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rootedinrevisions · 2 days ago

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Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog.

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you. “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable.

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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aestas---estas · 19 hours ago

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With all that we've been through, it's still you

MDNI 18+ | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | ~3,1k words | fem!reader, plus-sized/curvy reader (few mentions), light angst, fluff, emotional sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV sex (wrap it in real life folks), creampie | if I forgot a tag/tw please tell me | Read on AO3

The first day after Simon gets back from deployment is always the best and worst 24 hours of your life.

He's home, he's alive, he's safe — and that makes your heart soar, especially after missions where he has to go dark for weeks at a time.

But it's also like living with a ghost. He exiles himself to the guest room, sleeps on the ugly pull-out couch the two of you bought specifically because it was easy on his back.

The only reasons you even know he's home are the boots by the door and the jacket hung on the hook. He doesn't talk to you, moves as quiet as a mouse, only leaves his self-imposed enclosure when he knows you're busy elsewhere in the house.

He can't bear the thought of touching you with bloodstained hands. Even when his skin is squeaky clean after several washes before even leaving for your shared home, the haunting images in his mind remind him of what he does during his time away. So he turns the shower as hot as it'll go and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until his skin is red and raw to the touch. And even then he still waits, bides his time, until he can close his eyes and imagine you without your pretty face morphing into the bloodied and dying visages of comrades and enemies alike.

But just like clockwork, after 24 hours and 3 showers, Simon finds you and huddles up close. In the kitchen, with his arms wrapped around your middle as he crowds you against the counter, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. In the living room, laying himself down next to you with his head on your plush thighs, guiding the hand you're not using to scroll on your phone to card through his hair and scratch his scalp. In the bath, kneeling next to the tub as he begs with his eyes to help you wash your hair or just holding your hand and rubbing circles into your skin; reminding himself that you're alive, that you're safe, that you're not afraid of him despite the various atrocities he's committed.

Your favourite, however, are times like tonight, when it's the middle of the night and you wake from the mattress dipping behind you as Simon climbs in under the covers. He slides an arm around your middle, pulling you close, pressing his chest to your back until there isn't a sliver of air separating your bodies.

“Missed you, dove,” Simon murmurs, his lips hot on the back of your neck. His soft kisses make goosebumps rise on your exposed arms, and a barely suppressed shiver runs down your spine when he catches your earlobe for a quick, gentle nibble.

“Missed you too, Si,” you sigh out blissfully, body already relaxed and soft from his ministrations, anticipating the pleasure to come.

“Want you,” he says in between hot, open mouthed kisses. His hand has slid up under your sleep shirt, resting warm and heavy with intent on your stomach — waiting for permission before venturing further.

“You have me,” you promise, pressing yourself impossibly closer to his chest, one leg hooking over his.

You tilt your head, exposing more of your throat to Simon, a soft moan slipping from your lips when his big palm reaches up and grabs at a breast. It's gentle, a massage almost, and it makes your eyes flutter shut.

“My sweet girl.” Simon's voice is like liquid silk to your ears, low and sensual and full of unadulterated lust. You gasp when his rough fingers finally pay attention to your nipple; rolling and tugging at it until it's pebbled and sensitive.

You push your hips back against his, feeling the evidence of his arousal press against your ass. A low moan rumbles through Simon's chest as you move against him, his free hand pushing your shirt out of the way, up over the swell of your breasts, before rolling you to your back swiftly.

He's on top of you within a second, fitting himself in the cradle of your thighs, the vast expanse of his chest covering yours. His big paws frame your face and then you're kissing. It's soft and gentle, all lips and tongue; slow and reverent but no less passionate.

Simon's heavy on top of you, almost crushingly so. But if this is the way you go, unable to breathe with your lips glued to the man you love, then so be it. He's your favourite weighted blanket and you'd give anything to just stay like this forever.

Your fingers wander over his naked back, tracing and mapping the scars and marks littering his flesh; both old and new. When morning comes, you'll pepper them with kisses in the soft glow of the sun, but for now you're both satisfied with just touching and feeling each other.

“I love you,” Simon whispers, and you make a reluctant noise in your throat when he pulls his lips away from yours to say it. But your complaint dies the moment his mouth trails hot down your throat, sucking and kissing and licking at your skin all the way down to your chest.

You can feel his lips move as he mutters something against your sternum — more to himself than to you — but his voice is muffled, face pressed in between your full tits making the sound swallowed and unintelligible.

With one hand still running up and down the expanse of his back, you push your other one up and into his hair, petting and scratching until Simon preens under your touch. He stays there for a moment, listening to your heartbeat under his ear; reminding himself yet again that you’re alive, that you’re safe, that you love him.

You don’t get impatient with him, never. You always let him take everything at his own pace, and tonight is no different. He whispers muffled apologies against your skin, words dripping with feelings of both remorse and conviction. He does what he does because he needs to — someone always needs to. Like taking out the trash of the world, it’s not pleasant, but it is necessary. And the fact that he’s good at his job only means he gets to come back to your side. You, with your soft body and cradling arms and loving words.

Simon mouths his way to your already pert nipple, softly kissing around it before engulfing the sensitive nub, flicking it with his tongue, letting his teeth just barely make contact. Your breath hitches in your chest and a silent moan escapes your lips. And then he switches sides, keeping the pleasure on your abandoned breast with his fingers as he rolls and tugs at your nipple, all while licking and sucking on the other.

“Simon,” you hum in satisfaction, inadvertently spurring him on. His chest rumbles, something low and hungry that vibrates through him to you. His hands get rougher, calloused fingers digging into your flesh as he kisses his way down your chest until your thighs frame his shoulders.

He doesn’t ask, not verbally, but his eyes meet yours and you can see the need, the hunger, the desperation, in them clear as day. So you smile and give him a nod, lovingly stroking his cheek before settling your hand back in his hair — not pushing or pulling, just resting there, like an unspoken anchor to keep both of you connected in the moment.

Simon kisses your cunt over your underwear, once, twice, three times, before pulling the fabric to the side to get his tongue on you.

He doesn’t eat like a man starved, despite the lust in his eyes. No, he takes his time; practically making out with your pussy, slowly and steadily, almost romantically if it weren’t for the downright pornographic noises. His tongue is lapping and flicking at all the right spots, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs to keep you spread for his broad shoulders even when your body reacts to his ministrations and instinctually tries to close them. Simon knows what he wants and how to get it, and he won’t stop until you’re shaking with pleasure.

You come undone when he sucks your clit into his mouth, your hand grabbing a fistful of his hair as you breathe “right there, god, right there, Si”. Your back arches, the muscles in your thighs lock up, and then the feeling consumes you whole — it swallows you as white explodes in your vision, heart beating frantically as if trying to escape from your chest. Your lips form the syllables of his name, but you can’t be sure what exactly came out with how loud your blood rushes in your ears.

Simon licks you through the waves, moans in satisfaction as he laps up your slick, hips rutting against the soft mattress because you’re just that sweet. Your grip on his hair just barely borders on painful, but the slight sting only gives way to the much louder feelings of pride and satisfaction.

“You with me?” he asks once the aftershocks have rolled through your body and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice shaky but no less joyous — you have Simon back, not just in body, but in mind and soul. He’s back with you emotionally for the first time since he walked through your front door 24 hours prior.

Simon gives you a smile, a true one, not one of those cocky smirks he throws other people's way, and angles his head to press a kiss to your thigh. If this was any other night he would’ve bitten and sucked a bruise into your skin, but not tonight; tonight was all about reconnection, about soft and sweet love, about celebrating that you’re both alive.

He sits back on his knees, keeping your legs spread open with his hands, just looking down at you for a moment, taking it all in. Your breathing hasn’t steadied just yet, your chest rapidly rising and falling, and droplets of sweat decorate your heated skin. The shirt is still pushed up over your breasts and your underwear are crooked from when he pulled them aside instead of off. You’ve never looked more beautiful to Simon.

“Got another one in you?” he questions, running his hands down your thighs until his fingers are hooked in elastic, ready to tug the fabric away at your say-so.

You smile at him, lovingly and warm and radiant, and nod your head enthusiastically. You help him in discarding the rest of your clothes, throwing the few pieces both of you have to a heap on the ground. He settles back beside you on the bed, one big palm cradling your cheeks as he turns your head to look at him.

Unspoken I missed you’s and I love you’s exchange between your gazes. Words aren’t necessary right now, his and your expressions alone speak volumes about the devotion you both hold for the other.

Simon’s free hand wanders down the length of your body, slow and tender, almost teasing in its gentleness. You gasp as a thick finger prods longingly at your cunt, a few slow pumps before curling inside to massage that spongy spot that makes you see stars; his thumb rubbing firm circles over your clit in a tandem of pleasure.

“More,” you breathe, clutching at his bicep, feeling the muscles work as he obliges and stuffs you full with a second then a third finger. He works you up, pumping and rubbing at all the right spots, making sure you’re prepared for when he finally gets to slip his cock inside. He doesn’t let you fall off the edge, though, keeps you teetering on it until you’re a panting, shaking mess; like putty in his hands, so soft, so pliable, begging him for more, more, more.

It's not until you say his name, half pleading, half scolding, that he takes pity on you. The sound of his fingers sliding out of you is squelchingly wet, like your cunt is complaining, unwilling to let them go. And when he sucks the digits into his mouth it makes your face heat with a combination of arousal and embarrassment. He savours your taste, as if he didn't get enough of it, of you, while eating you out; eyes closed, throat humming in satisfied contentment, and you can't help but be hypnotised by the sight.

