hand when the ambulance is racing towards the hospital. You are still unconscious and Pero kisses the back of your hand. The paramedics notice but don't say anything.

Treating you like a priority trauma because of who you are, the hospital is locked down when you get there. Immediately wheeling you up to the VIP floor that has better security and sending the best trauma doctor to your bedside by the time you arrive there.

Pero rushes to follow you along the corridor until the doctors stop him and he is told to wait in the family waiting room. He nods, knowing the doctors need to do their job but he's terrified that you're seriously injured. He swallows harshly and makes his way to the waiting room to anxiously pace.

In the room, the doctors start to hook you up to the machines, checking you over and they even order a CT since you had sustained a head injury. “Check for internal bleeding.” The attending orders. “Last fucking thing we need is the Vice President’s daughter dying because we missed a step.”

Pero ignores the calls from William, his mind racing as he thinks about how he could've prevented this from happening. Fuck the secret service. He was in charge of your safety and he failed. He failed because he was too busy being jealous about you being on a date. He's a fucking idiot.

“Shit.” The attending’s eyes widen as the wand is pressed against your stomach. “No one said she was fucking pregnant.” It changes the possible course of drugs and treatment that can happen. “Goddamnit, go get that guy that came in with her.”

Pero stands up as the nurse comes into the room and he immediately asks “how is she?” The nurse closes the door behind her and asks, “did you know she is pregnant?” Pero feels like he’s been slapped in the face. His mouth dropping open in shock and he shakes his head. “I didn’t - she said she - she’s on birth control. She’s - she’s - shit. She’s pregnant?” He asks and the nurse nods, “yes. It changes the course of treatment. We need her father here to give authorisation since you aren’t her next of kin.” Pero nods and he doesn’t have to wait for long when the vice president strides into the room surrounded by men in black suits. “My daughter. What’s happening?”

The doctor comes in and shakes the Vice President’s hand. “Sir, your daughter is unconscious right now. She was involved in an accident after being abducted.” He explains. “As her next of kin, we need you to authorize any course of treatment that is not life threatening due to her condition.” The VP frowns. “What condition?” He demands and the doctor coughs slightly. “Sir, your daughter is pregnant. Around six weeks.”

Your father scoffs, "she's not even dating anyone. Who could be-" His eyes cut over to Pero who swallows and stands straight. "Your daughter and I have been sleeping together." He admits and your father clenches his jaw, furious that the man he has been paying to protect you has been fucking you and now has gotten you knocked up. "This - this will ruin her career. This will be a scandal." He growls, "you will marry her. As soon as possible." He demands and Pero frowns, "marry her? I - I cannot." He says and your father huffs, "why not? You're not man enough to own up to your mistakes?" Pero shakes his head, "I love your daughter. She was never a mistake. I just - I cannot marry her. Excuse me." He chokes and pushes his way out the room. Your father lets him go, deciding to speak to the doctor to confirm your treatment plan.

You groan quietly, head pounding and you feel like your skull has been cracked open. “Pe-ro?” You croak out, frowning even before you’ve opened your eyes. The last thing you remember is Pero rushing towards you. “Pero?” Struggling to open your eyes, you wince at the lights as you sense people around you. “Sweetheart, you’re alright.” You hear your dad, feeling him take your hand and you feel his hand over your forehead. “Where- where am I?”

“The hospital. Sweetheart, you’re safe. Secret service is here. You’re okay.” He promises, squeezing your hand. “Just relax. The doctors are looking after you.” He assures you and he hates that the first person you ask for is the father of your child, the man who left the hospital.

You blink several times and look around, expecting to see Pero standing off to the side, standing over you. “Oh.” Your face falls when you realize he’s not in the room. He's not here. “My head hurts.”

“It’s okay. They said it would. Just relax and let the doctors do their job. I’m here, honey.” He promises and he hates that Pero isn’t here. It’s clear that you love the man who just left you in this bed without explanation.

You lean back against the pillow and close your eyes. “Is Pero outside?” You ask quietly. “He doesn’t like being too far away from me.”

“He’s not here. He left.” Your father lets you know and he doesn’t want you to be upset but your heart rate picks up. “He left?” Your eyes open and your father sighs, “he left after the doctor told us…told us that you’re pregnant. Six weeks along.”

“Pregnant?” Your eyes widen in shock and you reach for your stomach. Heart twisting because Pero left without even saying a word to you. “I-“ you close your eyes, chin trembling from trying not to start crying. “I want to be alone.” You manage, your voice thick with tears. “Please.”

“Baby girl.” Your dad chokes, “I- I told him- I said he had to do the right thing and marry you but he - he’s a bastard. Don’t let this affect you. Forget him. We can make this work. You can do this.” Your father promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Just rest. You need to heal.” He says before he steps out of your room.

“Oh god.” You moan, tears splashing down your cheeks as you try to reach for the phone next to your bed. You know his phone number by heart. This has to be a mistake. He is just getting a coffee. He has to be. You dial the number quickly and listen to the phone ringing.

Pero looks at his phone and he contemplates not answering it but he can’t do that to you. You deserve an explanation. He answers by saying your name, his tone low and cold. He needs to protect you.

There a cold tone to his voice when the phone is picked up. “Pero?” You choke out, struggling to sit up as you press the phone to your ear harder. “Pero, where are you? I- I need you.” You beg, starting to cry again.

“I can’t be there, princesa.” He says as he stands outside the hospital. “I’m not good enough for you. I never was. You deserve someone better and your father proved that today. I couldn’t even protect you.” He chokes, his chest tightening.

“You couldn’t protect me because you weren’t allowed in.” You argue. “I- Pero, I want you here. I’m- I’m pregnant.”

He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know, Hermosa. I know.” Your father’s demand that he marry you rings in his mind and he shakes his head. “I can’t be there. I’m not the right man for you. You should consider your options because I can’t be with you. I’m not the man you can run for congress with.”

Your voice catches in your throat and your heart shatters when you hear his words. “You….coward.” You whimper, hanging up the phone and twisting to press your face into the pillow to scream and cry.

Pero looks down at the phone in his hand and he inhales deeply. He looks up at the hospital and he’s tempted to go back inside. To explain properly. He takes a step towards the doors when his name is called. He turns and he’s tense when he sees a woman he’s never seen before in his life. “Who’s asking?” He asks and she chuckles, “someone who knows a lot about your past.”

**** 

You are released the next day. They had monitored you for the slight concussion and your father had fretted over you. Making you eager to go home and shut yourself away. Miserable when you learn that he had managed to have secret service assigned to you after the kidnapping attempt. Pero’s team is dismissed and you return back to your apartment to find every trace of your former lover gone. Leaving you to realize that he had meant what he said. He was not coming back, leaving you pregnant and alone.

Pero inhales the smoke from his cigarette as he sits at William’s kitchen table. “So she knows?” The Irishman asks and Pero nods, “she said she is going to sell the story to the papers. She’s seen too much. Has photos through the window. We made mistakes, got too comfortable. She has photos and proof of my past.” He says, tapping the smoke on the edge of the ashtray.

William grimaces and sighs. “Don’t you think that you should talk to her?” He asks, risking his wrath by bringing you up. “Warn her?” Pero scoffs and inhales another drag of his cigarette. “And tell her what? That I fought off a high ranking officer who wanted to fuck me and was dishonorably discharged for killing him?” He sneers. “She would never believe me. They buried the truth when they ruined my career, my life. All to save the reputation of that bastard.” He’s bitter about what had happened, but there wasn’t shit he could do about it. “She wouldn’t believe me.” He repeats.

“He tried to rape you, my friend. You reacted the way anyone would. You saved yourself.” William reminds him, remembering how the assault had affected his friend. He dreads to think about how Pero would’ve been if the officer had succeeded. “Tell her. She will understand. She- she loves you.” William urges and Pero swallows, “I love her. I am not good enough.” He shakes his head, “the woman wants money. Her father knew that bastard and she saw me on TV standing off to the side near - well, she saw the way I looked at her and figured she could exploit me. I can’t let anyone know but I can’t pay her. It’s hopeless.” He chokes, shaking his head.

“Your girl is smarter than you give her credit for.” William sighs, hating that Pero refuses to trust you. “And she’s got connections that could help you fight against this woman. She’s pregnant with your kid, Tovar.”

Tovar swallows harshly, snubbing his cigarette in the ashtray. He doesn’t know what to do. He exhales the smoke and closes his eyes, hating that the past he tried to escape and thought he had left in Spain has come back to haunt him.

William claps Pero on the shoulder. “I’m going to go make a call.” He offers the other man, knowing that he will stew in indecisiveness unless prompted to act. Despite protecting others' incredible well, Pero Tovar has always been shit at protecting himself. Walking into the other room, William pulls out his phone and calls the number that is your private cell.

Pero shakes his head, glancing across the living room of the home his friend had made with the love he met in China. The General as she is affectionately called is out with their two kids and Pero has watched his dear friend create a life and a family with an incredible woman. He wants the same thing. Secretly always has but he’s never felt worthy of it.

When you pick up the phone, William greets you. “I know that you don’t want to hear from me right now, and you are probably cursing his name, but you need to talk to him.” He spits out before you can hang up on him.

****

Pero frowns when his phone rings and he sees your name on the screen. He picks it up, wanting to make sure you’re okay. “Hermosa?” He answers, confused about why you’re calling him.

“Pero.” You had almost convinced yourself that you should ignore William’s advice but he has known your former lover longer than you have. “I know you probably don’t want to talk but I do.” You tell him. “I want to know why you get to decide that you aren’t good enough for me without even telling me why.”

Pero sighs, “it’s complicated and now I’m - I am trying to protect you.” He urges you to understand why he’s doing this. “Just come and talk to me. That’s all I’m asking.” You request and Pero knows he owes you an explanation. He’s quiet for a long moment before he sighs. “Okay. Are you at home?” He asks, wanting to be there soon to get your rejection over with.

“Yes.” You chew your lip, surprised that he is even agreeing to see you again. You want to see him so badly, but you are afraid of him walking away again. “I’ll see you soon.” You tell him before hanging up so he can’t change his mind.

Pero looks up as William walks in and he knows he is responsible for you calling him. He stands up and pats William on the back, "you're an asshole." He says and the Irishman chuckles, "I bet you won't be saying that later, fucker." Pero snorts, heart pounding in his chest as he slaps William on the back before he makes his way over to your apartment.

You had informed the secret service agent outside the apartment that Pero would be coming. You don’t trust anyone inside with you anymore. Unwilling to let someone that close again, especially being so emotional over your pregnancy. Changing into comfortable clothes, you wait for him, wondering what the hell could possibly be so bad.

Pero rings your doorbell and inhales sharply when he sees you standing there and fuck, you look so beautiful. He's missed you so much. "Hola, princesa." He murmurs, his stomach twisting with nerves.

“Come in.” You wave him in, opening the door wider and nodding to the agent standing beside the door. “I know you don’t want to be here, but can I offer you a drink?”

He nods, "anything with alcohol." He admits and you snort, making your way over to the bar cabinet in the corner so you can pour him a whiskey. He shifts awkwardly until you gesture for him to sit down on the sofa. You hand him the glass and he takes a sip, his eyes meeting yours after he swallows. "How are you? How's-" His eyes flick down to your stomach.

“Still there.” You admit, sliding your hand down to your stomach. You have decided to keep the baby, but you don’t know if you are going to tell him that. It depends on what he tells you. “Strong and healthy according to the doctors.”

He nods, "good." He means that, not wanting you to go through a loss. You deserve to be happy. "Or do you not-?" He adds, wondering if you are planning to keep it.

You frown slightly. “I’m keeping the baby.” You apparently decided to tell him after all. Now the question will be if he wants to have anything to do with it. Or you.

Pero nods, setting the glass down on your coffee table before he rubs his hands together. "I- I need to explain everything." He confesses, "from the beginning." He inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a second. "I- I joined the army when I was nineteen. My father...he was a bastard and I wanted to be better. I worked hard, trained hard, and ended up stationed in San Sebastian. One night...I was asleep in my barracks when I was woken up by a senior officer. I looked up to him. He was older and I aspired to be like him. He invited me to his room and I followed, wanting to discuss my path forward. He gave me some whiskey and we talked until he - well, I was a little drunk and didn't even think about it. He told me to sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the floor and he'd wake me up before the wake up call in my barracks. I fell asleep and he - when I woke up he was trying to push his - he was trying to fuck me." Pero manages to choke out, hating how he is taken back to that moment.

Your eyes widen in shock and you reach for him. Almost grabbing him but you pull away for a second, thinking that he might not want to be touched. “Pero- I- can I?” You ask softly, wanting his permission to touch him. He gives a small nod and you take his hand, holding it as you move closer to him. It’s obvious that whatever happened after Pero woke up that night has haunted him and you refuse to let him blame himself as a victim. “Nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you.” You promise.