Simon lets his fingers go with a pop before leaning over you, opening the drawer on your bedside table to rifle through it blindly until he finds the bottle of lube he knew was there. You've taken the full length and girth of his cock without this much prep and help countless times before, always relished in the stretch and slight pinch, but on nights like tonight he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure.

“Your hand,” he says, voice low and gruff, the lust in it unmistakable.

The lube is cold when he deposits a dollop of it in your waiting palm. The click of the cap and closing of the drawer are loud in the otherwise quiet room, only amplifying your anticipation as you heat the gel between your hands. His eyes never leave yours until your fingers wrap around his achingly hard cock, making a moan rumble through his chest as his eyelids flutter shut.

You stroke him languidly, squeezing and twisting just the way you know he likes, the way that makes him twitch in your grip as you kiss his shoulder reverently. It makes his heart ache with deep seated love, and he has to look up at the ceiling to blink away the tears that start to form from the intimate act and overwhelming emotions of finally being home, being with you.

Simon surges forward to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours so hard and passionately it nearly makes your head spin. He's already close from having grinded against the bed while licking your cunt, and your hands on him feel heavenly. So when he stops your movements and whispers that he won't last long, you tell him it's okay — because it is, because you're up there, dancing on the edge together with him. His earlier ministrations had made you sensitive to the touch and the bliss of Simon's cock sliding inside you for the first time in months already has you clinging to his form and your walls clenching around him.

His arms are hooked under yours, hands cradling the back of your head, your face pressed into the crook of his neck; like he's protecting you, shielding you from the world, keeping you safe from all of its horrors. He stays there for a moment, cock nestled all the way inside your welcoming warmth, his already near aching balls resting against your ass; both of you basking in the moment and the wonderful feeling of each other.

It's not until your knees dig a little into his sides, impatient, that Simon starts moving; slowly sliding out of you, only the tip notched happily inside, before pushing back in, making sure to go as deep as he can possibly get without hurting you with every roll of his hips. One of your hands burrows into his hair, threading your fingers through the soft locks to pet and reassure, and to grip when the pleasure overtakes. Your hips are canted just right so his every thrust hits perfectly against your G-spot, making you screw your eyes shut and cling to him a little tighter.

You know Simon gets off on getting you off, knows he loves hearing your pleasure loud and clear as your moans mingle with his. So you mumble encouragements and praise and directions into his heated skin — you tell him how good it feels, gasp loudly when his hips start snapping instead of rolling, tense in his grasp and press your knees tighter around him as you practically mewl with pleasure.

And Simon, to his credit, isn’t silent either. He’s breathing heavily, cursing every so often when you clench around his cock. “Touch yourself for me,” he manages to moan out, cock sawing in and out of your cunt faster and faster as he approaches his high. “Wanna feel you come apart.”

So you wedge your free hand in between your sweaty bodies, a feat in itself with how his entire torso is pressing down onto yours, and find your swollen clit. It takes only a few quick circles with your fingers and the orgasm he had dangled in front of you while fucking you open on his fingers comes rushing back full-force.

You don’t even have the time to give him a warning before you’re trembling and calling his name, toes curling and legs shaking. Simon’s thrusts grow sloppy and near frantic within a second, your fluttering pussy practically milking his cock as he loses himself in you, spilling inside until his spend is leaking around his length still buried deep within you.

The room is quiet except for your laboured breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, hearts beating hard and fast in tandem, your fingers in his hair curling around strands and nails softly scratching against his scalp. There’s a small wet spot next to your head on the pillow from where Simon had finally let the cathartic tears from before roll silently down his cheeks — he knows you’d never judge him for crying due to overwhelming emotions, so he doesn’t exactly hide it, but it’s not something he’s particularly used to flaunting. So he wipes at his eyes without a word, still keeping you tucked away against his shoulder, and lets your petting hands soothe him.

It takes you a near herculean effort to convince Simon to let you up so you can pee and clean up, even when all you want to do is just stay under him and trace invisible patterns on his flushed skin. He follows close behind you to the bathroom, a compromise, never letting go of your hand even when he turns around to offer you some privacy as you sit down on the toilet. Simon quickly wets a hand towel to swipe over his sensitive cock with his free hand, hissing slightly at the sensation of too much which makes you chuckle, before offering a clean one for you.

You cuddle back in bed afterwards; your back to Simon’s chest, legs intertwined, his arm curled around your middle. His nose is in your hair and you can feel every exhale on the back of your neck — you’ve never felt more safe or loved.

“I'm really glad you're back, Si.”

His hold on you tightens and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

“I'm glad to be back, love.”

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p0orbaby · 1 day ago

Note

Leah/reader have been going through a sex drought so reader decides to surprise leah one evening with a strip tease. Make it SaUcY plz x

The plan has been percolating in your head for days. Weeks, if you’re honest with yourself. The outfit agonised over for days: all silk and black lace that toes the line between sultry and “I’m absolutely trying too hard.” You’ve taken into account lighting (low, warm, flattering) and ambiance (candles, but not so many it screams séance). This is high-level strategy, not a whim.

The drought has been bad. Biblical, almost. You’re starting to feel like one of those tortured protagonists in an indie film about suburbia. “Are we okay?” hangs between you and Leah like stale air. You’re fine—better than fine—but busy schedules and post-match fatigue have made the bed a glorified charging station for your phones rather than a place of… connection.

The sound of Leah’s keys jingling in the lock sends a ripple of nerves through you. You check your reflection in the mirror one last time—lingerie clinging to you in all the right places, lipstick sharp enough to cut glass. The kind of confidence that’s half real, half bravado.

“In the living room,” you reply, pitching your voice just shy of nonchalant.

The door opens, and Leah steps in, looking as gorgeous and knackered as ever. Her hair’s tied up in a loose bun, and her kit bag is slung over one shoulder. She smells faintly of fresh grass and whatever industrial-strength shower gel Arsenal uses.

“Hey,” she says. Her eyes land on you, and she pauses mid-step. “What’s all this?”

You cross the room slowly, hips swaying with more intent than usual. “I thought I’d treat you tonight”

Her bag drops to the floor with a dull thud. “Something special,” she repeats, her accent curling around the words like a tease of its own. “And what exactly does that mean?”

You press a button on your phone, and the opening notes of the song fill the room. Leah freezes as the implication hits her like a perfectly struck free kick. Her jaw tenses, her cheeks flush, and you know you’ve got her.

Her voice is shaky but attempting nonchalance. “Are you…? Are you about to—?”

You step closer, tugging the robe’s belt loose. “Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be”

She exhales sharply, her hands coming up in mock surrender. “Nope. Absolutely nowhere”

The next few minutes are equal parts electrifying and ludicrous. You sway your hips to the beat, sliding your robe off completely before stepping closer to her. Leah sits frozen on the edge of the sofa, hands gripping her knees like she’s trying not to combust. Her eyes flicker between your face and… everywhere else, wide and slightly panicked.

“You’re… really good at this,” she stammers, which makes you laugh mid-spin. “Like, way better than I expected”

“Expected?” You pause, raising an eyebrow as you slide a strap off your shoulder. “What were you expecting?”

She shakes her head rapidly, clearly realising she’s said the wrong thing. “No, I mean—it’s just—oh, God.” She runs a hand through her hair, flustered. “You’re killing me right now”

You step closer, close enough that her knees brush against yours. Her breathing has gone shallow, her lips parted slightly. “Killing you, huh?” you murmur, letting your fingers trail along the line of her jaw.

“I’m actually dead,” she whispers. “Gone. Buried”

You smirk, shifting to straddle her lap, and her hands hover awkwardly at your waist like she’s scared she’ll ruin the moment if she moves too soon. Her eyes search yours, and for a moment, the teasing drops away. There’s just her, and you, and the ridiculous, overwhelming love you have for each other.

“You’re allowed to touch me, you know,” you say softly, your lips inches from hers.

And that’s all it takes. Her hands find your hips, her grip firm but reverent, and she pulls you closer like she’s been waiting her whole life to do it. The playlist fades into the background as she kisses you—slow at first, then deeper, needier, like she’s making up for lost time.

The drought is over.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso x reader

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thesecondhandwoman · 2 days ago

Note

Can u do Vi x Reader. Where Vi was coming home from hanging out with her sister. She saw her girlfriend laying on their shared bed and she was holding Vi’s jacket cutely in her arms and she was cuddling with it with a cute face expression. Vi stared in awe and she said adorable. She came over and try to take it out of her hands but no use. So vi worker her up and she yawned cutely and saw her girlfriend and quickly grabbed Vi’s arm and hugged her and kissed her.

JACKET THEIF

Vi x f!reader

Summary: After a visit with Jinx and Ekko, Vi comes back home, expecting a big welcoming as always from you. But when she doesn’t, she remains confused, looking around and finding you cuddled up with her jacket.

Request: Anon 🤍

Vi trudged up the creaky staircase to her apartment, the worn steps groaning under her boots. The visit with Jinx and Ekko had been… eventful, as usual. Jinx was her usual chaotic self, and Ekko had been quick to remind her how overdue she was on catching up with other stuff the two have done. It was good to see them, but as much as Vi loved her family, especially after everything that has happened, nothing beats coming home to you after a long day.

Pushing the door open, Vi stepped inside and let it close behind her with a quiet click. She kicked off her boots and shrugged off the weight of the day.

“Babe?” she called, her raspy voice breaking the quiet.

No response.

Vi frowned. You were usually quick to greet her, a ball of energy running into her arms, peppering her face with kisses. She scanned the room, her eyes softening when she saw the faint glow from the bedroom.

Noting this, she padded quietly toward the door.

And there you were.

Curled up in a cocoon of blankets on the bed, you were the picture of peace. Your face was partially hidden by the thick folds of fabric, your expression serene as you slept. But what really made Vi stop in her tracks was the leather jacket clutched tightly in your arms.

Her leather jacket.

Vi’s heart melted on the spot. The sight of you cuddling her jacket like a child with a teddy bear, your face nuzzled into the worn material, sent a warmth through her chest that nothing else could.

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re gonna drool on it,” she murmured under her breath, stepping closer.

The floor creaked faintly beneath her as she approached the bed. Carefully, Vi knelt down and reached for the jacket, her fingers brushing against your hands as she tried to ease it free.

But you stirred.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the moment they met hers, your entire face lit up.

“Vi!” you squealed, tossing the jacket aside in favor of launching yourself at her.

Vi let out a surprised laugh as you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her down onto the bed with you. She stumbled, but the sound of your laughter and the feel of your lips pressing excited kisses to her cheek made her forget everything else.

“You’re back!” you said, your voice muffled as you buried your face in her neck.

“Yeah, I’m back,” Vi chuckled, wrapping her arms around you. “But you’re supposed to be sleeping, not stealing my jacket, ya little thief.”

“It smells like you,” you mumbled, pouting slightly as you leaned back to look at her. “And I missed you.”

Vi’s grin softened, her thumb brushing over your cheek as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Missed you too, babe. But that’s no excuse to drool on my stuff.”

You gasped in mock outrage, lightly swatting her shoulder. “I don’t drool!”

Vi smirked. “Mm-hmm, sure you don’t.”

Before you could argue, she tackled you back onto the bed, her laughter mingling with yours as the two of you wrestled for a moment, the jacket forgotten on the floor.

When the laughter finally died down, you lay curled up in her arms, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

“Welcome home,” you whispered sleepily.

Vi tightened her hold on you, her lips brushing against your hair. “Mm, glad to be home when you are in it...”

“Likewise, baby.” You cooed as you both tangled up in eachothers’ warmth, relaxing until you two drifted back asleep.

Note: Sorry that this is a bit short, it was kinda rushed, but I hope y’all like it!

#vi x you #vi x reader #vi x reader fanfic #vi fanfic #vi arcane #vi #arcane #arcane fanfic #lesbian fanfic #lesbian #fluffy fanfic #fanfic #fanfic writing

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tokkiwrites · 16 hours ago

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After breaking up with your boyfriend of four years, you’re left heartbroken and desperate to leave it all behind. But as fate would have it, just as you’re about to walk out the door of his house, you run into his fatherㅡ the man who’s always lingered at the edges of your mind. the next sensible thing to do is fuck him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: pwp, bf's dad joel miller x f! reader, short description of toxic rs, fight scene, afab reader, i dont know if this is categorized as cheating :p , age gap, fingering f receiving, joel has a huge one but we alr know!, dirty talk, pet names, p in v unprotected, creampie, slight slapping and hairpulling.

✿ 🪽 𓈒 ﹫𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 ..＼ ♰ i have been neglecting you cute freaks, but i am here to feed you. behold! boyfriend's dad joel miller smut! around 2.6k words, so it's pretty short, but i hope you love it. not proofread!!!!! okay baiiii 😎🫶🏻

The fight tears through the house like a hurricane, each word leaving wounds too deep. "You never listen to me!" you yell, your voice raw and trembling. Your chest aches, your throat burns, but the word vomit won’t stop pouring out. "Four years, and it’s like I’m shouting into a void! Do you even care about us?"

"Do you even fucking hear yourself?" he fires back, pacing the room like he can’t bear to stand still. "God, all you do is pick fights! You always need something to be wrong. What the actual fuck?"

"Because something is wrong!" Your voice cracks, and the tears come faster now, hot and humiliating. You hate how small you feel, how desperately you want him to care. "I’ve been fighting for this, for you, and all you do is act like it’s a burden!" He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Maybe it is. Maybe you are." The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches, and for a moment, the room feels impossibly still. You don’t want to cry anymore, but the tears fall anyway, blurring your vision as you step back. "Fine," you whisper, your voice trembling. "If that’s how you feel, then we’re done. I’m done." He freezes, his expression shifting to something almost regretful— but not enough to stop him. "Fuck this." He grabs his keys from the counter and storms out without another word. The door slams behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet house.

For a moment, you just stand there, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you try to hold in the sobs threatening to break free. The silence feels suffocating, pressing in on you from every angle. You can’t stay here. You need to leave.

You grab your bag and wipe your face as best you can, hands still shaking. You tell yourself you’re fine, that the fresh air will help. But as you turn the corner into the foyer, you collide with something solid— someone solid. "Whoa there," a low voice drawls, steadying you with hands firm and sure. Your heart stutters as you look up and see Joel, your now ex-boyfriend's father.

Your breath catches in your throat. His hand is on your arm, warm and grounding, as his dark eyes search your face. His presence is like a balm, so different from the storm you just walked out of. He’s all quiet strength and rugged edges, his salt-and-pepper beard only making him look more like someone carved out of the earth itself. "Hey, sweet girl," he says, his tone warm and laced with that familiar twang. "What’s got you all worked up? You alright?" The sound of his voice is enough to break you all over again. You shake your head, the tears spilling over despite your best efforts to hold them back. You try to answer, but your words falter. All you can do is nod, though you know you’re far from alright. Not when his thumb is brushing lightly over your flesh, not when his scent— warm, woodsy, familiar— makes your knees fall weak. You can’t look at him, can’t look at the steadiness in his eyes or the way his hands ground you when you feel like you’re falling apart.

"Hey now," he says softly, pulling you into a hug before you can protest. His arms wrap around you, strong and safe, and for the first time all night, you don’t feel like you’re about to shatter. "C’mere, sweet thing. You gotta talk to me, mkay? What happened?" You press your face into his chest, breathing in hus smell that makes you feel like you’re home, even though you know you shouldn’t.

It’s absurd, really. You’ve always known he was handsome, but standing this close, it hits you differently. You��ve always noticed him in ways you shouldn’t, caught yourself glancing too long, wondering too much. And now, with tears still wet on your cheeks and your heart in pieces, he feels like the only steady thing left in the world.

"It’s over," you mumble against his shirt, your voice muffled but thick with emotion. "I broke it off with him. For r-real this time..." Joel pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands settling on your shoulders as his brow furrows. "You and him?" he asks gently, but you could tell he wasn't quite sure in your answer. "You sure ‘bout that?"

"Y-yeah..." You nod, your throat tight. "So you don’t have to... act nice anymore. You don’t have to pretend like you like m-me or care or whatever. It’s done now..." His expression shifts, confusion flickering across his face before something warmer takes its place. His lips part slightly as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

"Sweetheart," he says, his voice dipping lower, softer, like a secret meant just for you. "What the hell gave you the idea I don’t like you?" You blink up at him, stunned. "I just—"

"Little lady," he interrupts, leaning closer, his voice growing rougher, "it’s damn near impossible not to like you." Your breath catches as his thumb brushes over your cheek, his stare unflinching, as he examines your tear-stained face. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never noticed before—something unguarded, like he’s been holding it back for years. "Sweet thing like you," he murmurs, his lips quirking into the smallest of smiles. "Anyone with half a brain’d like you. But me? Hell, darlin’. I’ve liked you since the day I met you."

You step back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze fully, searching his face for any hint of pity, of kindness given out of obligation. "You don’t need to lie to me," you say, voice trembling. It feels like your heart is spilling out of you, breaking open right here in front of him. "Not just to make me feel better..."

Joel’s brow furrows, his dark eyes softening, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. A thread holds stretched taut between you. He doesn’t drop his hands from your shoulders, doesn’t let you pull away any further. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying you like you’re the most important thing in the world right now, like he’s trying to figure out how to put the pieces of you back together.

"What reason would I have to lie to ya now that you ain't with my sorry ass boy?" His voice is low, almost a whisper, but it carries a shiver down your whole body. You swallow hard, shaking your head. "I don’t know. I just—" You stumble over your own tongue.

Joel exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes bore into yours. simmering, waiting to swallow you whole. "Darlin’," he murmurs, "Let me show you then." Before you can even think, he leans in.

The world falls away the moment his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, hesitant, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him if this isn’t what you want. But when you don’t pull away and when you melt into him instead, your fingers clutching at his shirt, he deepens the kiss, large hands sliding from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer.

His lips are warm and sure, washing away any heartbreak you might've felt.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. "Am I lyin'?" Your chest tightens, the tears welling up again, but this time they’re different. They’re not the tears of heartbreak—you’re not even sure what they are, only that they feel a little like hope.

"Mister Miller," you breathe, his name dancing on your puffy lips. He smiles, soft and a little sad, brushing a thumb along your cheek. "I got you, sweet girl. You just let me." and you crumble completely. with no hesitation, he picks you up, taking you to the nearest bedroom, where he closes the door behind.

it felt wrong. it was wrong. but the way he looked looming over, you got your head spinning in all the right ways. the bed pooled under you, sheets rustling as you watched joel discard part of his clothes. you nip at your lower lip, scooting your body upward to remove the pants you had on. in mere seconds, both of you are naked, gasping, and holding onto each other like nothing else mattered.