Pero shakes his head, "I - I blacked out. I was furious and I ended up - when I came back to myself he was dead on the floor." Pero confesses, "I was covered in blood when someone walked in and I thought I was going to be arrested. I was taken to military jail but then I was let free and dishonorably discharged. It turns out the asshole's family didn't want anyone to know what he did. He had done it before and he paid his last victim off. They wanted to protect his reputation. I ended up in a private army, met William, and he got me a visa to the U.S and now here I am. There's a journalist. She - she has photos of us through the windows here and she - she knows my past. She is going to release an article to try and destroy your campaign so that's why I need to leave." He explains, his dark eyes focused on the coffee table.

You snort, shaking your head. “She can try, but she’ll fail.” You assure him confidently. “I’ll have my team research the statistics on male victimized sexual assaults and ask why she is blackmailing - I’m assuming she’s asking for money - victims of crimes for her own financial gain.” You know the type, she has no morals and wants to enrich her life while destroying another. “I’ll go so far as to drag up the man’s true history and expose it to the world. I doubt the family would be happy about that.” You squeeze his hand. “You were attacked and defended yourself. No one in the entire world should blame you for that.”

Pero shakes his head, "she will ruin your campaign. I can't allow her to do that after you have worked so hard, mi amor. You will lose voters. I can't let you help me. It's best if I walk away. Even if it kills me." He chokes, knowing that it will be the hardest thing he will ever do.

“Then I quit.” You decide. “I will withdraw from the race.” Pero’s eyes widen in shock and he shakes his head but you cut him off before he can protest. “Because I would rather not be elected than to go without the man I love and the father of my baby.”

Pero closes his eyes at hearing what he knows to be true. You love him. He has always hoped and deep down, he knew, but he refused to acknowledge that someone like you could love a monster like him. He sighs and leans in to press his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna be an incredible congresswoman.” He murmurs, “you can do so much good. I can’t let you quit.”

“And I can’t let you walk away. Not if you love me.” You feel like he loves you, but those doubts have been amplified by all this. “Unless you don’t want this?” You ask seriously. “Some men don’t want a wife and a family. If you don’t, I won’t ever say a negative word about you, to anyone.”

Pero cups your cheeks and pulls back to look at you. “I love you. Te amo. More than you could imagine. More than I thought I was capable of. I want you. I want our baby. His hand slides down to your stomach, “I was so shocked when I found out and your father…he said I had to marry you to save your campaign but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to marry you because you got pregnant. I want to marry you because I love you.”

“Then we will get married because we love each other.” You murmur softly. “And I don’t care if I lose voters because of your past. If they vote differently due to that, they were never really on my side to begin with.”

Pero knows this won't be easy. You'll be criticized for marrying a murderer. For marrying a man who couldn't protect himself. He inhales deeply and buries his face in your neck to hide the tears that he hasn't shed in years threaten to spill over.

“Te amo, mi amor.” You murmur softly, holding him close as his chest heaves. “You are safe.” You promise, knowing that he needs reassurances just like you do, maybe more so. Maybe this is why he takes his job so seriously. “I love you.”

Pero sniffs as he pulls back, "you are so fucking incredible, hermosa." He cups your cheeks and leans in to kiss you softly, wanting to convey how much you mean to him. "Can I - can I touch you?" He asks, wanting to make sure since you have been through so much.

You groan quietly, nodding in his hands. “Yes.” You answer breathlessly. “Please, Baby. I’ve missed you so much.” You know it hasn't been very long since he’s been gone, but you’ve felt like every second has been a year apart. “The doctors say the baby is healthy and I’m okay to have sex.”

Pero sighs in relief that the baby is okay and he gently kisses you, grabbing your thighs to pull you into his lap. "I love you." He promises against your lips and his hands slide around to squeeze your ass.

“I love you too.” You murmur softly, kissing the edge of his scar on his cheek. You wonder if he got it when he was attacked, but you don’t want to make him talk about that time right now. “I need you, Pero.”

He won't deny you anything now. The mother of his child. The woman he loves. “Tell me what you need, hermosa, and it’s yours.” He promises, his hands sliding up under your shirt to caress your spine.

He’s not wearing a suit. The jeans and a Henley are wildly sexy on the Spaniard and your cunt clenches and gushes in anticipation. “I want you inside me.” You moan softly. “I want you to make love to me.”

He groans, knowing he can do that. He reaches for the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and he tosses it down so he can admire your tits. “Mierda.” He pants, bends down to lick along the swell of your breasts while he fumbles to unclip your bra.

“Pero.” You moan softly, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy this moment. Needing it to reassure yourselves that what you have is real and true. You had meant what you said, you’d rather not be elected than to be without him. He slides your bra down your arms and when you lift them to place around his neck, he ducks his head to capture a nipple in his hot mouth. “Fuck!”

He wants to make you feel good, to make you cry out, so he gently sucks on your nipple, knowing it must be sensitive until he releases it with a pop and switches over to the other.

Tears start to slide down your cheeks, overwhelmed and so fucking happy that he’s here again that you start crying. Emotional and trembling because you love him so much and you hate that he’s had to believe that he’s a monster for so long.

Your tears make him frown when he leans back until he sees the smile on your face and he leans forward to kiss away your salty tears. "I'm here, amor." He promises, kissing your cheeks until he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, trying to relay every ounce of emotion he holds for you.

Your tears dry up quickly when you feel his passion. Catching you in fire as you drag him even closer and your hips roll forward to press your throbbing cunt against his cock. Feeling the bulk of him hardening for you.

He groans, “fuck. I love you.” He kisses along your neck, and he cups your tits, gently squeezing them. “And I love these.” He murmurs, kissing down to take your nipple into his mouth again.

You whine his name, fingers sinking into his hair like they normally do. Everything has always been so natural with Pero. He knows what you need and how to touch you. “I love you. Fuck, I love the way you touch me. No one else ever made me feel like you do, baby.”

Pero loves to hear it, his hands sliding down into your leggings to squeeze your ass. “Take these off.” He demands against your skin, wanting to see all of you, feel all of you, worship all of you.

You hum, sliding off his lap and standing on shaky legs to hook your fingers into your leggings. Stripping them down with your panties so you are completely bare. The agents won’t come into your apartment, but you don’t care if they do or not. As long as you have Pero touching you, you don’t care who sees.

Pero’s cock aches as he takes in the sight of you naked before him. His hands immediately reach out to grab your waist, pulling you close, and he leans down to press his lips to your stomach. “Nuestro niño.” He murmurs, taking in the fact that his baby is inside you.

Softening, you bend over and press your lips to his head. Incredibly touched by how loving he is to your baby. The baby you created together. “I love you.” You promise, tilting his head back and kissing his lips as you slide into his lap again.

He caresses your back and gently lifts you, shifting beneath you to lay you down on the sofa. His hands slide up your legs, pushing them apart and he groans at the sight of your cunt. You’re so goddamn beautiful. He leans in to kiss along your inner thigh, inhaling the heady scent of your pussy as he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You whimper, not expecting him to use his tongue on you, but it feels so good. Pero is a surprisingly giving lover. Most would assume that he is harsh and greedy because of his dark scowls but he loves hearing you cry out his name in pleasure. “Fuck! Pero.”

He groans, caressing your thighs, and he loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair. He slides his tongue up to flick over your clit, inhaling your scent, and he is so happy he’s here with you.

Pero holds your thighs in his hands, spreading them wide so he can eat you like he wants to. You let him, would let him do anything that he wants. “Fuck baby. I love you so much.”

Pero is ravenous now. Knowing you’re his, that you love him, has him ready to devour you. He desperately wants you to cum for him. He pushes his tongue into you, curling it as he presses his nose against your clit.

His tongue turns demanding, curling up inside you. You whimper and tug on his hair, making him groan into your cunt. You’re sensitive from the pregnancy and from being apart from him for a few days, not used to him not touching you every day after months together. “Pero!” You choke out.

He wants you to cum for him, desperately needs to feel it, and he laps at your cunt like a man starved. He’s been away from you for too long and he is ravenous. Lapping at your clit before pushing his tongue back into your pussy.

When he is between your thighs, the rush of your orgasm always slams through you like a train. Pushing you off the edge with a loud cry and a buck of your hips when your cunt clamps down around his tongue. “Fuck!”

Pero loves it, loves the way you cry out when you cum, and he laps at your pussy to get every damn drop. His hands caress your thighs as you pant through your orgasm, and he sighs, leaning in to press wet kisses to your lower stomach. “Te amo, princesa.”

“I love you, Pero.” You murmur softly. “I want to feel you.” You want to see his face when he cums, feel him trembling. Your heart flutters when his dark eyes meet yours and you know that you will always be grateful that he loves you.

Pero nods, “I love you.” He promises and shifts to stand from the sofa, pulling his Henley over his head and tossing it to the floor while he kicks off his shoes. His jeans are next, unbuttoned and shoved down along with his briefs to reveal his hard, aching cock. “Are you sure, hermosa?” He asks as he kneels between your legs.

“I’ve never been more sure.” He’s asking about the sex, but you can also see the slight edge of doubt in his eyes. Unable to believe you would accept him knowing his secrets. “Come to me, amor.”

He nods, shifting closer and he grips his cock, pumping himself slowly as he takes in the sight of your beautiful body, growing his baby, and the fact that you love him. He sighs and notches himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you with a groan.

It’s perfect. Feeling him sink into you is almost like he is coming home. You moan softly, lifting your legs to his hips and pulling him down on top of you. “You won’t hurt us,” you promise. “The baby is the size of a bean right now.”

Pero nods but he tries to keep his weight off you while he pushes deeper into you with a groan. “I - love you. I- was so fucking terrified when they took you. I failed you.” He chokes, caressing your cheek.

“No you didn’t.” You promise, leaning up to kiss him softly. “You saved me. The agents told me that you were the one that found me. They don’t know if they would have found me.” You had been told that in confidence, but you want him to know that you trust him completely.

Pero sighs, shaking his head, “I - I was terrified that you were gonna- that they would - I had to find you. There was no other choice.” He tells you and kisses your chin as he starts to move inside you.

You caress his back, urging him on. You know what he was thinking, how he must have been so frantic. Angry. He had looked like a vengeful god of old when you had watched him glaring at your captor. “I love you.”

He closes his eyes at your words and inhales deeply against your neck, breathing you in. Reassuring himself that you’re here. He rocks into you, slow and soft as he lets you absorb every rock of his hips with a soft moan.

It’s not in a bed, but it’s soft and sweet. Romantic almost. All that is between you is the little bit of air and the sheen of your sweat. Your eyes close as he makes you feel loved and cherished with his body and hopefully you make him feel the same.

Your hands caressing his back is almost healing. He swallows down the lump in his throat as you look at him with dazed eyes and he can’t help but lean in to kiss you, his tongue languidly sliding into your mouth to stroke yours.

You love him, love the way he touches you. The way he is greedy for you. You can forgive him for leaving, for not trusting you. But you won’t let him walk away again. You pour yourself into the kiss and rock your hips up, your body cradling his.

Your heels dig into his ass and he moves a little faster, panting into your mouth when you squeeze him within your walls as he rocks into you. “Mierda.” He grunts, sneaking his hand between your bodies so he can rub your clit.

You whine, loving how he always wants you to cum. You’ve never had a lover who was so focused on you before him. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum.” You pant out seconds before stars burst behind your eyes and your cry of his name is so loud the agents outside hear it.

When you clamp down on his cock, he knows the agents outside can hear and he fucking loves it. Loving the fact that he’s the one making you feel like this. He grunts, working you through it and he isn’t sure if he can last when he’s overwhelmed by emotion.

“Cum for me baby, I want to feel it. I’ve missed feeling you.” You beg, your nails scratching down his back lightly and you clench down around him again.

He pants, closing his eyes as he thrusts into you a half dozen more times and he hisses when it hits him hard. He groans your name as he starts to cum, painting your walls with his hot seed as he buries his face in your neck.

You whimper in pleasure. Running your fingers through his hair and stroking his back as he rocks himself through his orgasm. “I love you, Pero.” You murmur softly. “You’re who I want. A family, a life with you.”

He sighs, kissing along your jaw. “There’s so much to figure out but let’s just forget about it for right now and focus on us.” He murmurs against your skin as he relaxes, shifting to his side and he brings you into his chest, your thigh thrown over his hip.

You curl onto his chest and feel more relaxed than you have since you woke up in the hospital. “We can worry about things later.” You agree, pressing your lips to his pec. “Right now, I just want to lay here with you and rest.”

**** 

Pero opens the door for you, your secret service nearby and Pero didn’t argue with them being close since you’re pregnant. She sits at the table in the corner and Pero clenches his jaw as he places his hand on your lower back as he escorts you to the table. He wanted to do this alone but you insisted and the public setting means she can’t do anything. You sit down and Pero takes a seat beside you, his hand reaching for yours. “So you’re together.” She hums, “well, that makes this sweeter. I want fifty grand to not leak this story.” She demands and Pero snorts, “I don’t care if you leak it. We are prepared and I’m not ashamed of my past.” He sits a little straighter and you squeeze his hand.

She snorts and lifts a brow, clearly believing that she has some kind of upper hand. “Really? You want the world to know that you killed your lover in a drunken rage?” She asks, looking over at you. “How will your voters look at you? Knowing you support that?” You chuckle and pick up a report that your legal staff has put together. “They will believe that I support the victim of sexual assault.” You tell her. “The man that Pero killed in self defense had other victims.” You hum. “Four men. Four other victims who can give the exact same story as Pero. Who lived through his assault.” You lean back in your seat. “You will look like the scheming bitch you are when this little conversation is aired, alongside the victim’s stories and Pero’s account.” You nod towards the surveillance camera in the corner. “There’s audio.”

She narrows her eyes, “isn’t that illegal?” She asks and Pero snorts, “and blackmailing the former vice president’s daughter and her lover isn’t?” He counters and the woman is fuming, “and what will you do? Stand beside her like a good boy. Letting everyone know what a weak man you are to even let another man try and fuck you.” She growls and Pero clenches his jaw, “I was drunk.” She scoffs, “drunk? Pathetic.” Pero feels that anxiety swirl in his chest when he thinks about that night. What nearly happened. You hiss at her, “he is not pathetic. He’s strong. He survived and fought. Get out of here. You won’t get a dime.” She gathers her things with a huff and shakes her head, “I hope you lose. You’re a fucking cunt.” She says to you and Pero stands, his eyes narrowing but you squeeze his hand to calm him. “Get the fuck out of here.” Pero hisses, trying to keep his cool. She scurries out and Pero sits down beside you, turning his head to rest his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry you’ve been put in this situation.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You murmur, kissing him softly. You had been worried that she would make a bigger public spectacle but it had actually gone really well. “I love you. I don’t care about what people think about that.”

Pero sighs, knowing that he’s going to rock your campaign with this revelation. He leans in to kiss you again and several in the coffee shop are recording you both. It’s time to go public. **** 

Pero rubs his hand on his leg, the other holding yours while the news anchor talks about his relationship with you and his past. It’s a lot to take but you are handling the interview well. He sits beside you, letting you take the lead on this when he hasn’t been prepared for this type of exposure.

“To be honest, I’m sorry that his - for lack of a better word - trauma had to be revealed and talked about like this.” You admit, looking over a Pero with a reassuring smile. “Hopefully, now that the truth is out there, people can see that victim shaming or blaming isn’t the right way to go about things. Do I expect him to be an advocate? No.” You hum. “He should not have to put himself on display because of my political aspirations. If my voters think differently, then I think I would have to rethink this. Especially since my fiancé and I are expecting our first child.”

The interviewer's eyes widen, “you’re - engaged and a baby on the way?” She exclaims, thrilled to have this exclusive be even more exposing. “That’s - congratulations.” She says to you and Pero who smiles and nods, “thank you.” He squeezes your hand, “and I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone for their messages. This hasn’t been easy to discuss, especially so publicly, but I am happy to create dialogue around a subject that is so often pushed aside because men have to appear strong and emotionless. I killed a man to defend myself and for that, I will forever be haunted by the snap decision. I apologize to his family but I can’t regret it when he was trying to - to harm me like he had done so to others. That is my past, but I am ready for a future beside this beautiful woman and our child.”

“Well, I hope that it works out for you.” She tells you both, nearly squirming in excitement for the story and signs off the interview. “Do you think you’ll win?” She asks you, off the record as the sound people come to unclip your mics and release you from the tangle of hidden cords. “I hope so.” You tell her honestly. “But even if I don’t win the election, I will still have won.” You look over at Pero and smile. “I found the love of my life guarding over me.”

Pero wraps his arm around your waist and leans in to kiss the side of your head. “I love you.” He murmurs and you smile at him with a love in your eyes he never thought he would experience. 

**** 

“And that’s why today, I’ve decided to run for president!” You declare behind the podium, the crowd cheering, and Pero stands proudly beside you, your three children at his side and he scans the crowd, constantly protecting you. Some in the press would say he’s your shadow and that’s right. He won’t risk anything happening to you or the kids. He’s your head of security and he jokingly says he protects you even while he sleeps. He never imagined that taking the job to look after the former vice president’s daughter would lead to him potentially being the first husband of the president but it’s your journey and he would follow you anywhere.

[itsaintmebabe]

close enough

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ chapter five !

summary: vi's subtle longing for y/n grows with each lingering moment, and when their playful teasing takes an intimate turn, a sudden interruption leaves their connection unspoken but undeniable.

pairing: hockey player! vi x sports med trainer!fem! reader

notes: im loving building up the tension sm but i promise more couply stuff soon!! comment or message me if you wanna be added to the taglish and let me know how you guys are feeling about the story!!! <3

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ chapter six / series masterlist

The next few weeks passed with a rhythm that felt suspiciously like routine. Vi found herself waiting for moments with Y/N, not always deliberately, but somehow always lingering near the sports med room longer than necessary or cracking jokes that earned her soft laughs and those quick, fluttery glances she couldn't stop thinking about.

Their conversations were easy, more comfortable now, toeing the line between casual and something more. Their teasing had developed its own language, one that made Y/N’s stomach twist in that dangerous, excited way. The touches lingered a little longer, the glances held a little too long, and neither of them seemed eager to put distance between them.

Vi had a habit of getting her hands wrapped before every practice, always had, but it was never Y/N who did it. Not because she didn’t want to, but because Vi seemed to have made it a routine with another med staffer. Still, Y/N was always nearby, sometimes organizing supplies or tending to other athletes, always exchanging words with Vi, their voices laced with unspoken undercurrents.

Today was different.

Y/N was alone in the sports med room, cross-legged on one of the padded tables, a thick book splayed open on her lap. Her highlighter danced across the page, her brow furrowed in focus, lips slightly parted in concentration. She looked peaceful, tucked away from the cold buzz of the rink outside. Unaware of the pink-haired girl standing at the doorway.

Vi leaned against the frame, her arms crossed lazily over her chest as she watched Y/N, a slow smile creeping onto her face. She liked seeing her like this, absorbed, unguarded. Something about the way Y/N moved when she thought no one was watching made something in Vi’s chest ache in the best way.

“Careful,” Vi finally called out, breaking the silence. “You're gonna burn a hole through that page with how hard you’re staring.”

Y/N startled slightly, looking up with a breathless laugh and rolling her eyes as she set the highlighter down. “Maybe if you stared at your playbook half as much, your coach wouldn’t be so stressed all the time.”

Vi chuckled, stepping into the room. “Wow. Harsh today, huh? Remind me to bring you a coffee before I ask you for anything next time.”

Y/N smirked, sliding the book shut. “You always ask for something anyway. What is it today, tape, ice, emotional support?”

Vi moved closer now, her steps unhurried. “None of the above,” she said, voice softer now. “Well… maybe a little support. Think you could wrap my hands today?”

The shift in her tone wasn’t lost on Y/N. Her teasing smile softened into something quieter, more intimate. “Of course,” she said, hopping down from the table. “Just give me a second.”

She moved around the room with practiced ease, gathering the supplies. Vi sat on the padded table where Y/N had just been perched, spreading her legs a bit to make room.

Y/N returned, stopping in front of her and taking Vi’s hands gently in her own. Her fingers were careful, focused, but Vi noticed the slight tremor in her touch, the way her thumb grazed Vi’s palm like she was afraid of holding on too tight, but didn’t want to let go either.

“Didn’t think you’d ever ask me to do this,” Y/N murmured, starting to wrap.

Vi tilted her head slightly. “Didn’t want to make you fall for me too fast. Thought I’d ease you into it.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, glancing up briefly but not meeting Vi’s eyes. “Right. That must be why you’ve been hovering around the med room like a lost puppy lately.”

“Not a puppy,” Vi shot back, grinning. “A wolf. Cool. Mysterious. Very smooth.”

“Definitely not smooth,” Y/N muttered, and Vi swore she was smiling.

The two of them were so close, the space between them charged with something unsaid. Y/N focused on her work, but her pulse was pounding at the feel of Vi’s skin under her fingers. The tension in her shoulders, the way Vi’s legs bracketed her in gently, not in a trapping way but in something that felt oddly protective.

Vi couldn’t stop watching her. The crease in her brow, the way her lashes fanned over her cheeks when she looked down, the gentleness in her every movement. She wanted to say something. Something real. But the words stuck behind her teeth.

Y/N finished the last wrap, taping it off before carefully setting Vi’s hands down. She reached to set the supplies on the table beside them, and when she turned back, she met Vi’s eyes.

They were breathtaking, so blue, so focused. But not just on her. Into her.

Vi’s gaze dropped to her lips.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

Vi shifted forward slightly, one hand starting to reach for Y/N’s waist like it was second nature. Her palm hovered there, fingers aching to pull her close. Y/N didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in, just a bit, her eyes flicking from Vi’s lips to her eyes again.

It was all happening slowly. Carefully. Like the universe was holding its breath.

“Vi!” Claire’s voice cut through the moment like a blade, the door swinging open with a loud creak. “Coach wants to go over the new forecheck—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

Vi and Y/N snapped apart like magnets yanked apart by force. Y/N took a full step back, cheeks flushed, and turned her head toward Claire with a small, “Hey.”

Claire blinked, her eyes bouncing between the two of them before raising a single eyebrow in unmistakable suspicion. “Uh… yeah. Coach. Playbook. Now.”

Vi stood slowly, clearing her throat and casting one last look toward Y/N. She didn’t say anything, just smiled, soft and a little crooked, and started toward the door.

Y/N watched her the whole way, arms folded across her chest to hide the way her hands still trembled.

Vi paused at the doorway, turning back just as Claire was already halfway down the hall.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur, like it was meant for her alone.

Y/N smiled, small, warm, everything in her chest fluttering. “Anytime.”

And Vi left, but the ghost of her hand on Y/N’s waist lingered long after she was gone.

—

Y/N couldn’t stop replaying that moment in the sports med room. The way Vi’s hand had hovered just shy of her waist, fingers twitching like she wanted to pull her closer but didn’t. And worse, Vi’s eyes had been fixed on her mouth like it held every answer she’d ever wanted. The warmth of her breath, the low murmur of her voice, it had left Y/N’s heart fluttering like a warning bell, or maybe a promise.

That ghost of a near-kiss followed her like a shadow as the rest of her shift blurred by. She was meant to leave early today, to slip out before the women’s team wrapped up practice, but Mel had texted from the library in a panic over a looming chemistry exam. Y/N hadn’t even hesitated before agreeing to cover her. And when a player from the men's team decided he needed a last-minute ice bath, her early departure turned into a stay that dragged thirty more minutes longer than expected.

By the time she pulled on her hoodie and adjusted the strap of her heavy, overstuffed purse over her shoulder, her limbs felt tired but her thoughts still clung to Vi. She stepped out of the sports med room, locking the door behind her, exhaling slowly, only to startle slightly at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Jesus, Y/N. Is that a purse or your entire apartment in there?" Vi’s voice came from where she leaned against the wall next to the door, arms crossed, smirk cocked like a loaded weapon.

Y/N turned, unimpressed but hardly annoyed. Her lips curled, a soft smile betraying her fondness as she raised an eyebrow. “Some of us like being prepared. You wouldn’t understand, you barely carry your keys.”

Vi grinned wider, eyes drinking her in. “I don’t need keys when I’ve got charm. Works like magic, actually.”

Y/N snorted. “Is that what you tell yourself when your charm doesn’t get you through a locked door?”

Vi pushed off the wall, walking forward until she stood in front of Y/N, eyes glittering beneath the dim hallway light. "Nah. That’s when I call you. My favorite fixer."

The teasing had become their language, smooth, effortless, edged with affection. It used to be playful, even impersonal, but now there was something softer curled beneath it. Y/N felt it in the way Vi looked at her, as if she were memorizing details she didn’t want to forget.

Vi glanced down at the purse strap digging into Y/N’s shoulder. Without a word, she stepped forward, her hand brushing against Y/N’s arm as she slid the bag from her shoulder with practiced ease. Y/N blinked, a flush crawling up her neck. Vi didn’t say anything about it, just threw the strap over her own shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Come on,” she said, turning casually like she hadn’t just made Y/N’s stomach twist in knots.

They walked side by side in silence, the air between them no longer crackling with unspoken tension but buzzing with something quieter, something hopeful. The teasing didn’t stop entirely, though. Vi would throw in a comment here or there, about the way Y/N walked too fast, or the size of her hoodie sleeves. Y/N would roll her eyes, but she found herself stepping closer anyway, drawn to Vi like gravity.

Before long, they reached Y/N’s car. Vi opened the passenger side and set her bag down carefully, then moved back to stand in front of her, just like last time. Familiar, yet… changed.

Vi didn’t say anything at first. She just watched her, her blue eyes soft in the streetlight, shadowed and thoughtful. Then she leaned in, slow, almost unsure, until their noses nearly brushed. Her voice, when it came, was a whisper.

“You always look like you’re thinking about something important when I catch you off guard.”

Y/N blinked, her breath catching. She hadn’t expected that. Not from Vi. Not tonight.

“Maybe I am,” she whispered back, her hand instinctively reaching out to steady herself on Vi’s arm. She could feel the warmth of her through the thin fabric.