You finally get to see joel fully naked and you can't quite understand how a man his age looks the way he does, and how he's still single, given the package he's been blessed with. "you can stop starin' now. you wanna get me shy?" joel teases, his shaft now on full view for you to gawk at. you're taken by surprise when he so easily pulls you down towards him.

he trailed kisses down your chest like flowers fall from cherry trees in the spring, your body reacting in ways you didn’t know were possible. "Please hurry..." and he chuckles, maybe proud maybe amused to see you this desperate. "'m sorry, darlin'" You purr under his touch, wrapping around him like he's a lifeline. his lips crash against yours again, rough palm slipping into your wet panties. you gasp, the feeling so strange yet so familiar. he lets go of your lips, thick fingers working their way inside of you. Joels eyes meet yours, and he curls his digits, speed picking up. the sounds youㅡ your pussy made, were pure music to him, constant encouragement to go harder, faster, loving the way you looked crumbling onto his fingers. "got such a pretty pussy. Sure you ok with an old man ruin it for anyone else?" he asked it as if it was the least absurd thing he could say right now. you nod your head profusely. "atta girl. knew you were the obedient kind first time I saw ya."

"You gonna come?" Almost mocking you, but you could bot form the proper words. You just looked deep into his glinting eyes as your hand made its way to his hardened crotch. "P-pleasee..." Joel almost loses himself, but he's steady with his movements. "Wanna come on my cock, hm? is that what you beggin' for?" your folds drip and clench around him deliciously, you don't want it to end. and when you're almost there... he stops. you whine in protest but you're quickly put back in your place with a firm tug at your hair. "You take what I give you, girl. Now ass up." you comply. in a second, your back is facing him, red cheeks now hidden into his pillow. you try to balance yourself up with one arm, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Spread 'em." And you do just that, pulling at your flesh. like an auction. only it's you presenting your cunt for fucking. "Fuck, look at that..." he tuts, gathering some of your juices on his pulsing tip, dragging it up and down your puffy lips. "Pretty girl. She cryin' for me, baby?" a string of fain 'yesyesyes' reaches his ear. hes quiet for a bit but the moment he pushes the tip inside you feel your knees buckle, all the strength you had left into your arms fluttering away. you fall face first into the mattres under you as joel pushes down your lower back. it hurts, but the pain is delicious. your moans feel the room, the occasional slap to your ass interrupting them. Joel is strong, fast and brutal, leaving you no room to breathe, fucking so deep into you you're sure he's way past your bellybutton. "T-takin' it so well, pretty girl, so well.." your skin burns where joel touched it, whole head fuzzy and empty. "pleasepleaseplease" as the whole bed shakes and strums to his movements.

your back arches as waves of pleasure break over your body like water on a shore. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made. "been dreamin' about havin' you like this, baby. look at herㅡ" joel throws his head back, delivering a harsh thrust, the pain quickly melding into pleasure. "gonna come, hm?" he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." You don't know if you're crying because it feels too good or because of how long you've waited for this, no matter how unforgiving this could be.

eyes shot open when he roughly yanks your hair, your skin slapping on his being to only sound you can faintly make out in your dazed state. you let your whole body go, tongue lulled out as he takes out on you anything he might've been feeling. you were at his mercy, your moans irrefutable. your stomach flips and churns as that familiar feeling pools again in your lower tummy, and you were chasing it, crying. from what, you didn't quite know. maybe because you've never been fucked this good or maybe because it'll be over too soon.

the room was stuffy. "o-oh myㅡ god!" You yelp when joels speed picks up, shocked that he can go that fast, considering you've heard him multiple times complaining about his bad back. "shitㅡ i gotta come, baby. you gonna let me do it in ya? huh?" You nod your head so, squeezing around him like a ring, and he rewards you with a slap to your ass. "fuckin' slut." he laughs through breathy moans. you're holding on for dear life, reaching for anything your fingers can grasp at this moment. you're sure the neighbors are having a blast seeing the whole house shake. "that's it, girl. take itㅡ c'mon..." with a few more pumps his hips come to a halt, whole body trembling as he comes ropes inside of you. you let go, bliss washing over you, the ringing in your ears covering the soft curses escaping Joel's lips. steadying himself, he pulls out, voice cracking as he speaks again. "fuuck... baby, look at her." he smiles crooked, watching intently as his come drips out of you, cascading down to your thighs. you lick your lips, looking back and right up at him whilst spreading your legs wider.

"Don't do that. think I don't have it in me to fuck you again?"

you tease, "i don't know. do you?" and he laughs, pushing inside of you again, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. "Careful, girl."

you wonder when your boyfriendㅡ i mean exㅡ will come back home.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #boyfriends dad ! joel miller

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elikajinnie · 1 day ago

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The Frequency Of A Killer - S.J

P: Killer!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suspense, Teasing, Murder, Attempted Murder, Stalking, Mind Games, Obsessive Behaviour kinda?

Wordcount: + 20k words

Synopsis: After moving to a small town as a horror talk show host, you uncover a deadly cover-up tied to a masked killer. As the bodies pile up, the killer becomes fixated on you. Can you unravel the truth?

a/n: her we go! another killer au but this time its not Heeseung or Ni-ki! We got Jake :) so this is inspired by my fave horror game; killer frequency - 1000% recommend.

---

You were used to the rush, the buzz, and the endless opportunities of the big city. The noise didn’t bother you. Networking came naturally, jobs were abundant, and you’d found your niche in the chaos: hosting a podcast about horror and true crime in a way that set your listeners on edge while keeping them hooked. Your show had skyrocketed to fame, and you’d connected with an entire community of enthusiasts who lived for the thrill, just like you. Life was good. Stable. Yours.

Until your company decided you weren’t “it” anymore.

The justification was laughable—“gender diversity,” they’d said. They wanted to swap you out for some guy, as if trading a seasoned, beloved host for an inexperienced one would make everything magically better. You weren’t buying it, but their minds were made up. No amount of protest or proof of your success could change their decision. And so, you left, refusing to stick around and watch them hand your hard work over to someone who didn’t earn it.

That’s how you found yourself in this small, sleepy town, working for a much smaller company that was trying its hand at podcasts. They hired you on the spot, practically drooling over your experience, and offered you a spot as the host of their horror and true crime segment. It was meant to be a temporary gig, a placeholder until—surely—your old company would come crawling back, begging for you to return.

But a month had passed. One whole, quiet month, and they hadn’t reached out. Not even a courtesy email.

At least this place wasn’t half bad. You had your own little booth, tucked away in the back of the building, with soundproof walls and just enough space to feel like your own world. The show was entirely yours to run—aside from the occasional ad spot they made you slip in—and you had free rein to do what you did best. Even the people weren’t bad.

Especially Beomgyu.

Beomgyu was technically your producer, though most of his job seemed to involve screening calls and chatting with you during breaks. He sat in the booth just across from yours, separated by a thin pane of glass, and had this habit of pulling faces at you whenever you got too serious. At first, you thought he was annoying—this twenty-something with a mop of messy hair and a perpetual smirk—but over time, he’d grown on you.

Tonight was no different. You leaned back in your chair, headphones snug over your ears as you wrapped up the last caller. A woman with a trembling voice had called in to share a local ghost story about the old mill at the edge of town, and you’d expertly guided her through the tale, adding just the right amount of suspense and curiosity to keep your listeners hooked.

When the call ended, you glanced over at Beomgyu through the glass. He was grinning, spinning lazily in his chair, and holding up a piece of paper with “9/10” scrawled on it in bold, black ink.

You rolled your eyes and flicked him off with a smirk. He just laughed, pointing to the mic to remind you you were still live.

“Alright,” you said smoothly, turning back to the soundboard. “That’s all the time we have for tonight. Thanks for tuning in, and as always—lock your doors, check under your bed, and don’t trust the shadows.”

The outro music played, and you switched off your mic with a satisfied sigh.

“Not bad,” Beomgyu teased as you stood up, stretching your arms. “But you totally rushed the ending on that last one. Where was the suspense?”

“Where was the suspense?” you echoed mockingly, grabbing a cup of coffee off the table and taking a sip. “How about I’m the professional, and you’re just the guy who answers phones?”

Beomgyu snorted. “Keep telling yourself that. One day, I’m gonna take over your job and show you how it’s really done.”

“Please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “You’d last five minutes before you started talking about aliens or some weird conspiracy theory.”

He grinned. “You know me so well.”

The night started off normal enough. You sat at the small desk in the break area, sipping on a lukewarm coffee Beomgyu had somehow convinced you to grab for him before realizing you needed one for yourself too. He lounged across from you, feet propped up on the edge of the table like he owned the place, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“So,” he started casually, tilting his head with that usual lopsided grin of his, “what’s it like being a big-shot city person stuck in our little backwater town?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “First of all, you act like I came here voluntarily. Second, backwater’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I call it like I see it. You’ve been here a month and you still can’t hide the ‘get me out of here’ look on your face.”

“Maybe because I’m waiting for my old company to realize they made the worst mistake of their lives.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And when they don’t? What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “There’s no Plan B, because Plan A is going to work. They’ll come crawling back. Trust me.”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a doubtful look. “Sure, sure. But admit it—this place isn’t so bad. It’s quiet, no traffic, and the rent is dirt cheap. I bet your apartment here is, like, three times bigger than whatever shoebox you had back in the city.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll give you that,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair. “The cost of living here is nice. And I don’t hate the peace and quiet. But the thing about big cities? There’s always something happening. People, events, opportunities. It’s like… the energy keeps you alive, you know?”