Vi’s gaze dropped to her lips again. Her hand hovered again at Y/N’s waist, then rested just an inch away, like she didn’t want to cross the line unless Y/N asked her to.

The moment pulsed between them, full of possibility. Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest, unsure if she wanted to close the distance or hold it just a little longer. She could feel the shift, the way Vi wasn’t just teasing anymore. This wasn’t just a game.

“I… should go,” Y/N said finally, her voice trembling slightly.

Vi stepped back immediately, something like regret flashing behind her eyes, though her smile never faltered. “Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “Yeah, I get it.”

Y/N opened her car door slowly, glancing back as she got in. Vi was still watching her, like she didn’t want to look away yet.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said, quiet but sincere.

“Night, Vi,” Y/N replied, closing the door gently.

As she pulled out of the lot, she saw Vi still standing there in her rearview mirror. Still watching. Still waiting.

And all Y/N could think was how badly she wanted to turn around and tell her she wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet.

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ taglist !

@daughterofthemoons-stuff @strawb4kdior @lover-girl009 @aprilshireath @brianna-merlim @jinririz @arahiraaai @yeinbae @jupitism @ii-vee @vxtanne31 @brooks-lin @re1daway @st0nerlesb0 @starletfemme

[littleslaywrites]

tiaras and tea parties | aaron hotchner 

summary: Hotch spends his day off with his young daughter. (girldad!hotch headcanon fic)

based on this request

word count: 1.2k

cw: girldad!hotch, pure fluff, no mention of a reader or the daughter's mother

When Hotch has one of his rare days off, he dedicates his time to his family. Jack had gotten to an age where he preferred time in his room or with his friends to hanging out with his father, but his daughter would never pass up the opportunity for a hang out when he was home. 

So this weekend, he’d promised a full Saturday dedicated to a daddy-daughter date. He’d gotten up early to make her breakfast. When he finished cooking, he stood outside her bedroom door, plate in hand. The room was filled with toys and stuffed animals that Hotch could never resist buying for her. The walls were adorned with clouds and rainbows, paintings Aaron had done before she was born, when he'd found out she would be a girl. She was wrapped up in her blankets, clutching the pink bear she’d had since she was a baby.

"Good morning, princess,” he says as he walks over to the edge of her bed.

“Morning,” she says, little fists rubbing her eyes. Her face lights up when she sees the breakfast.

“I know the chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite,” he says, setting them down on a tray table on her lap. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says as she digs into the pancakes. 

‘You’re welcome,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He can’t help but smile at the chocolate that dots the corners of her mouth. “So, what do you want to do today? The whole day is yours.”

She thinks, chewing the pancakes. She throws out at least a dozen ideas before settling on the toy store, ice cream, and a tea party. He happily agrees, knowing he’d probably do anything she asked. 

When she’s finished with her breakfast, she insists on wearing her princess dress out. Hotch thinks it's only fitting, since she's his little princess. She twirled around once it was on, gazing at how the sparkles caught the light. She hands him her matching pink purse, and he takes it happily.

The two drive to the toy store first. She’s nearly buzzing with excitement as he takes her out of the car, setting her down on the ground. One of his hands carries the purse, and the other holds one of her hands. 

Once they get into the store, he lets her go off, trailing just behind her as she runs through the aisles. After about ten minutes, she pauses in front of a shelf, her eyes landing on a barbie in a purple gown. 

“You want that one?”

“Yes, please,” she says. One of her hands reaches out, and Hotch picks it up from the high shelf and places it in her hand. They check out, and get back in the car, heading to the ice cream shop.

Aaron gets one scoop of vanilla and one of coffee, and his daughter contemplates the various flavors. He picks her up, holding her so she can observe the colors in each carton. She decides on one scoop of cotton candy and one cookie dough, ensuring it’s topped with sprinkles. 

The two sit down on a bench outside, and his daughter swings her feet as she enjoys her ice cream. He’s got a smile stuck to his face as he watches her eat.

“Hey, Hotch,” he hears someone say. Turning his head, he sees Morgan approaching. “I was running some errands and I almost thought I hallucinated the boss man smiling.”

He laughs. He was more than aware he didn’t show this side of himself at work much, but he could hardly resist when he was out with his daughter. “Morgan, this is my little girl.” 

She waves to Morgan, smiling with ice cream on her plump cheeks. Hotch smiles proudly, happy to show off his darling whenever he had the chance. 

“Ah, there’s the gal who’s turned you soft.” He crouches down in front of the girl. “Hey, sweetheart. Enjoying your dad’s day off?”

She nods happily. Hotch chuckled at Morgan’s comment about going soft. He had to admit his little girl had brought a new gentleness into his life. He loved his firstborn son with his whole heart, but having a daughter had changed him. He’d always been protective, but his daughter had intensified that. He wanted to keep her from all harm, needing to see her smile at all times. He’d also become more patient and tender, and he realized the team must’ve noticed it, too. 

“We’re having a tea party later,” she says in between bites.

“You’re welcome to join, Morgan,” Aaron says teasingly. 

‘I’ll pass this time,” he says, laughing, “but thanks for the invite.”

Morgan gives her a high five before walking into the store behind them, and the two finish their desserts. They return home, and she places her new barbie in the dreamhouse she’d gotten for her birthday that year. 

“Tea party time?”

“Tea party time,” he confirms, sitting down at the small table in her room. It’s short, and his knees press against his chest as he sits in the chair. 

She busies herself with setting down plastic cups. Looking at the arrangement, she doesn’t seem quite satisfied. So, she goes into her toy chest, finding a tiara.

“For you, Daddy,” she says, holding it out. He takes it, placing it atop his head. He’s sure he must look ridiculous, a seasoned FBI agent wearing a plastic princess tiara while pretending to sip tea. He doesn’t care, though. He’d embarrass himself hundreds of times over if it brought a smile to his daughter’s face.

She insists on serving the “tea”, which was really just air and imagination. Nevertheless, her face is full of concentration. He almost laughs when he realizes it’s the same look he gets when he’s too focused on figuring out a profile. 

When she sits across from him, he pretends to sip the tea. “It’s delicious, princess.”

“I knew you’d like it, Daddy,” she says, big brown eyes shining. They’re his eyes, but they hold a hint of sweetness he’d lost until she was born. She’s very much a copy of him, with the same dimples and, occasionally, the same glare, but she somehow made all the features more adorable. 

The hours pass, and she tires him out from all the playing with dolls, watching movies, and board games. After sunset, she yawns tiredly. It’s a precious sound, one he’ll never get tired of, even though it means their day is over. 

He dresses her in her favorite pajamas, and settles beside her in bed, reading her a story. She didn’t ask for one, but he wanted an excuse to spend just a few more minutes with her. She snuggles into his side, one hand gripping his shirt as she listens to his voice. 

“Goodnight, princess. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Daddy,” she says, eyes shutting as she drifts off to sleep. He presses a kiss to her forehead, not wanting to get up just yet. 

Next to her, he felt at peace. The sleeping girl at his side was the opposite of the hectic cases he’d always get pulled away on. His daughter brought a stillness to his life, keeping him grounded when he got too caught up in work. He had made a promise to himself that he’d always find time for these moments, knowing she needed her father around as she grew up. Little did he know, it was him who needed the time together all along.

[tessasturns]

WHAT ARE WE?

pairing… fwb!chris x reader

part 7 to ‘texting/blurbs with bsf!chris’

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6)

(masterlist)

the night ends with you and chris laying on his bed, laughing like the old times.

you wake up next to him, peeling your eyes open to meet his. “you’re pretty when you sleep” he mumbles.

“creep” you murmur, sitting up on his bed. “hey we never really figured anything out last night, y’know, between us”

“oh yeah.” he says, sitting up as well. “well i don’t want to rush you into anything at all, we can go at whatever pace you’d like.”

“yeah, i think thats good. same goes for you, i want you to be comfortable as well.” you add.

“start slow?” he asks.

“you’re not gonna run away this time, right?”

“promise.”

you hold out your pinky just to be sure, and he makes it a pinky promise. the two of you sit together, basking in each others presence.

“chris i swear if you took my- oh hey” matt bursts in the room, his tone changing after seeing you.

you clear your throat. “hey matt”. matt walks in the room and starts looking on chris’ desk, despite his lack of words.

“yo matt what are you doing? do you need something?” chris asks, sitting at the edge of his bed.

“did you take my charger?” matt replies. the boys bicker as you lay on your back, tuning them out.

“okay, here. happy?” chris mumbles, throwing matt a charger. “very.” he responds, walking out the door.

chris lays back down with you, the two of you staring at the ceiling.

“so…maccas for breakfast?” you ask, turning to see his face. “hell yeah” he responds, the two of you immediately shooting up and getting dressed.

after you change out of your pyjamas you drive with chris to the nearest mcdonalds and order some breakfast.

you pull into a parking lot and enjoy your food. chris doesn’t say much, aside from the random and unnecessary brainrot.

“chris, i have an idea.” you speak up, clearing your throat. “okay” he motions for you to go on.

“what if we just started as friends but…with benefits?” you ask. “what do you mean by ‘benefits’?” he questions.

“well, we would be kind of like a couple but without a label. we would do couple-y things and be flirty but not actually be together.” you explain.

“yeah that works for me” he responds. you hum in agreement as the two of you finish your food and start to drive back to his.

chris has aux, and he was just playing his shitty rap music as always. “ugh chris c’mon. for once can we listen to something else?” you complain.

“jeez okay” he says, changing it to a frank ocean song. but not any song, no. white ferrari.

you sigh quietly, but keep driving nonetheless. once you arrive at his, you both try to decide what to do.

you settle on ‘how to lose a guy in 10 days’, only because it was your turn to pick.

the movie plays, but you can tell chris isn’t paying attention. you both sit at a respectful distance, but you slightly move closer to him.

he moves closer to you until you’re shoulder to shoulder. he wraps his arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. ‘much better’ you think to yourself.

you smile, knowing that you didn’t lose the love of your life.

tessa’s notes… so sorry for the delay:( a lot has been going on but i promiseee part 8 is much better than this, it’ll be out soon <3

taglist… @emely9274 @baileysturnz @sllutty-sturniolo @chrisspussygang @ivysturnss @evansturn @sturniolosluttt @kisschriss @sheluvsthesturniolos @sparklybtch @mothstvrnz @joanakaulitz @csturnioloswifey @bee-43 @chrissleftshoe @sweetheartsangel @sophand4n4 @sturrrrnslvt @sturnsfavxo @wh0remikasas

comment to be added or removed.

© tessasturns

[notiddygothgf]

ix

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ God, you're messing with my fucking head. ❞

★ c.w.: drunk reader (yikes)

★ a/n: so im lowkey not confident that i did good on that chem exam but shit a promise is a promise.... HERE SHE IS!!!! another update!! and this one??? phew... strap in children, it's a RIDE. i'm not gonna say too much bc im just so excited for you all to read this. I've been bouncing up and down trying not to spoil this one for anyone so pLEAAAAASEEEE!! keep on commenting, liking, supporting, inboxing. I love the community I've built on wattpad and tumblr for this fanfic. I'm so glad you al love it as much as I do!

★ w.c: 9k

pornstar ; chapter index

SOMEWHERE AROUND 2, you sauntered right into Public Safety’s Tokyo HQ feeling your very best. Today was your scutwork day, meaning that you would be spending the day indoors doing whatever work the higher-ups asked of you and, already, you were turning heads.

“Looking good, Kohai,” One of your coworkers whistled at you, a tiny girl by the name of Kawakami who you spoke to frequently in passing.

You smiled at her warmly, letting yourself revel in the compliment. Today, you felt your best because you were wearing your best – A form-fitting white button down top and a pencil skirt that stopped around mid-though. Your hair was done back, and you had touched your face up with some subtle makeup. A little mascara here, to make your eyes pop, and a little red lipstick there. You weren’t stupid. You knew that the skirt did nothing to hide the curves of your ass, the slope of your hips. Actually, that was the entire point.

On a mission day or a patrol day, you knew the outfit wouldn’t have flown. Today was different. Today, you were only doing paperwork.

Paperwork for one man in particular.

You knocked at the door, knuckles rapping against the wooden surface. A moment passed before you heard that cold, impassive voice responding, “Come in.”

Clutching a stack of paperwork Makima had handed you to give to him, you opened the door with your shoulder. There Aki was, dressed in that uniform that hugged his perfect body so well, broody blue eyes trained on a paper packet. When he heard you enter, he looked up at you through his lashes, not fully glancing up from the paperwork – telephone pressed to his ear.

He was so pretty, it hurt.

You smiled at him (kill them with kindness, you figured), making sure to swing your hips a little more as you approached his desk. Then, gently – oh-so gently – you leaned down and set the paperwork onto his desk.

He peered up at you, then, at your done-up face. His gaze seemed to shamelessly roam over your body, the outfit you had specifically picked out with him in mind. For a moment, you could have sworn you saw something in his gaze shift, the slightest dilation of his pupils as they lingered on your legs. 

You couldn’t help but bask in the feeling – the feeling of having his attention on you.

“Excuse me for just a second,” He muttered into the phone. Holding his hand up to cover the receiver, he opened his mouth to speak, and for a moment, a part of you hoped that he would say something about your outfit – tell you to change, tell you anything, “Could you grab me a coffee from the breakroom?”

Oh, you thought. Okay, then.

Pursing your lips, you nodded, bowing slightly as you did so, “Of course.”

As you left Aki’s office, you let out a slow, steady breath, forcing yourself to keep your composure. His gaze—the weight of it lingering on your body—had sent a little thrill through your veins. It was almost pathetic how much you basked in it, how much you ached for the smallest hint of attention from him. Even just the way his eyes had dragged down your legs, the way his pupils had slightly dilated when he caught sight of your lipstick-painted lips, made something coil tight in your chest.

But now wasn’t the time to get lost in the fantasy—you had a task to complete.

The breakroom was empty when you entered, save for the low hum of the refrigerator. You moved toward the coffee machine, grabbing one of the paper cups from the stack and pressing the button to let the dark liquid pour in. The scent of bitter coffee filled the air as you leaned back against the counter, waiting for the cup to fill.

Your reflection in the metal cabinet doors caught your attention. The slight smudge of red at the corner of your lips made you frown. You had spent extra time on your makeup today for a reason—if you were going to play this game, every detail had to be just right.

You reached into your pocket, fingers curling around the smooth, gold casing of your lipstick. Twisting it open, you brought the deep red shade to your lips, carefully gliding it over your mouth. One coat, then another. Just enough to make your lips look fuller, more inviting. You pressed them together, ensuring the color settled perfectly before giving yourself one last glance in the reflection.

Satisfied, you picked up the coffee and left the breakroom.

This time, you didn’t bother knocking. You pushed the door open with your shoulder, stepping inside without hesitation. Aki was exactly where you had left him, hunched over paperwork, his focus unwavering. The warm glow of the desk lamp highlighted the sharp angles of his face—his strong jaw, the shadows beneath his cheekbones, the furrow in his brow as he concentrated.

But the second you approached, his eyes flickered up to meet yours.

Wordlessly, you bent over to set the coffee down on his desk, taking your time, ensuring your posture emphasized the curve of your body. The hem of your pencil skirt rode up just slightly, and you knew—knew—he was watching.

His gaze was on you before you even looked up. And when you finally did, there was something unreadable in his expression. Cool, composed, but something else too.

A hunger.

This tension’s gonna make me go fucking crazy.

You straightened up, smoothing the fabric of your skirt with the palm of your hand. Then, with the sweetest voice you could muster, you asked, “Do you need anything else, sir?”

It was subtle, the shift in his demeanor—but you caught it.

The faintest tension in his jaw. The way his fingers stilled against the paper. His pupils darkening just a shade.

A pause.

“I actually do have some letters I need to write,” he said at last, voice steady but slightly lower than before. “Do you have a minute?”

You nodded, tilting your head slightly, watching him.

He let out a breath, setting his pen down against the desk. “I’m so backed up on paperwork that I don’t think I’ll have the time. I need to write Kenji’s letter of termination.”

Something in your stomach twisted.

“I have a few points written here,” he added, reaching for a small post-it note. “I just need it formatted into something official.”

As he handed it to you, his fingers brushed against yours—just barely, just for a second—but the touch sent a strange shiver down your spine. You peered down at the little paper square, realizing rather suddenly that you had never seen his handwriting before. It was neat, perfect cursive – totally indicative of his personality.

“Do you think you could write up a draft for me?”

You barely heard him. Your mind had already spiraled somewhere else.

Kenji.

The memory hit you in pieces.

The way the world had blurred around the edges that night, your limbs feeling too heavy, too slow. Kenji’s hands—unwanted and rough—pressing against you. The sickening scent of alcohol on his breath as he backed you up against the wall, murmuring filth into your ear.

Your own voice, weak and slurred, as you tried to tell him to stop.

The helplessness.

The burning shame.

And now, standing here, looking at the post-it note with Kenji’s name scribbled on it, you felt something close to satisfaction coil in your chest.

You smiled, slow and sweet. “Of course.”

Taking the note from him, you slid it into the pocket of your skirt, feeling its weight settle against your hip.

“I’ll have it done by the end of the night,” you assured him.

Aki nodded once, already turning back to his work. If he noticed the slight shift in your expression—the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes—he didn’t say anything.

You turned on your heel and walked out, your heartbeat steady, your mind sharp.

You hoped this wouldn’t keep you too late. Himeno had invited you out for drinks tonight, and right about now, you wanted any excuse to get shitfaced that you could get.

Public Safety Bureau – Tokyo HeadquartersMarch 18, 2025Public Safety Devil Hunter, Division [4] Public Safety Bureau – Tokyo Headquarters

Subject: Notice of Termination of Employment

Dear Mr. Aragawa,

After a thorough review of your conduct and performance within the Public Safety Bureau, it has been determined that your employment with this organization is hereby terminated, effective immediately.

This decision has been made on the basis of multiple violations of Bureau policies, including but not limited to:

Insubordination: You have repeatedly failed to comply with direct orders from superior officers, demonstrating a blatant disregard for protocol and chain of command. This behavior has not only hindered operations but has also created unnecessary risks for your colleagues and the organization as a whole.

Assaulting a Coworker: It has been brought to our attention that you engaged in inappropriate and aggressive behavior toward a fellow Bureau employee. A formal investigation into this incident has confirmed that your actions constituted a violation of workplace safety policies, as well as ethical and legal standards upheld by this organization. Such behavior is entirely unacceptable and will not be tolerated within Public Safety.

Given the severity of these infractions, your immediate dismissal has been deemed necessary to uphold the integrity, discipline, and safety of the Bureau and its personnel.

You are required to return all Bureau-issued equipment and credentials to the administrative office by the end of the day. Any outstanding documentation or administrative matters related to your employment will be handled accordingly.

Should you have any questions regarding this decision or require clarification on final procedures, you may contact the Human Resources department.

Sincerely,

Aki HayakawaLieutenant Captain 

Public Safety Bureau – Tokyo Headquarters

At the end of the day, you returned to Aki’s office, the weight of the termination letter settled in your hands. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above, casting a faint glow over the dimly lit office. His desk was as cluttered as ever—papers stacked in uneven piles, a half-empty coffee cup pushed to the side, the faint trace of his cologne lingering in the air.

You ran your fingers along the edge of the document as you approached, eyeing the blank space you’d left for his signature. The words printed on the page felt heavier now, more significant. You weren’t just turning in paperwork. You were handing him something final, something that would erase Kenji from Public Safety for good.

Aki barely looked up as you set the letter on his desk.

“It’s done,” you said, keeping your voice light.

He gave a slow nod, flipping the pages between his fingers, scanning the contents with careful precision. You lingered, watching his expression shift slightly—his brow furrowing, his lips pressing into a thin line. He was always so controlled, so unreadable, but you’d spent enough time around him to know when something was picking at him.

You turned on your heel, ready to leave. But then—

The sound of voice calling your name stopped you in your tracks.

You turned back toward him, feigning innocence. “Yes, sir?”

Aki set the letter down, exhaling through his nose. His fingers tapped once against the desk before he leaned back in his chair, leveling you with a look that was both sharp and exasperated.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know what.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “I’m at least ninety percent sure you’re violating some sort of dress code.”

A slow, amused smile curled at the corner of your lips. “I’m not. My outfit and makeup are in compliance with company policy,” you answered smoothly. “Does it bother you?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the muscle in his jaw tensed.

“That skirt is a bit short, don’t you think?” he muttered.

Gotcha.

You tilted your head, regarding him carefully. His voice was calm, controlled, but there was something else beneath it—something tight, something restrained.

“Are you… staring?” you asked, deliberately teasing, eyes glinting with something dangerous.

His brows pinched together in irritation. “I’m more concerned about other people.”

Is he… jealous?

He took the bait.

A flicker of satisfaction danced through you as he continued, his voice lower now, more serious. “You of all people should know there are some dogs in Public Safety. Men who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of you.”

Oh, he definitely is.

You hummed thoughtfully, stepping just a little closer, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Like you, sir?”

Aki scoffed, rubbing his temple as if you were giving him a headache. “For the love of—” He cut himself off, sighing sharply. “I’m not taking advantage of you. I’m–”

“Protecting me, right. I got that,” you said airily. Then, tilting your head, you added, “I think we both know that’s a bullshit excuse.”

His eyes darkened—not with anger, but with something deeper, something unreadable. He stared at you, unmoving, his fingers still curled slightly on the desk, the weight of his silence settling between you.

You were out of line.

“Don’t start,” he muttered.

“Start what?”

Aki exhaled, his patience thinning. “We’re not having this conversation again.”

You watched as he reached for the letter, his eyes flickering over the words you had carefully typed. His expression remained unreadable as he skimmed it, though you didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed slightly when he reached Kenji’s name. A beat of silence stretched between you.

“Thank you for the letter,” he said at last, his tone clipped, controlled. “You’re dismissed.”

You didn’t argue. You simply gave him a slow, knowing smile, turned on your heel, and–

The sound of his voice made you turn back. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” He spoke – tone firm and commanding, just the way you liked it. When you faced him, he paused, eyes dropping once more to your legs for the briefest of seconds before flitting up to meet your gaze head on. “Don’t wear that skirt to work again.”

You paused, partially shocked that he had been so bold. Then, nodding curtly, you bowed your head, “Of course, sir. It won’t happen again.”

You walked out. And though he tried to pretend otherwise, you felt the weight of his gaze following you all the way to the door.

Still, a little snag of pride curled in your chest because Himeno had been right.

He was jealous.

Later that night, at the izakaya, you were drunk off your ass. This seemed to be a reoccurring theme – something unique to any outing where Himeno was in attendance. She was a bad influence on you, that much was undeniable. Something else was undeniable, too. Namely, the fact that – while she conversed avidly with her partner, Aki, practically leaning on him as she did so – you could do nothing but furrow your brows, pout your lips at her like an insolent child because you couldn’t help but wish that he was giving you his attention instead.

It was a childish whim, you knew. He was an attractive man. He was bound to grab the attention of his female coworkers. Still, you couldn’t help the feeling that bubbled up in your chest, eyes narrowing into slits while you watched them talk. It was something deep, something wrong.

Maybe this is his way of getting back at me, You thought, but you knew that wasn’t the truth. Aki Hayakawa was not a petty person. He would never resort to the same underhanded tactics you had used on him.

Ever the bigger person.

You exhaled, tipping back the last of your drink, the alcohol burning pleasantly down your throat. It did little to wash away the bitter taste on your tongue, the one that had been lingering ever since you sat down at this table and realized you’d made a terrible mistake.

Himeno was draped over Aki, laughing, touching, leaning into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the worst part was that he let her. Not in a way that suggested he wanted it—not quite—but in a way that suggested he was used to it. That this was normal for them.

And maybe it was. Maybe this was just what they did. Maybe you were reading too much into it, letting the alcohol meddle with your thoughts, making everything feel sharper and hazier all at once.

But it didn’t matter.

Because the ugly little thing twisting in your chest wasn’t rational. It wasn’t kind or understanding or patient. It was selfish and petty and burning with something you didn’t want to name.

Jealousy.

The very same jealousy you had mocked him for earlier that day.

Aki hadn’t liked the idea of other men looking at you, but at least he’d said something about it. You’d seen the way his eyes darkened, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the way he practically scolded you for your outfit—an excuse, you were sure, to hide whatever it was he’d really wanted to say.

But now?

Now, you were the one watching him, waiting, hoping for even a flicker of irritation, a sign that he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

And yet, he hadn’t even looked at you once.

It was infuriating.

Maybe you just weren’t being obvious enough.

You turned, shifting your attention to the man beside you—a coworker whose name you couldn’t even remember. He had been sitting quietly, nursing his drink, but that changed the second you leaned into him.

“Hey,” you said, voice sweet, almost lazy.

He blinked, taken aback, before offering a slow grin. “Hey yourself.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh, tilting your head, letting your fingers graze over his sleeve. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

He smirked, pleased by your sudden attention, and opened his mouth to respond—

But you weren’t really listening.

Your focus had already flickered away, drifting toward the only person in the room whose reaction actually mattered.

And—finally—Aki was looking.

Sort of.

His gaze had shifted toward you, lingering on the scene unfolding at the edge of his vision. But that was all it was—an acknowledgment. A passing glance. His brows furrowed slightly, but only for a second, like he was barely bothered by what he was seeing. Then, just as quickly, he turned away, lifting his glass to his lips with maddening indifference.

That was it.

That was all you got.

And it wasn’t enough.

You wanted more.

You wanted him to react—to frown, to scowl, to say something, anything. You wanted him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, to tighten his grip on his drink, to mutter something under his breath about how you were being ridiculous. You wanted him to feel the same frustration you had been choking on all night.

But he didn’t.

Aki remained calm, collected, utterly unreadable, and the realization made something bitter settle in your throat.