Beomgyu chuckled, twirling the pen like he was in some kind of drumline. “Sounds exhausting. You city people thrive on chaos. Meanwhile, out here, we’ve got… cows. And maybe a parade if you’re lucky.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that bad here. I just… I’m not used to it yet.”

“Give it time,” he said, leaning forward like he was about to share a secret. “Pretty soon, you’ll be one of us. Walking slow, waving at strangers, knowing everyone’s business…”

You grimaced. “That sounds like my worst nightmare.”

Beomgyu laughed so hard he nearly knocked over his coffee. He was still grinning when he asked, “So what was it like, though? Your old job, I mean. The fancy podcast thing.”

For a moment, you hesitated. You could still remember it clearly—the studio, the buzz of the city outside, the adrenaline rush of knowing your audience was hanging on to your every word.

“It was…” you began, searching for the right word. “It was everything I wanted, for a while. I worked my way up, you know? Started small, built an audience, found my voice. It was a grind, but it was worth it.”

Beomgyu nodded, his expression more serious now. “So what went wrong?”

You sighed, tracing your finger along the rim of your cup. “They wanted to ‘freshen things up.’ Change the direction of the show. Apparently, a guy hosting would bring in a ‘different perspective.’”

“That’s bullshit,” Beomgyu said immediately, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, well, tell that to them.” You shrugged, masking the sting with a bitter smile. “They thought it was a good idea. I didn’t.”

“Idiots,” Beomgyu muttered, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this than some random guy.”

“Thanks,” you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I’ll remind them of that when they come groveling.”

Then the clock on the wall chimed, reminding you it was time to start the show.

“Alright, back to work,” you said, standing up and stretching. “Don’t let me catch you slacking, Beomgyu.”

“Me? Slack? Never,” he replied, mock-offended as he followed you toward the booth.

The show started as usual—smooth, easy, familiar. The first few callers were locals sharing urban legends, strange encounters, and the occasional eerie coincidence. Beomgyu stayed in his booth across from you, laughing silently at your quips and holding up cards with goofy doodles to make you break character mid-recording.

But then, midway through the second hour, a call came through that made your stomach drop.

Beomgyu patched it through with his usual nonchalance, giving you a thumbs-up from the other side of the glass. “Line three,” he mouthed.

“Hello,” you said into the mic, your voice steady despite the sudden shift in the air. “You’re on the air. What’s your name, and what story do you have for us tonight?”

There was a long pause. Too long. Static crackled faintly on the other end.

Then, a voice you didn’t recognize—low, and far too calm—spoke.

“Do you ever wonder if someone’s watching you right now?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You forced a laugh, playing it off for your listeners. “Well, I guess I should hope so—otherwise, what’s the point of doing a live show?”

The voice didn’t laugh. “No,” it said. “I mean really watching you. Right now.”

Goosebumps rose on your arms. You glanced toward Beomgyu, who raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure where this was going.

“I think that’s a little too vague to count as a story,” you said, keeping your tone light. “Care to elaborate?”

The line went silent for a moment, then the voice spoke again, quieter this time.

“Check your window.”

Your blood ran cold. You turned instinctively to the window beside your booth. It was dark outside, the glass reflecting nothing but the dim glow of your equipment.

Nothing was there.

But the voice on the other end of the line chuckled softly, sending a chill down your spine.

“Gotcha,” it said, before the call abruptly disconnected.

Beomgyu’s voice crackled through your headphones, pulling you out of the eerie fog left by the last caller.

“That was… weird,” he said, leaning closer to his mic in the booth across from you. You could see his reflection in the glass, brow furrowed in confusion. “I mean, what window? We’re on the second floor. Unless there’s some really tall guy with a ladder out there, what the hell was that supposed to mean?”

A nervous laugh escaped you as you reached for your cup of water, trying to shake off the chill creeping up your spine. “Right? Probably some wannabe prank caller. People love to act spooky when they know they’re live.”

“Yeah, but that voice?” Beomgyu leaned back, tapping his fingers against his desk. “It didn’t sound like someone joking. It sounded… I don’t know. Off.”

“Let’s not overthink it,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the unease settling in your chest. “Weird calls are part of the job, right? It’s probably nothing.”

Beomgyu nodded slowly, but his usual playful grin didn’t return. His eyes flickered to the window behind you, then back to his desk as if trying to distract himself.

Before either of you could dwell on it further, the phone lit up again. Another call.

“Line two,” Beomgyu said, pressing the button to patch it through.

You straightened in your seat, slipping your headphones back on. “You’re on the air. What’s your name, and what story do you have for us tonight?”

This time, the voice on the other end was hurried, shaky, and unmistakably real.

“This is Officer Park from the Greenfield Police Department,” a woman said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I—God, I don’t even know who else to call right now. I just got back to the station—was out getting donuts for the night shift—and when I walked in, I found…”

She stopped, her voice catching on a sob. Your stomach twisted.

“You found what?” you asked gently, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Beomgyu through the glass.

“Two of the officers—two of my coworkers,” the woman stammered. “They’ve been stabbed. One of them… one of them’s already gone. The other one is still alive, barely. I called for backup, but closest units are at least five hours away, and I don’t know what to do.”

Beomgyu’s jaw dropped as he mouthed, Is this for real?

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your desk. “Okay, Officer Park, take a deep breath,” you said, your tone steady even though your heart was racing. “Are you somewhere safe right now?”

“Yes,” she said, her breath hitching. “I locked myself in the back office. But whoever did this—they could still be here. I didn’t see anyone when I came in, but… Oh, God, what if they’re still inside?”

You leaned closer to your mic, your voice low but firm. “Okay, listen to me. First, you did the right thing by calling for backup. Stay where you are, keep the door locked, and don’t make any noise. Do you have your weapon on you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly.

“Good,” you said. “And the officer who’s still alive—do you know if they’re in immediate danger? Can you hear or see them from where you are?”

“They’re out in the main lobby,” she replied, her voice trembling. “I can hear them—barely. They’re trying to say something, but I can’t make it out. I think they’re losing consciousness.”

Your pulse quickened as you considered the situation. This wasn’t just some urban legend or creepy caller—this was real, and someone’s life was on the line.

“Okay, Officer Park, here’s what we’re going to do,” you said, keeping your tone as calm as possible. “Do you have anything with you—first aid supplies, even a jacket—anything you can use to stabilize them if you go out there?”

“There’s a med kit in the office,” she said.

“Good. Grab it. But listen—only go out there if you’re sure it’s safe. Move quickly, quietly, and keep your weapon ready. Check the corners, and don’t let your guard down. If you hear or see anything suspicious, you come right back to the office and lock the door. Do you understand?”

There was a long pause. Then she whispered, “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Stay on the line with us,” you said, glancing at Beomgyu, who was already typing furiously on his laptop, probably trying to look up news reports or police scanner updates. “We’re not going anywhere.”

You could hear her moving, her breathing shaky but determined as she whispered, “I’m opening the door.”

Your own breath hitched as you listened to the faint creak of a door opening on her end.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said softly. “I’m stepping out now.”

The seconds dragged on like hours as you listened to her footsteps, the faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzing in the background.

“I see him,” she whispered. “He’s—oh, God, he’s bleeding so much. I’m going to try to stop it.”

You could hear her fumbling with the med kit, her voice barely audible as she muttered, “Stay with me, okay? Stay with me. Help is on the way.”

Your pulse pounded as Officer Park’s frantic movements came through the line. You forced yourself to keep your voice steady, trying to calm both her and yourself.

"Officer Park," you said firmly, leaning closer to the mic. "Listen to me. You need to arm yourself before doing anything else. Do you have access to any weapons right now?"

She hesitated for a moment, her breathing quick. "There’s a weapons locker in the office, but the keys are… they’re on one of the officers."

“Okay. You need to get those keys from the officer who…” You paused, forcing yourself to stay calm. “The officer who’s gone. You’ll need them if you’re going to get out of there alive. And when backup arrives, they’ll need you armed.”

“I already told you,” she whispered sharply. “Backup isn’t coming anytime soon. This is a small town. The nearest station is in the next county over—at least five hours away.”

The weight of her words settled like a stone in your chest. “Then you need to leave now,” you said. “You’ll have to meet them halfway, but you can’t just stay there. Take the surviving officer and get out of the station. Use the police cruiser. Are the keys to the car with the officers too?”

“Probably,” she said, voice shaking.

“Then get them,” you urged. “Check the pockets of the officer who…” You hesitated again, but there wasn’t time for gentleness. “Who’s already gone.”

There was a long pause, followed by a shaky exhale. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”

You could hear her moving again, her footsteps echoing faintly. Then, muffled rustling as she moved the officer’s body.

“I’ve got them,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “The car keys. And…” She paused, the sound of a locker creaking open coming through the line. “Weapons. I’ve got pepper spray, a taser, and a baton. Which one should I take?”

You exchanged a glance with Beomgyu, who shrugged helplessly. “The taser,” you said decisively. “It’s your best option for close combat if the killer comes back. You’ll still have the element of surprise.”

“Alright,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I’m taking the taser. And the med kit. I’m going to try to move Officer Kim to the car.”

“Be careful,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “Check your surroundings constantly. Keep the taser in your hand. And whatever you do, stay quiet.”