The alcohol was making you reckless, but not reckless enough to ignore how utterly disappointing this was.

You let out a slow, measured exhale, fingers tightening around the glass in your hand. The man beside you was still talking, still smiling, completely unaware that your attention had long since drifted elsewhere.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Maybe this was stupid.

Maybe you were being stupid.

You were drunk. You knew that. You knew that the swirling mess of emotions in your head—frustration, jealousy, need—was amplified by the alcohol. You knew that tomorrow, when the hangover settled in and the memories came flooding back, you’d probably feel embarrassed about all of this.

And yet—

You still weren’t ready to let it go.

So you pushed further.

You leaned in just a little closer, your arm grazing against the man beside you. His cologne was faint but clung to the air—a mix of cheap and familiar. He didn’t seem to mind that you didn’t pull away, his grin widening as you lingered.

“So,” he said, swirling the last of his drink in his glass, “You from around here?”

You hummed, tilting your head as though you were thinking over the answer, though the truth was that it didn’t matter what you said. You already knew exactly what you would tell him. It wasn’t about him. You’d known that from the start.

“We work in the same department,” you replied, teasing lilt in your voice. “Of course I am. You?”

He chuckled, shifting slightly, leaning in a little. “Same. Though I guess that’s obvious, huh? You ever wonder how many of us there are? Feels like I’m always running into new faces.”

The conversation was easy. Too easy. And yet, you weren’t truly engaged with it.

You weren’t really listening to him.

Instead, your attention was fixed on something—or, more accurately, someone—across the table.

Aki sat there, an ocean of composure in the sea of chaos. Himeno spoke animatedly, her voice carrying a lightness you weren’t sure was entirely genuine. Her hand rested casually on his arm, her body language telling the world just how close they were. Aki nodded here and there, responding in short, deliberate sentences. But his eyes, his gaze, stayed mostly on his drink. He was always so careful. Always so deliberate.

Too deliberate.

You could feel the flicker of something in your chest—something hot, something sharp, something you couldn’t quite name. Your eyes narrowed, just a touch, though you kept the smile on your face, turning your attention back to the man beside you.

His voice was too loud, too eager, trying to fill the empty space. “So, you been with Public Safety long?”

“Couple of weeks now,” he said, shifting closer as though to make sure his proximity was noticed. “You?”

You nodded, but didn’t answer right away. Your fingers slid absently over the rim of your empty glass. “Long enough.”

His smile widened, like he thought he was winning some unspoken game. “Long enough for what?”

“To realize the job’s a nightmare.” You grinned at him, playful but cynical.

He laughed, a short chuckle that was surprisingly genuine. “That’s the truth.”

You hummed, allowing him to believe it was an engaging conversation. In truth, it wasn’t. It was nothing more than a distraction. Because your attention was elsewhere, on Aki, on the way his posture never shifted, even as Himeno leaned in closer, whispering something in his ear.

Another glance. Aki’s eyes flicked briefly over to you. Just a moment. Just enough to notice.

You felt a subtle flicker in your chest, something light, almost like anticipation. But you forced yourself to smile and turn back to your companion.

“So tell me,” you said, keeping the air of intrigue in your voice, “what made you join Public Safety?”

He sighed, leaning in slightly, his posture casual, like he was finally getting comfortable. “That’s a long story. You sure you wanna hear it?”

You tilted your head, feigning genuine interest. “Absolutely.”

His voice dropped lower, the words coming more slowly now, like he thought this would be the part where he finally had you hooked. You smiled faintly, but your attention wasn’t on him. It wasn’t on anything he was saying.

Across the table, Aki glanced at you again.

This time, it wasn’t subtle. His eyes lingered longer than the brief flicker from before. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react outwardly. He just looked. And you, ever the observer, couldn’t help but notice.

That was all. Nothing else.

You couldn’t decide whether it was enough or not. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe you were just too drunk to care about the subtleties anymore. Maybe you wanted more than just a glance. Maybe you wanted something real. Something tangible.

But instead, you just returned to the conversation, nodding in all the right places. Your fingers traced the edge of your glass absentmindedly.

“—and that’s when I realized,” your coworker continued, “I might as well get paid to fight devils if I’m gonna be doing it anyway, right?”

You laughed, keeping your voice light, your eyes flicking to the side once again. Aki was still watching, still observing, but he didn’t say a word.

The silence in his gaze was louder than any words could have been.

You exhaled softly, almost wistfully, as if you were letting go of something, though you weren’t entirely sure what that was.

Another glance, but this time, there was something more to it. Aki’s expression hadn’t changed, but there was something in the way his gaze softened just a fraction, like he was finally, maybe, letting his guard down just the tiniest bit.

But was that even real?

You weren’t sure anymore.

Your fingers tapped against the table, absentmindedly now, your irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

This wasn’t how you wanted things to go.

You wanted more. You wanted Aki to act like you were the one who mattered. But he didn’t. And the longer you played this game, the more it felt like you were just losing. Losing in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

You didn’t know when it happened—when the conversation with your coworker became a blur of empty words—but you found yourself restless, uncomfortable in a way you couldn’t shake. The alcohol wasn’t helping anymore. It wasn’t softening the edges of your frustration.

You looked over at Aki one last time.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

Instead, he was focused on his drink, his face unreadable.

That was it. You were done.

You exhaled, slow and heavy, then stood up abruptly. The movement was sharp, too quick, as if you were trying to shake off the weight that had settled on your chest.

“Excuse me,” you muttered, keeping your tone neutral, though it was nothing but forced.

Your coworker blinked up at you, surprise flashing across his features. “Everything okay?”

You didn’t grace him with a response, instead, you stumbled onto your two feet, ignoring the way the room spun around you. You had decided that you were going to give him a piece of your mind. Yeah, you were going to walk up to him, get all up in his stupid face and tell him exactly how much of an asshole he was. You didn’t care if it was messy. You just… hated looking at his stupid, pretty mug.

Walking over to his side of the table took a great deal of effort. You plopped yourself right down into the empty space right next to him, at the edge of the table. Slowly, he turned to look at you, as if he was about to ask you again, in that rough voice of his, “What the hell are you doing?”

But the words never came. The words never came out, and neither did yours.

Instead, drunken brain figuring actions spoke louder than words, you grabbed him by the collar with a sudden surge of confidence. Then, not giving a rat’s ass who was watching, you had your second drunk incident.

You kissed him. In front of all of your coworkers.

It was messy, frantic, like the last piece of something that had been building up inside of you for far too long. You didn’t know how it happened or why, but there you were, lips pressing desperately against his. Your body swayed with the motion, the alcohol dulling your senses, but there was an overwhelming, irrational clarity in that kiss. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the slight stiffening of his muscles, the way his body went rigid under your touch.

For a moment, everything else ceased to exist.

Then, just as suddenly, Aki pulled away, breaking the kiss with a sharpness that felt too harsh. His eyes were wide, still locked onto you, his lips parted in shock, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

Your heart skipped a beat, and something cold slithered through you.

What had you done?

His silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. The room felt quieter than it had been just moments ago, every noise around you now distorted, as if everything had slowed down just to give you this moment of pure, unrelenting humiliation.

Aki didn’t say anything. He didn’t even flinch, but there was something in his gaze that you couldn’t quite place—something almost… horrified?

No, that wasn’t it.

The silence dragged on until Denji’s voice cut through it, sharp and mocking. “You’re getting just as bad as Himeno,” he said, his grin wide and unrepentant.

Everyone else in the room laughed, the sound of their amusement stabbing through you, making your stomach churn. It should’ve been funny. It should’ve been easy to brush off, but the only thing that mattered was the look in Aki’s eyes.

He wasn’t laughing.

You glanced at him, eyes searching for any hint of reaction, but his expression was unreadable. His gaze was fixed on you, his lips pressed together in a tight line. The others may have been caught up in the moment, but Aki wasn’t. He was staring at you, like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.

Your pulse quickened, and the weight of the room’s laughter pressed down on you. Your head spun. What was happening to you?

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the embarrassment crawling under your skin like a thousand tiny needles. You had hoped for a reaction—hell, you were practically begging for one—but not like this.

You stumbled to your feet again, unsteady but determined to get away from the sharp gaze that had pinned you in place. You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t stand the weight of his stare anymore. You needed to run away.

“I… I’ll be right back,” you muttered, the words slurring just slightly as you turned away, trying to make your escape. “Excuse me.”

You didn’t wait for anyone to respond. You didn’t care if they did. You just had to get out of there.

As you walked away, your vision blurred again, but you didn’t stop. You stumbled towards the bathroom, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears louder than any of the laughter behind you. You didn’t dare look back.

The alcohol had made you bold. It had made you reckless.

But it had also made you stupid.

And as you pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you’d just done.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

You stopped just inside, pressing your palms to the cool tile of the wall. The rush of alcohol was still clouding your thoughts, but now there was a terrible clarity. You'd just kissed Aki. In front of everyone. In front of all your coworkers. And now... now you were alone with the knowledge of how utterly stupid you had been.

What the fuck? You repeated the thought over and over in your head as you began to pace back and forth in the small, confined space. It was like your body was moving faster than your brain, instinctively trying to outrun the tidal wave of embarrassment and regret crashing through you. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or—hell, throw something. But no, instead, you just walked in circles, repeating the same mistake over and over in your head, each thought making the room spin more and more.

What the hell had possessed you? You weren’t like this. You didn’t act out. You didn’t make reckless decisions without thinking, not like this, not in a way that could ruin everything. But somehow, in the heat of that moment, everything felt like it had blurred. You were drunk, yes, but there was something else—a need, a want, an impulse that you couldn’t control.

You stopped pacing for a second, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your lipstick had smeared, probably from when he pulled away. You didn’t even care to fix it. The dark circles under your eyes seemed more pronounced now, the weight of your own humiliation pressing down on you. You looked... stupid. Weak. You had no idea what was running through his head.

Just as you were about to slap yourself for being so fucking reckless, you heard a faint knock at the door. The sound echoed in the silence of the room, jarring, like a warning. You froze, the tension building in your chest, your heart hammering as you realized someone else might be there.

“Occupied!” You didn’t mean to snap, but you couldn’t help it. Your voice came out shaky, uneven, as though you were bracing yourself for some kind of confrontation. The last thing you wanted was to be disturbed.

But then, to your horror, the door swung open anyway.

You looked up in disbelief, ready to shout at whoever dared to enter, but the words died in your throat when you saw who it was.

Aki.

His presence seemed to swallow the space, every inch of the air between you two thick with something unspoken. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and the sound reverberated, amplifying the sudden quiet. His eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable. You stared at him for a long moment, the reality of your actions setting in like ice water over your body. What the hell was he doing here? Why wasn’t he angry?

You expected him to yell, to storm in and tell you how stupid you were, how you’d embarrassed him in front of everyone. You expected him to scold you, to say something, anything. But he didn’t.

Instead, he just stood there, his gaze unwavering. His mouth parted slightly, as if he was about to say something. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing with a barely contained intensity. But he said nothing. He just stared.

And you, frozen in place, could do nothing but stare back.

It felt like the world had shifted. All the noise outside the bathroom seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing in this charged silence. For a second, you thought you might be able to breathe again, to say something. Apologize, maybe. Tell him you didn’t mean it, that the alcohol had made you do something foolish. But before you could even open your mouth, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

His presence enveloped you, too close now, and just as your breath caught in your throat, he kissed you again.

His lips were firm, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether to melt into it or push him away. But then it didn’t matter. You were weak all over again. Everything you had been trying to suppress, all those feelings that had been brewing between you two, came rushing to the surface in that one moment. The kiss was raw, intense, but it wasn’t angry—it was something else. Something neither of you had the words for.

And before you could fully register what was happening, he pulled away.

His eyes were half-lidded, his breath coming in sharp pants as he looked down at you. There was a flicker of something in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t the reproach you’d expected. It was more like confusion, or maybe frustration. His brows furrowed, and he let out a small sigh, as if trying to gather his thoughts.

“God, you’re messing with my fucking head,” he muttered, his voice low, thick with tension. It wasn’t a reprimand, but it felt like a confession. And in the silence that followed, you could hear the weight of everything that wasn’t being said.

You stood there, your heart still racing, the taste of him lingering on your lips, feeling like an idiot. It wasn’t just your body that had betrayed you—it was your mind, too. You had no idea what had made you do it, but now there he was, standing right in front of you, and all you could do was look at him.

You wanted to say something—apologize, maybe. Tell him that you didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, but the words were stuck in your throat. You wanted to say something that would make it all better, but everything you could think of felt hollow in comparison to what had just happened.

And as you stood there, breathless and still, you realized that you couldn’t take back what had just occurred. Not now, not ever.

You both stood there in that space, caught between the tension and the confusion. You had no idea where to go from here.

“I’m messing… with your head?” You slurred, suddenly rather dizzy from the lack of space between you and him. “You’re messing with my fucking head.”

He shook his head, like you couldn’t possibly grasp the depth of what he was telling you, “I’m trying to stay away from you. I’m trying to push you away, but you just… you make it so fucking hard, do you know that?”

You nearly burst into laughter at that. Here he goes again with that heroic bullshit. “Hard to do the right thing?” You teased, voice dropping an octave to mimic him. “Aki, you need to let loose a little. Seriously.”

He sighed, shoulders dropping, leaning into the place where your hand cradled his face like he couldn’t resist. Like he hadn’t been touched so tenderly in his entire life. “I can’t.”

Of course not. You thought. Who else is going to make the decisions for everybody else?

Maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit. Being a captain seemed stressful. You couldn’t imagine having to bear the cross of constant righteousness, let alone the way he did – flawlessly, without a crack in his exterior…

Until now.

“Maybe not, but I think you can allow yourself this one thing. Who cares about the power dynamic when we’re in uniform?” You replied easily, with a smile. 

“Allow myself to indulge in you, you mean,” He retorted, but his tone lacked any bite. Half of a smile rested upon his lips, eyes peering down at you through long, pretty lashes.

Truthfully speaking, he was breathtaking – tired blue eyes gazing into yours, desire replacing what had once been a burning hatred, lips just barely parted around a trembling breath. He looked uncertain and, frankly, drunk.

That was never good news for the two of you.

“Sure,” You shrugged anyway, even though you knew you didn’t even believe the words coming out of your mouth, “What’s the harm in a little fun?”

There was plenty of harm in it, especially when he wasn’t just some faceless hookup. He was the sole occupant of your thoughts, your spirit, your dreams. He was like an obsession, something that (clearly) made you behave rather stupidly. He was dangerous. That much, you knew.

But, standing nearly a foot shorter than him, you couldn’t think about that now. All you could think about was how goddamn pretty he looked beneath the dim, flickering light of the seedy bathroom, fluorescent rays casting shadows over his face, making him look older, somehow.

You could drown in him, you thought. 

“It won’t just be a little fun,” He remarked. “I’m not a half-ass kind of guy. If you want me, you’re gonna get all of me. I don’t do casual sex, that’s the problem.”

I like the sound of that, the dirtier, more depraved part of you thought, but you quickly pushed it down. 

Your hand dropped down to brace itself on his chest, on the hard planes of his pectorals. His much larger one slid up to your jaw, cupping your face oh-so-gently. Then, slowly, his thumb caught on your lower lip, tugging it down ever so slightly, as if testing the waters.

“I want all of you,” You replied. “The good, the bad, whatever the fuck else you got going on. Not like there’s anything casual about this, anyway.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” He huffed out a tipsy little laugh, pressing his forehead up against yours. He was close, now – so close that you were dizzy from the scent of him, the beer on his breath, the mint, the nicotine, the cologne. 

He’s still putting that damn wall up.

“Why are you always so worried about protecting everyone else? You’re allowed to enjoy things, even if they might not… hic… be the best idea,” You replied, desperate to get him to open up and let you in for once. You were so close, you could almost taste it.

“So you admit that this is a bad idea?” He answered back, the faintest hint of a smile lingering on his pink lips.

“Very much so. We’re coworkers. You’re my supervisor, and we couldn’t exactly be anything more than more-than-friends,” You breathed out as he leaned in a little closer. Up this close, his nose just barely brushed against the tip of yours. “But I’m a big girl. I’ve done my research. I know exactly what I’m saying,” A pause, during which you exhaled, and then you added, “I meant what I said… I want you to let me have all of you. Everything that you can give me.”

It was true. Every single last word of it – you were desperate for any part of him you could get. If that excluded his heart, then, well, you would do your best to keep your own out of it. 

These sorts of things only ever led to disaster, you knew that.

But you figured you would spend the rest of your life wishing you hadn’t than wishing you had.

“What if…”  He exhaled slowly, like it pained him to do so. “What if things get complicated? You know we can’t really be together, right? And we would have to keep whatever the hell this is a secret?”

“We can cross that bridge when we get there,” You retorted. “I like to think I’m pretty good at keeping secrets. I promise it won’t get in the way of work, or anything else. Just…” You tightened your grasp around the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up into white layers in your fist, “Let me have you. Who cares about doing the right thing? Not like we’re going to Heaven, anyway, right?”

“You hated me a few weeks ago, and now you’re begging for me. You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?” He tilted his head. There was a humorous lilt to his words, one that told you that he wasn’t entirely as repulsed by the idea of pursuing a sexual relationship with you as you had originally thought. “What if one of us develops feelings? And what if we were found out? What would everyone else think? It would be your honor on the line.”

He looked so kissable right now, eyes trained on yours in that very unique way of his – the one that made you breathless. Gently, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, leaning into him (and not just because you were drunk).

“Fuck what everyone else thinks,” You teased, bringing your faces that much closer together. “I want you, Aki.” Then, trailing a finger down his chest, catching on a button before continuing down, you added, “Let me have you. Who cares about how long it’ll last if we enjoy it, right?”

Aki exhaled sharply, his breath warm against your lips, so close it made your stomach twist into knots. His fingers, rough and calloused, tightened around your jaw—firm, grounding, as if he were trying to memorize the shape of you before he inevitably did something he couldn’t take back. His eyes flickered down to your lips, hesitation warring with need, and for a moment, you thought he was going to pull away.

Then, like a breaking dam, he gave in.

His lips crashed against yours, desperate, consuming, like he had been starving for this and couldn’t stand another second without tasting you. The sheer force of it sent your back colliding with the wall behind you, a breathless gasp slipping from your mouth at the sudden contact. You barely registered the discomfort—all you could focus on was him. Aki, pressing against you, his body flush against yours, his scent overwhelming your senses.

Mint. Smoke. The faintest trace of cologne.

You could have drowned in it. In him.

His mouth was hot, demanding, moving against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak. You didn’t even realize you had grabbed at him until your fingers were tangled in the crisp white fabric of his shirt, fisting it, holding on like you might fall apart without him. And maybe you would. Maybe you already were.

A soft sound escaped you—something caught between a sigh and a whimper—and it made him kiss you harder. His grip tightened at your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your uniform, branding you, like he wanted to leave a mark. A reminder. The thought sent a thrill down your spine.

Aki kissed like he fought—intense, calculated, like he was putting every last piece of himself into it. And fuck, it was intoxicating. The way his lips moved with such precision, the way his hands gripped you like he needed you. Like you were something vital.

For a moment, you let yourself believe it.

Then, just as suddenly as he started, he pulled away.

You didn’t even realize you were chasing after him until your lips brushed against empty air, a quiet little noise of protest slipping from your throat. You blinked up at him, dazed, drunk off him. His forehead rested against yours, his breaths uneven, ragged, his hands still clinging to your waist like he didn’t trust himself to let go completely.

He looked at you, blue eyes blown wide, pupils dark with something dangerous, something that made your chest feel tight.

“Okay,” he exhaled, voice rough, strained. His grip on you flexed, like he was solidifying this decision for himself. “I’m in.”

For a split second, you didn’t register it.

Then, you laughed—a breathless, triumphant thing, relief and something far more wicked curling through your veins. Without thinking, you surged forward, capturing his lips again, this time with even more force.

It was messy, a little reckless, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel him, wanted to take as much as he was willing to give. And for once, Aki didn’t hesitate. His hands found your hips again, pulling you impossibly close, pressing you against the wall like he never wanted to let you go. You hummed into his mouth, satisfaction curling through you like a slow burn, threading through your veins like fire.

He was yours.

At least, for now.

That thought lingered, cold and sharp, somewhere in the back of your mind.

No feelings. No attachments.

You should have been relieved. You should have felt free.

Instead, the words settled in your chest like a warning, like an inevitability you were too far gone to stop.

Back at the table, you forced yourself to smile, laughing at something Himeno said, acting like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t just had Aki pressed against you in the bathroom, his lips hot and desperate against yours, his hands gripping you like he never wanted to let go. Like you hadn’t been the one to pull him back in when he hesitated. Like your heartbeat wasn’t still pounding in your throat, your body still thrumming with the imprint of him.

You took a sip of your drink, letting the alcohol burn away the taste of him.

Himeno leaned in, her eyes glinting with something sly, something that made your stomach tighten. “So,” she drawled, her chin propped in her hand, “that was some kiss back at the table earlier.” A slow smirk curled at her lips. “And you two took an awfully long time to come back.”

Your fingers tightened around your glass. You kept your expression even, casual. Normal.

“We were talking about it,” you said smoothly, swirling the drink in your hand. “It was a mistake. He was telling me all about… uh, like—policies and shit, and how it can never happen again. You know, the whole nine yards.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He had said all that. Right before you kissed him again.

Himeno tilted her head, eyeing you with lazy amusement. “I thought you hated him.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m drunk, Himeno. I kissed you. Doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

“Right,” she hummed, but there was something unreadable in her gaze. Like she wasn’t entirely convinced.

You exhaled through your nose, forcing a laugh, leaning in just enough to nudge her arm. “You’re in no position to talk, Miss I’ve-Kissed-Everyone-in-Public-Safety.”

That finally made her snort, but the sharp edge in her expression didn’t fade. She twirled the straw in her drink, eyes flicking to you, then past you, like she was putting something together.

“Never Aki,” she murmured, almost like an afterthought. But her voice had gone quieter, more thoughtful. Her fingers traced absent patterns against the rim of her glass. “He’s a total hardass. I’m surprised he let you.”

Something in your stomach lurched. You swallowed it down.

Her gaze flicked up, meeting yours again, sharper this time. “He’s not the mystery guy, is he?”

You laughed—too quick, too dismissive. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Himeno exhaled, dragging her thumb across the condensation on her glass. She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t press it. Just hummed and shook her head, taking another slow sip. “No, you’re right,” she mused. “You guys are total opposites. That would never work.”

She was drinking more now, fingers gripping her glass a little too tightly.

You should’ve felt relieved. Should’ve let the conversation die right there. But your heart was still pounding, your skin still warm where Aki had touched you, and the lie sat heavy in your chest, weighing you down.

Then, your phone buzzed against the table.

You glanced down.

A text from him. You flipped the small device open, scanning the message – the first message you had ever received from him.

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: I think you’ve had enough to drink.

Typing…

YOU: Says who?

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: The guy watching you sway back and forth like you’re about to pass out.

You blinked, glancing up across the table. Aki wasn’t looking at you—at least, not directly. His posture was the same as always, stiff, unreadable, his attention seemingly on his own drink. But you knew better. Knew he’d been watching, keeping track, the way he always did.

Your lips curled slightly, fingers moving before you could think better of it.

YOU: Guilty. Would you carry me back to my apartment again if I did?

This time, he hesitated. You could picture him, jaw tightening, eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the screen, debating whether or not to indulge you with a response.

You watched him carefully, waiting, your heart hammering just a little too hard against your ribs.

Then, his phone lit up in his hand. His fingers moved.

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: Put the beer down.

Something in you wavered.

You stared at the words, at the quiet command laced in them, at the way your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your fingers tightened around your glass, your grip faltering, indecisive.

Then, slowly, you set the beer down.

You hesitated, only for a second—but the strangest part was that you wanted to obey. Some deep, inexplicable part of you wanted to listen to him, to let him take control, to let him look after you the way he always did.

Even if he never should have. Even if this—whatever this was—couldn’t happen again.

Across the table, Aki’s gaze flickered up, just for a second. Then, your phone buzzed with another message.

CAPTAIN HAYAKAWA: Good girl.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Heat spread through you, slow and dizzying, pooling low in your stomach. You blinked down at the words, pulse hammering behind your ribs. The praise, so simple, so quiet— it got to you. The worst part was that he had to know it would. Had to know what he was doing when he sent it.

Your fingers curled around the device, clutching it tightly in your lap as something restless, something dangerous coiled in your chest. You felt hot—too hot. Like you needed to down the rest of your drink just to cool the sudden heat rising up your spine.

A slow, unbidden smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Himeno leaned over, peering at you with mild curiosity. “What are you smiling at?”

You blinked, barely even realizing you had been. Quickly, you forced the expression away, snapping the phone shut with a practiced ease.

“Nothing,” you said smoothly, forcing a small laugh, tilting your head like you weren’t completely unraveling on the inside. “I just saw something funny.”

Himeno hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t press.

You exhaled, reaching for your drink on instinct—then, at the last second, you hesitated. Your fingers ghosted over the glass but didn’t lift it. Aki’s words still lingered in your mind, simmering.

You glanced up.

And met his gaze.

It was fleeting, just a second—but in that second, everything tightened. The air between you stretched thin, charged with something neither of you could acknowledge, something too dangerous to name. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—sharp, unwavering—held yours like a quiet reminder. Like a challenge.

Your pulse skipped.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you smiled. Small. Subtle. Something just for him.

Aki didn’t react, not at first. But you caught it—the way his fingers curled just slightly against the table, the way his throat bobbed as he exhaled slow and steady through his nose.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, feigning nonchalance, letting the movement ground you.