You listened in tense silence as she dragged the injured officer toward the car, her breaths labored but determined. The sound of a car door opening reached your ears, followed by the faint groans of the wounded officer being carefully placed in the back seat.

“I’ve got him in the car,” Officer Park said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m about to start it.”

“Good,” you said. “Start it quietly and get out of there as fast as you can.”

But just as the engine sputtered to life, a haunting whistle cut through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. It was distant but unmistakable—low and drawn out, carrying an almost mocking tone.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, panic creeping back into her voice. “They’re here. The killer’s here.”

You leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk. “Stay calm,” you said. “Lock the doors. Don’t move until you know it’s safe. If they come close, use the taser.”

Through the line, you heard faint footsteps and the sound of shouts—angry, guttural, and close. Then a scuffle broke out.

“They’re trying to break into the car!” Officer Park shouted, her voice shaking with fear and adrenaline.

“Use the taser!” you yelled. “Now!”

There was a loud crackling sound, followed by a strangled scream.

“It worked!” she cried out, her voice bursting with relief. “The taser worked! They’re down!”

A second later, the engine roared to life, and the sound of the car speeding away filled the line.

“Are you okay?” you asked breathlessly.

“I’m okay,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “We’re leaving. I’m heading to the next town over to meet the backup units. It’s about five hours from here—less if I push it.”

“Good,” you said, exhaling slowly. “Just stay safe and focus on the road.”

“One more thing,” she added, her tone suddenly serious. “The emergency police line—it’s been rerouted to you. I couldn’t risk leaving the station unattended, so if anyone in town calls for help, it’ll go to your line instead.”

You froze, glancing at Beomgyu, who stared back at you with wide eyes.

“Wait,” you said, your stomach sinking. “What are we supposed to do if the killer targets someone else?”

“You’re going to have to help them,” she said grimly. “Until we can get backup to the town, you’re the only ones who can.”

The line went dead, leaving you and Beomgyu sitting in stunned silence, the weight of her words settling over you like a storm cloud.

“Uh… what the hell just happened?” Beomgyu finally said, his voice cracking slightly.

You didn’t answer, your mind racing as you stared at the blinking lights on the phone.

Somewhere out there, the killer was still on the loose. And now, the entire town was counting on you.

After a while the familiar ring of the phone jolted you from your thoughts, the sudden sound piercing the tense silence that had settled in the booth. Beomgyu’s voice crackled through your headphones.

“Line three,” he said.

You nodded to Beomgyu, signaling for him to patch it through.

“You’re on the air,” you said, adjusting your mic.

“I—oh, no, no, I think I called the wrong number,” a woman stammered, her voice trembling. “I was trying to call the police. There’s—there’s someone after me.”

Your heart sank as you exchanged a quick glance with Beomgyu through the glass. “You didn’t call the wrong number,” you explained quickly. “The emergency line is being rerouted to us temporarily. But you’re not alone—we’re here to help. Just tell us where you are and what’s happening.”

The woman hesitated for a moment, her breath audible over the line. “I just left the gym. I’m trying to get to my car, but there’s this… man. He’s following me. He has a knife, I’m sure of it.”

A faint whistle echoed in the background of the call, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. The woman gasped, her voice rising in panic.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I should’ve stayed home. Why didn’t I stay home?”

You leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk tightly. “Listen to me,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady despite the anxiety bubbling in your chest. “Don’t stop. Keep moving toward your car. You can do this.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

“I know,” you said softly. “But you’re doing great. Just keep going. Focus on your breathing and keep moving. We’re not going anywhere—we’ve got you.”

The sound of her hurried footsteps came through the line, along with her ragged breathing.

“I see my car,” she said, relief creeping into her voice. “I’m almost there.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Good. Get in and lock the doors immediately. Don’t worry about starting it until you’re inside and safe.”

A moment later, there was the faint sound of a car door opening and slamming shut.

“I made it,” she said, exhaling shakily. “I’m in.”

“Great job,” you said, feeling a small surge of relief. “Now start the car and drive somewhere safe—”

“Oh, no,” she interrupted, her voice rising in panic again. “No, no, no! I—I forgot my keys. They’re still in the gym!”

Your stomach dropped.

Beomgyu’s voice came through your headphones before you could respond. “Wait,” he said, leaning closer to his mic. “One guy—one who works here. I’ve seen him reading magazines about car maintenance in the breakroom. He might’ve had something about starting a car without keys.”

You blinked at him, hope flickering. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Beomgyu said. “I saw him reading one earlier this week.”

You muted the line to the woman briefly, turning back to Beomgyu. “Where did he leave it?”

“Probably in his office,” Beomgyu said with a shrug. “You’ll have to look for it.”

With a deep breath, you stood up. “Keep her talking. Keep her calm until I get back,” you said, pulling off your headphones.

Beomgyu gave you a thumbs up as you left the booth, closing the door behind you.

You made your way toward the offices, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. The darkened corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, but you finally reached the office. The door creaked as you pushed it open.

The room was cluttered, papers and other stuff scattered across the desks. You rifled through the mess, searching for the magazine Beomgyu had mentioned, but it was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, you were about to give up when a folded piece of paper caught your eye on the desk. Curious, you unfolded it.

Borrowed the car magazine for some light reading. Left it in the bathroom. -J

You frowned, squinting at the note. The bathroom? Of course.

Taking a deep breath, you headed toward the men’s bathroom, the unease in your chest growing with each step. Standing outside the door, you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.

The air inside was still, the lights flickering slightly. You scanned the room, your eyes landing on the floor of one of the stalls. Sure enough, there it was—a magazine, its glossy cover faintly reflecting the dim light.

Bracing yourself, you stepped into the stall and grabbed it. Clutching the magazine, you made your way back to the booth as quickly as possible, the tension in your chest finally easing as the familiar glow of the studio came into view.

Sliding back into your seat, you slipped on your headphones. “Got it,” you said, flipping through the pages.

“About time,” Beomgyu muttered, relief in his voice. “She’s still in the car. Freaking out, but holding it together.”

“Alright,” you said, scanning the pages for anything useful. “Let’s get her out of there.”

You flipped quickly through the magazine, scanning each page for something useful. Beomgyu, still connected to the call, was murmuring reassurances to the woman, keeping her calm as best as he could. Finally, near the back of the magazine, you spotted a section titled: “How to Start a Car Without Keys—In Emergencies Only!”

Bingo.

You unmuted the call, speaking quickly. “Okay, I’ve got instructions here. It’s a little complicated, but we’re going to get you out of there. Are you ready to listen?”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “Please, just tell me what to do.”

“Alright. First, do you see the steering column? You’ll need to take off the plastic cover underneath it.”

“The plastic cover?” she repeated, her voice filled with uncertainty.

“Yes. There should be a seam where it comes apart. Can you find it?”

There was a rustling sound, followed by a faint click. “I—I see it. I think I can pry it open.”

“Good. Use anything sharp—a nail file, a keychain, anything to pop it off,” you instructed.

A few tense seconds passed, the sound of fumbling and grunting filling the line.

“Got it!” she said suddenly. “It’s off.”

“Perfect. Now, you should see some wires underneath,” you continued, flipping the magazine around to get a better look at the diagram. “There will be three sets: power, ignition, and ground. Look for the ones connected to the ignition—they’re usually red and yellow. Do you see them?”

“Wait… yes, yes, I see them!” she said, her breathing slightly more controlled now.

“Okay, here’s the tricky part,” you said carefully. “You need to strip the ends of the ignition wires—just the plastic coating—so the metal is exposed. Do you have anything sharp, like a knife or scissors?”

“Uh… I have a nail file,” she said after a moment.

“That works. Carefully scrape the plastic off, but don’t cut the wires. Just expose the metal underneath. Take your time.”

The sound of her scraping at the wires filled the silence, and you exchanged a nervous glance with Beomgyu, who gave you a reassuring nod.

“Alright,” she said finally. “I’ve got the wires stripped. What now?”

“Good. Now you’re going to twist the exposed ends of the ignition wires together. That should create a spark to start the car. But be ready—the second it starts, drive away. Don’t wait around.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’m doing it now.”

There was a faint crackling sound, followed by a sputtering noise. Then, suddenly, the low rumble of an engine filled the line.

“It worked!” she cried, her voice breaking with relief. “It actually worked!”

“Great job!” you said, unable to stop the smile forming on your face. “Now get out of there. Drive somewhere safe—somewhere well-lit with other people around. Don’t stop until you’re absolutely sure you’re safe.”

You could hear the roar of the car accelerating, the relief in her voice evident as she spoke. “I’m driving now. Oh, my God, thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re doing great,” you said, your own voice shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “Just focus on the road. Call us back if anything happens, okay?”

“Okay. I will,” she said. “Thank you again. I—I think I might’ve been dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Just keep driving,” you said softly. “That’s all that matters now.”

The line clicked off, leaving you and Beomgyu alone in the booth. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence.

Beomgyu let out a low whistle. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, tossing the magazine onto the desk. “But if it hadn’t… I don’t even want to think about it.”

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. “So… what do we do if someone else calls?”

You didn’t have an answer, your thoughts already spiraling with what-ifs. All you could do was hope the rest of the night stayed quiet.

The phone rang again, its shrill tone cutting through the uneasy silence that had settled in the booth. You adjusted your mic and nodded to Beomgyu. He patched it through with a flick of a switch, signaling with his finger for you to go ahead.

“You’re on the air,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering tension from the last call.

“Hey, yeah, uh, is this the emergency line?” a cheery voice on the other end asked.

“Yes, this is the emergency line. What’s your situation?” you asked, leaning forward, bracing yourself for whatever this might be.

“Well,” the man began, his tone casual, “I just wanted to let everyone know that Hanseung’s Pizza is open late tonight, and we’re offering a two-for-one deal on our large pepperoni pies!”

You froze, your hand gripping the edge of the desk. “Are you serious right now?”

“Totally serious! Best pizza in town!”

You groaned audibly and disconnected the call before the man could say another word. Leaning back in your chair, you rubbed your temples as Beomgyu snorted with laughter.

When you glanced at him through the glass, he made a circular gesture next to his temple, miming crazy.

“I swear,” you muttered, pulling your headphones off briefly, “this night is going to kill me.”

Beomgyu gave you a lopsided grin, but before he could say anything, the phone rang again.

“Here we go,” he said, flipping the switch to route the call to you.

You sighed, sliding your headphones back on. “You’re on the air,” you said cautiously.

“H-hello?” a man’s voice came through, low and shaky.

“This is the emergency line,” you said gently. “What’s going on?”

“I—I’m still at work,” the man said, his words trembling as he spoke. “I stayed late to finish up inventory, and I… I saw someone on the cameras. He’s outside. He’s wearing a white mask, and he’s holding a knife. He’s on the first floor now.”

Your heart sank as a chill ran down your spine. “Okay, stay calm,” you said quickly. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m on the second floor,” he said. “In the main office. But… but there’s nowhere to hide. The only room I can lock is the storage closet, and the lock is on the outside. What do I do?”

You frowned, running a hand through your hair as you exchanged a tense glance with Beomgyu. “Alright, listen to me. We’re going to figure this out. Let’s think through this carefully.”

“I don’t have much time,” the man whispered, panic rising in his voice. “He’s coming in. I can see him on the camera feed.”

You flipped through options in your mind, trying to think of anything that could give him a chance. The storage room could work, but locking it from the outside meant he’d be trapping himself unless…

“Wait,” you said suddenly. “Does your office phone system let you call internal lines? Like phones in other rooms?”

“Yes,” the man said quickly. “I can call any phone in the building from here.”

“Perfect,” you said, sitting up straighter. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to distract him. You’re going to call one of the phones on the first floor, and when it rings, he’ll go to investigate. Once he’s distracted, you’re going to quietly make your way down the back staircase and get out of the building. Got it?”

“Okay, okay,” the man said, his breathing quick and shallow. “I can do that. I think.”

“You can do this,” you said firmly. “Now, do you know which phone to call?”

“Yes,” he said. “The one by the front desk. It’s closest to where he is.”

“Good. Call it now,” you instructed. “Once it starts ringing, wait a few seconds to make sure he’s moving toward it. Then make your way out. Go as quietly as you can. Don’t hang up until you’re outside and safe, alright?”

“Okay,” he whispered.

There was a pause as you heard him pressing buttons on the phone. A few seconds later, the faint sound of a phone ringing echoed faintly through his line.

“He’s moving,” the man whispered. “I can see him on the camera. He’s going to the front desk.”

“Perfect,” you said, keeping your voice calm. “Now’s your chance. Go.”

The sound of his shaky breathing filled the line as he moved. You held your breath, listening intently as he made his way down the stairs.

“He’s still at the desk,” the man whispered. “I’m almost at the back door.”

“Keep going,” you urged. “You’re doing great.”

A faint creak came through the line, followed by a quiet click.

“I’m outside,” the man said, his voice trembling with relief. “I’m out.”

You exhaled, the tension in your chest loosening slightly. “Good. Get as far away from the building as you can. Get somewhere safe with other people around.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice breaking. “Thank you so much.”

“Just stay safe,” you said softly. “That’s all that matters.”

The line disconnected, leaving you staring at the phone for a moment, your mind racing with the implications of what had just happened.

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s two lives saved tonight,” he said. “Not bad for a couple of radio hosts, huh?”

You gave him a shaky smile, but the thought lingering in your mind was anything but reassuring.

Whoever was out there wasn’t done yet.

The phone rang again. For a moment, you and Beomgyu exchanged wary glances through the glass between your booths. After everything tonight, you’d learned to expect the worst. With a deep breath, you answered.

“You’re on the air,” you said, trying to maintain your composure.

“Bravo,” a smooth, amused voice purred on the other end. “Really. I’m impressed.”

Your brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“The way you’ve been handling these calls tonight,” the man continued, his tone dripping with mock admiration. “Guiding these poor, helpless souls to safety. It’s been a pleasure to listen to. You’re very clever, you know that?”

Something about his voice set you on edge—it wasn’t rushed or panicked like the others you’d spoken to tonight. It was calm. Too calm.

“Who is this?” you asked, your voice tightening.

“Let’s just say I’m… someone who’s been keeping an eye on things,” he replied, his tone playful. “And I have to admit, you’ve made my night much more entertaining than I anticipated.”

Your stomach twisted as realization hit you like a punch to the gut. “It’s you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

A low chuckle came through the line, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “Took you long enough,” he said, his voice laced with mockery. “Yes, it’s me. The one you’ve been so desperately trying to outsmart all night. And I have to say, you’ve done quite well.”

You clenched your jaw, gripping the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles turned white. “Why are you calling?”

“To see you squirm,” he teased. “And to thank you, of course. You’ve made this little game so much more fun than I thought it would be. Honestly, you’re much more entertaining than the usual people around here. They’re so… predictable.”

You refused to let him get under your skin, even as his voice sent an unbidden flush to your cheeks. You hated the way his words made your pulse quicken, a reaction you absolutely didn’t want to have.

“Is that all this is to you? A game?” you snapped, trying to focus on your anger rather than the unsettling heat rising in your face.

“Of course it’s a game,” he said smoothly. “But don’t misunderstand me—I’m not underestimating you. In fact, I think you’re the most interesting piece on the board. I wonder… how long can you keep this up? How long before I catch you slipping?”

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly forced yourself to focus. You couldn’t let him distract you with his taunting, no matter how strangely… confident and alluring his voice sounded. You hadn’t thought about dating or men since moving to the town—your life had been far too busy. And now here you were, getting flustered by the very man terrorizing the town.

“Do you have anything better to do than terrorize people?” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

He chuckled again, low and lazy, like you’d just amused him. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said, and you nearly choked on your own breath.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, don’t get so defensive,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m just saying, it’s refreshing. I like a bit of fire in my conversations. The others? They just scream and cry. Boring. But not you. I like that.”

Your grip on the desk tightened further, your mind racing. You couldn’t let him get to you, but the way he spoke—like he was in complete control, like he knew exactly how to unnerve you—it was maddening.

“What do you want?” you asked finally, forcing your voice to stay calm.

“For now? Just to chat,” he said casually. “I thought you deserved some recognition for your efforts. And maybe a little warning…”

Your stomach churned. “A warning?”

“Mhm,” he murmured. “You’re clever, but don’t think you’re untouchable. I’ve been generous so far, letting you play the hero. But don’t get too comfortable. I’m always watching, and if you’re not careful, this little game of ours might get a whole lot more personal.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, but you refused to let your fear show. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“No,” he said simply. “It’s supposed to excite you.”

The line went dead before you could respond, leaving you staring at the phone, your mind a chaotic mess of fear, anger, and, much to your dismay, something else you didn’t want to name.

Beomgyu’s voice crackled through your headset. “Uh… what the hell just happened?”

You turned to look at him, your face still flushed. “I think the killer just… flirted with me?”

Beomgyu blinked, his mouth falling open slightly before he shook his head. “This town is actually so messed up.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

The phone rang again, piercing through the tense silence that had settled in the booth. You and Beomgyu exchanged a glance, both of you bracing yourselves for whatever might come next. You adjusted your headphones and gestured for him to patch it through.

“You’re on the air,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease crawling up your spine.

“H-he’s coming,” a woman’s voice stammered, her tone high-pitched and frantic. “Oh God, the dead—they’ve risen! The dead are rising!”

You froze, caught off guard by the sheer hysteria in her voice. “Ma’am, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what’s happening,” you said, keeping your tone calm and firm. “Who’s coming? What do you mean the dead are rising?”

“It’s karma,” she said, her words tumbling out in a panicked rush. “I’ve done bad things. So many bad things. And now he’s coming for me."

“Okay, I need you to slow down,” you urged, sitting forward in your chair. “Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“I thought I was,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “But he’s here. He’s come back. They know what I’ve done. He knows—”

The line went dead.

“Hello? Ma’am?” you said quickly, checking the call screen. You tried dialing the number back, your heart pounding, but the line just rang and rang before going to voicemail.

Beomgyu leaned forward in his booth, frowning as he studied the call log. “That was Dr. Lee,” he said, his voice low.

“Dr. Lee?” you asked, your mind racing.

“She’s one of the town’s doctors,” Beomgyu explained, crossing his arms. “Well… was a doctor. She retired a couple of years ago, but she still gets called in sometimes when the clinic’s short-staffed. People around here have… mixed feelings about her. Some say she’s a great doctor, but others think she’s shady. There’ve been rumors, but nothing ever proven.”

You sat back in your chair, your mind swirling with questions. “She kept saying ‘karma.’ And something about the dead coming for her.”

Beomgyu shrugged, though his expression was uneasy. “She sounded genuinely freaked out.”

“She did,” you muttered, staring at the dead call screen on your monitor. “And she didn’t give me anything to go on. No location, no details… I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. “Think we should call the clinic? Maybe someone there knows what’s going on.”