Then, with a flick of your gaze, you turned back to Himeno—acting as if nothing had happened at all.

a/n: a win is a win. IDC WHAT YALL SAY A WIN IS A WIN!!!! lmk ur thoughtssss ur wantsss, yk the drill. i'm a whore for validation so i'll probably do it!!!!!

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @mrshayakawaa, @xxpr3ttyk173rxx

wanna join the taglist? | pornstar ; chapter index

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"DON'T CRY, BABY"

I JUST WROTE ONE OF THE CUTEST FICS WITH BUCKY I'VE EVER WRITTEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

I hope you like it! 💙

The first time he saw you, Bucky thought you were a mirage, since it was impossible for him that someone as perfect as you existed.

You were always kind to others, offering to help whenever you could, and when someone felt depressed and weak, you were the one who cheered them up and gave them the strength to keep going.

You had arrived at Avengers Tower a few weeks ago, but that didn't stop the super soldier from noticing you more than usual.

You couldn't say you hadn't noticed him too. Since your arrival, the quiet man with the mysterious aura and metallic arm had caught your attention.

You didn't know anything about him, only that he was the captain's best friend, so at first you were shocked to see that one of his arms was made entirely of metal.

As the weeks passed, you got used to it and realized you had nothing to fear.

Steve explained his story and the reason why one of his arms was metallic, and you automatically empathized with him and his story.

You didn't have a metal arm, but several scientists had experimented on you until you had the "abilities" you currently possessed.

You knew perfectly well what it was like to feel used and discarded, like a broken toy that no longer served the purpose for which it was made in the first place.

"You should talk to him," Steve commented one day while talking to you, gesturing to where his friend was leaning against the tower railing.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you murmured timidly. "I don't think he'll like me"

"That's impossible," Rogers smiled. "You're the kindest person I know," he encouraged you. "I'm sure he'll like you." He shrugged. "He might be a little cold at first, but once you break through that barrier, there's a man worth getting to know."

"Since when did you become so poetic?" —you asked, laughing. He tilted his head toward you, mimicking your gesture-

“Sam recommended I read Shakespeare,” he laughed. “I think it's affected me more than it should have.” He nodded toward his friend. “Go on, everything will be okay.”

“Promise?” you asked nervously. He nodded reassuringly.

“I promise,” he smiled as he affectionately ruffled your hair. “Go on, go.”

You took a few deep breaths and walked over to him. You slowly stood beside him, causing him to turn his head to look at you.

You were wearing a black short-sleeved t-shirt and worn jeans. Bucky thought he'd never seen anyone look so handsome in such basic clothes.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hi,” he answered, looking at you. “Something wrong?”

"No, it's just…" you swallowed hard. "Steve told me to talk to you."

"Of course he did," the dark-haired man laughed. "About something in particular?"

"No, just…talking."

"Okay."

"Okay."

You were silent for a few moments before you broke the silence.

"Steve told me your story," you began cautiously. "I wanted to tell you that I completely understand everything you've been through, and… if you want… you can talk to me whenever you need to"

He gave a grateful smile, leaning against the railing with his metal arm, the one you couldn't stop staring at.

"Thanks, Y/N," he whispered. It was the first time he'd called you by your name. "I don't mean to be inconsiderate or anything, but how could you possibly know what I went through?"

"Because I…" you swallowed hard before continuing. It was always hard to talk about that—because they put my brain in the blender too

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise.

Until now, no one had been found who had gone through what he had, and the fact that it was you filled him with rage, as he wanted to personally take it upon himself to kill everyone who had ever laid a hand on you.

He waited patiently for you to continue your story. After a few seconds, you did.

"My mother had a rare disease," you continued. "They said it was incurable. From the day she was diagnosed, I did everything I could to find a cure, an antidote, something that could save her life." You paused. "Until some doctors contacted me." They said I was special and that they knew what my mother was going through, and they wanted to run some tests on me because they thought they could find the cure for her illness in me," you took a deep breath, "so I agreed. They ran several tests on me, some so painful that I can still feel it today," you confessed. "In the end, they didn't find a cure. It was all a lie. All they wanted was a guinea pig to test all their macabre research on a single subject, me," you whispered. "After that, my mother died three months after the diagnosis, just as the doctor had predicted."

Bucky was so shocked he didn't know what to say next. He would never have imagined that someone like you had gone through such a painful situation.

"What happened to the doctors?" he asked softly.

"They won't ruin anyone else's life again," you growled, and that was enough answer for the super soldier.

"I'm so sorry for everything you had to go through, doll," he murmured. Your eyes filled with tears as all the memories of those years came flooding back, making Bucky's heart slam in his chest. "Oh baby, don't cry," he whispered, opening his arms. "Come here."

He took you in his arms, and you rested your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of leather and metal that oozed from the pores of his skin.

You felt him massage your hair in a constant motion up and down your back, slowly calming you.

-Shhh, calm down, I'm here, - he reminded you, placing his other arm on your waist to bring you closer to him. - I'm here, - he repeated in your ear. - No one will ever hurt you again.

-Thank you, - you murmured, your voice broken by tears before slowly separating from him. - I'm sorry… I didn't mean to get like that… it's just that…

-It's okay, doll, I got you - he whispered, hugging you again. - Always

[pricesprincess]

hello! I debated on making this post but I didn't want to leave people in the dark plus I didn't think a lot of people would care if I dipped or anything to be honest. I am going to extend my writing hiatus longer, thought I was ready to come back and all I did was disappoint myself.

I'm getting back into anime, JJK more like, Toji and Shiu as my number ones lmaoo and if anyone knew me before this blog knew I was all about them and I still am lmaooo also still about John too.

and I promised myself I would never write for the anime fandom but that could change who knows? and truthfully, the lack of comments and interaction in general has beaten me down along with my own self-sabotage and honestly maybe I'm going through a really bad writing block/slump THAT IS NOT HELPING! idk but I will be around to maybe post and reblog things!!

I appreciate everyone so much, and I really do hope I can get to the point where I feel excited in sharing my writing! I love you all <3

[oforchestralsteel]

“I never said you did. This is…-I am continuing misunderstandings left and right. “To me, that day, we were speaking like normal. And I was asked, time and time, to clarify small compliments. I am not faulting you, I was the one making such comments. That is on me and for that I am sorry. But it felt as though I was pushed into speaking about these feelings. I never said I wanted anything in return from you, expected any return from you, anything of anything right now or ever. I know you are going through more than anyone could possibly understand. That is why I never thought to ever tell you of these feelings. For me, they felt pulled out.

“Then, from my perspective, just after I told you how I felt, and again- this feeling of it being pulled out of me, your first response is to ask me if we should want distance between us. I now understand you were trying to be kind to my feelings and I am truly, truly sorry for misinterpreting such words. However, can you see how I thought that you wanted the distance?"

Attics saw her movement. He didn't yet match it, but nor did he back away like he promised himself he would if she ever got close to him. Rationally, he knew he should stop this. But once more that small hope of indulgence kept him close to her. “No part of me expected you to become involved with me. Not right now, not ever. On top of all of the others, I sincerely and fully apologize if I insinuated any such ideas. That was not my intent. None of this ever was. My intention has and always will be your comfort, your stability, your heart- your everything.

"We cannot get involved with each other. I fully and completely understand that,. Josephine. I do. It is something I've made peace with."

Josephine shook her head as Atticus continued. Had she really been that unclear?

"You completely misunderstood me, Atticus!" Josephine cried. "I didn't tell you that I did not feel the same way! That is not what I said!" And she hated that, that was what he had thought she'd said. "I asked if you wanted space because you told me that it was hard to be around me! I thought it was what you wanted."

She took a deep breath before she spoke again, "My entire world was changed over night. My father only died a matter of months ago." Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she did what she could to blink them away. "I didn't tell you that I did not feel the same way as you. I told you that I couldn't do it right now!" She sighed. "Everything has changed. My entire life. I can't have something else change at this moment."

Josephine took a step towards Atticus, wincing a little as she put weight on her bad ankle, "My sisters need me. My mother needs me. And if I let myself get wrapped up with you ... I will think of nothing else. You would consume my every thought. And I can't afford that right now."

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I have officially fulfilled all my adult responsibilities, and until I get a job, I can now fully focus on writing fic again. Something I haven't been able to do in years. That said, my rough goals are to update all of the following:

Pas de Deux Technicality (updated) Sticky Sweet Penumbra Out of the Shadows

Not necessarily in that order, but, that's the plan! If anyone wanted to help further these goals by leaving a comment on any of these fics about what they liked or are excited to see in the coming chapters, it would ofc be appreciated.

[gynii]

@hey-omi got me into aftg last semester and i made this for them as part of an art trade last month! so now yall get to see it :)

[hijinxinprogress]

12 year old tim realizing robin’s not coming back to gotham and deciding that it’s Batman’s fault so he has to ruin the little bit of sanity and peace of mind Bruce has managed (read: struggled) to keep in his grasp:

[secretxxpaladaiseu]

Lucy was completely silent while he had made the tea, even when the others made comments. His focus was entirely on this little process of his, which would explain why he seemed so defensive and proud earlier. Not to mention his frustration at the tea pot's dusty state. There was a lot of care and attention paid to the process, and his ego only grew a few more inches as it was praised.

"Well, I wouldn't mind dressing up in a maid outfit. My legs are quite pretty to look at, even if /someone/ felt the need to try and destroy them." A playful, dramatic huff left his lips as he leaned against the counter, watching the men enjoy what he had created. "I promise you, the tea is no aphrodisiac. I don't keep those ingredients on hand, though I do back at my tea house. It's not poison, either. Again, I don't keep that on hand. Besides, I'm not even sure if I have the right poison at my tea house either for a vampire or two...I might, though. It's been ages since I've needed it. It might have even lost it's potency by now, which is even worse than not having it to begin with..." He became lost in his thoughts momentarily before the comment before about Dahmer rang through his head.

"...Well, I won't use my own fingers, but I do make special dumplings. I could make some soup dumplings for you boys, if you're really looking for that. Not for free, though. I have a business I operate, and I can't do that for free. Especially not with that ingredient." It was almost as if the man became more twisted the more he spoke, though he didn't make any attempts to hide or cover it. At least not in front of his captors. After all, they didn't seem shocked in the least about anything more than the taste of his tea.

"I could become a personal chef of sorts, but...Again, I have to be paid well. Either in upkeep, or cash, but you'll have to pay." Now the offer was made more seriously, with Lucy leaning even more against the counter as if trying to get closer to the two. "Think of the benefits! This tea, delicious food, and best of all, me walking around. Doesn't that sound lovely?" Wasn't he originally brought here because /he/ owed /them/ money? But now he was talking about getting paid, with no suggestion of repayment. He wouldn't work to repay his debt, if he could talk his way out of it. Something he was very used to doing.

@anemia-rp

"Ain't a need to tell us", Jake claimed casually and Fuji, who joined them now, with his lips still as red as a ripe apple thanks to the - delicious - blood, nodded as well. "Absolutely. I've got a weapon in every room of my apartment. And sleep with a knife even. So yeah, I can absolutely comprehend your thinking."

So there was a certain power balance existing between them. Lucy wasn't a helpless victim, other than Fuji assumed originally as he mostly did see people as inferior to him - what probably stemmed from his past where he had felt inferior towards everyone himself. A coping mechanism in a way. Seeing people as equal - difficult for him. Something that was earned. Jake was probably the only person he saw as a true equal. They kept pretty much silent and smoked a cigarette while they were in this unusual situation of watching someone who was actually their hostage cooking tea. But this way he was certainly of much more use than being tied up. Fuji for sure liked toys to play with, and Jake wasn't much different, but the fun would have worn off quickly, probably. Especially for Fuji who enjoyed the company of people who were said equal or at least close to it.

"Interestin'", Jake remarked after Lucy made eye contact with them for the second time, pointing at him with his cigarette. "Dude's makin' a good maid prolly eh?" "Watch out, he gets perverted thoughts", Fuji warned Lucy but had to chuckle, letting his fingers run through his hair, something he did once in a minute at least. "But yeah, it's somehow like Dahmer's kitchen. Would you cook us a soup with your lil' finger in it, too?" It was a genuine question, and they probably would have eaten it.

But they were genuinely intrigued right now, too. Groaning in surprise at the beautiful color of the tea. "Milk and sugar, tsk", Fuji made and took one of the cups. "Do I look like a baby cow?" "Ya do", Jake interferred, taking a cup as well. "Havin' the pretty face. Moo!" This was the first time Fuji actually laughed earnestly since they had brought Lucy here, then he sniffed on the drink. "Ya know ya won't live in case shit's poisoned, but maybe it's an aphrodisiac tho, eh?", Jake asked and winked, getting nudged by Fuji's shoulder. Fuji who had drunken the first sip and made a similar face to the one he had made while he had hung onto Lucy like a leech. "Okay, that's…holy shit." He even smacked. "Guess us vamps gonna have tea parties from now on instead of vodka sprees. If you stay and keep making it for us that is." He wasn't fond of appearing impressed, but he was. A lot so.

@secretxxpaladaiseu

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Height Poll: Who is (technically) the tallest character. Please remember that these polls are for fun!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.