You shook your head, though the idea was tempting. “If she wanted their help, she would’ve called them instead of us. I think… I think whatever’s happening, she doesn’t trust anyone in town. Or maybe she thought calling the emergency line was her only option.”

“Well, what do we do now?” Beomgyu asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “There’s not much we can do. She didn’t give us enough information to help. All we can do is wait and see if she calls back.”

Beomgyu nodded reluctantly, though his frown deepened. “Still, the whole ‘dead are rising’ thing? Sounds like someone’s cracking under pressure. Or maybe she’s just paranoid.”

“Maybe,” you said, though her words kept echoing in your mind. The dead have risen. Karma is coming for me.

It sounded ridiculous, but the sheer terror in her voice had felt real. And in this town, you’d already learned to expect the unexpected.

You leaned back in your chair, staring as a heavy silence settled over the room. You hated this helpless feeling, this sense that something was happening just out of your reach. But until she called back—or someone else did—there was nothing you could do except wait.

And worry.

The phone rang again, and you didn’t hesitate to answer this time, though the tension from the earlier calls still lingered in the air like a bad omen.

“You’re on the air,” you said, trying to sound calm and professional, though the weight of the night was starting to press down on you.

“H-hello?” a young voice stammered. “Is this… is this the emergency line?”

“Yes, it is,” you replied quickly. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Hyein,” she answered, her voice trembling. “I—I need help. Someone’s after me and my friends.”

Your stomach dropped. “Where are you, Hyein? Are you somewhere safe?”

“We’re at… we’re at this old junkyard,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “We were just hanging out, but now there’s this guy—he’s wearing a white mask, and—”

“Okay, Hyein, listen to me,” you interrupted, keeping your voice steady. “You need to find somewhere safe. Is there a place you can hide? A building, a car, anything?”

“Um, there’s a shed,” she said, her voice shaky. “But—”

Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted through the line, making your heart lurch.

“Hyein? Hyein, what’s happening?”

There was a muffled commotion on the other end, followed by… laughter?

A new voice chimed in, a boy’s voice, cracking as he burst into fits of giggles. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face, Hyein!”

“What the hell, Jansoon?!” Hyein shouted, her fear quickly replaced by anger. “You scared the crap out of me!”

You exhaled slowly, feeling your shoulders relax slightly. “Hyein, what’s going on?”

“It’s just Jansoon,” she said, her voice still shaking but now tinged with irritation. “He’s being an idiot, running around with a fake knife and a stupid mask. I thought—”

But before she could finish, another scream cut through the air—this one high-pitched and blood-curdling.

“Jansoon? Jansoon, stop messing around!” Hyein shouted, her voice rising in panic.

Then came the sound of something wet and grotesque—a sickening squelch, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground.

“Oh my God,” Hyein whispered, her voice trembling again. “Run! Everyone, run inside!”

“Hyein! Hyein, what’s happening?” you demanded, gripping the edge of the desk.

“A man,” she whispered, her breath hitching. “A man in a white mask—he just—he just killed Jansoon. He killed him!”

Your stomach churned as Beomgyu’s eyes went wide in the booth across from you.

“Hyein, listen to me,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. “You need to get somewhere safe. Stay with your friends and lock yourselves in. Keep the line open—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice shaky but determined. “We… we’re setting up a plan. We’ll distract him so we can get away. I’ll call you back soon.”

“Hyein, wait—”

The line went dead.

You sat there for a moment, staring at the monitor as your heart hammered in your chest. Slowly, you took off your headset and set it down on the desk, letting out a shaky breath.

“Did that really just happen?” Beomgyu asked, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

“Yeah,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair. “It did.”

Beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “This town is insane. First the doctor, now a group of kids in a junkyard? What’s next, a clown at a carnival?”

You couldn’t help but let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Don’t jinx it.”

He sighed, leaning back in his booth and staring at the ceiling. “This is so stressful. I mean, we’re just two people in a radio station. We’re not trained for this.”

“No, we’re not,” you agreed, rubbing your temples. “But we’re all these people have right now.”

Beomgyu nodded, though his expression was grim. “I just hope that girl and her friends make it out. That killer… he’s not messing around.”

The phone rang again, and this time, your heart jumped in anticipation. You quickly signaled to Beomgyu, who patched the call through.

“Hyein?” you asked urgently.

“It’s me,” she whispered, her voice trembling but steadier than before. “We—we’ve got a plan. We’re going to get out of here.”

You exhaled in relief but quickly focused. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

“There are four of us left,” she explained. “Minji’s going to watch him, make sure we know where he is at all times. Jaemin is going to distract him—make noise and lead him away from the van. Doyeon’s going to act as bait, keeping his attention long enough for me to grab Jansoon’s keys and get the van started.”

You felt a mix of pride and fear for these kids. “That’s… brave, Hyein. Really brave. Are you sure you can pull this off?”

“We don’t have a choice,” she replied, her voice tightening. “We can’t just wait for him to find us all. We have to do something.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Stick to the plan. Be quick, be careful, and don’t hesitate. You can do this.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ll call you back once we’re out.”

The line disconnected, leaving you and Beomgyu in an anxious silence.

“They’re kids,” Beomgyu muttered, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I know,” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the monitor as if willing Hyein to call back with good news.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited, your mind racing with every worst-case scenario. Finally, the phone rang again.

“Hyein?” you answered quickly.

“We did it,” she said, her voice breathless but triumphant. “We did the plan. Minji kept an eye on him while Jaemin distracted him with a bunch of noise. He fell for it—totally chased after Jaemin. Then Doyeon lured him even further away, and I grabbed the keys.”

“That’s incredible,” you said, genuine admiration in your voice. “You’re all so brave.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s not over yet. We got the van started, but there’s a problem. The doors to the junkyard—they’re stuck. Someone has to hold them open so we can drive through.”

Your heart sank. “Who’s going to do it?”

“I volunteered,” she said quietly.

“Hyein—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you back.”

The line went dead again, and you sat frozen, a deep dread settling over you.

Beomgyu leaned forward, his expression tight with worry. “They better not leave her behind.”

You didn’t respond, too focused on the gnawing feeling in your gut.

When the phone rang again, you answered immediately.

“Hyein?”

“I’m still here,” she said, her voice shaking. “I got the doors open, but…”

You heard her inhale sharply, and your stomach dropped.

“But what?” you asked.

“He’s here,” she whispered. “He’s right in front of me.”

Your grip tightened on the desk. “Hyein, listen to me. Don’t run. Don’t make any sudden moves. Just—just stay calm.”

She let out a choked sob. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” you said firmly, though your own voice trembled. “Just keep talking to me, okay? You’re doing great.”

There was a long silence on the other end, broken only by her quiet, panicked breaths.

“Hyein?”

“He’s…” Her voice was barely audible now. “He’s walking away.”

“What?” you asked, your mind reeling.

“He just… turned around and walked off. Into the forest.”

You blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “He left you? Just like that?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with confusion and fear. “Why? Why would he do that?”

You didn’t have an answer. None of this made sense.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “But you’re alive, Hyein. That’s what matters. Get to safety. Get back to your friends.”

“Okay,” she said softly, though her voice was still trembling. “Thank you.”

When the call ended, you sat back in your chair, your mind spinning.

“What the hell was that?” Beomgyu asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, staring at the empty screen. “But I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.”

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, and the tension in the room hung like a heavy fog. It was 3:17 a.m. when the phone rang again, the sharp sound cutting through the oppressive silence.

You leaned forward and answered, trying to keep the fatigue out of your voice. "You’re on the air."

For a moment, there was just static and the faint sound of someone breathing. Then a male voice, low and shaky, spoke.

"This is... this is so scary," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You straightened in your seat, your exhaustion replaced by unease. "What’s scary? Can you tell me where you are?"

"I’m at home," he said. "But I keep hearing things outside. Footsteps. Whistling. I’ve locked all the doors and windows, but it doesn’t feel like enough. This… this town isn’t supposed to be like this. It’s supposed to be quiet. Safe."

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. "I understand. It’s been a rough night for everyone, but you’ve done the right thing by securing your home. Stay inside. Stay quiet. Do you have anyone you can call to stay with you?"

"No," he muttered. "I live alone."

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and your chest tightened. "Okay. Listen to me. You’re not alone right now, all right? I’m here. If anything happens, you call me back immediately."

There was a long pause before he whispered, "Thanks."

Then the line went dead.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Beomgyu, who had been silently watching you from his booth, gave you a small nod of acknowledgment.

"You’re handling this like a pro," he said.

"I’m just trying to keep people calm," you replied, though the weight of the night was starting to press down on you.

The hours crawled by, the silence in the studio broken only by the occasional hum of equipment and the distant sound of a car passing on the street. It was around 4:30 a.m. when the phone rang again.

Your heart leapt as you quickly picked it up. "You’re on the air."

"It’s me," a familiar voice said.

"Hyein?" you asked, relief flooding your voice.

"Yeah," she said, and you could hear the exhaustion in her tone. "We made it. We’re home. All of us, safe. Thanks to you."

A smile tugged at your lips, the first genuine one of the night. "That’s great to hear, Hyein. I’m so glad you’re all okay."

"You… you really helped us," she continued, her voice soft. "I don’t think we would’ve made it without you. I mean, we were so scared, but you kept us focused. Gave us hope."

"That was all you," you replied. "You and your friends were brave. You came up with a plan and stuck to it. You saved yourselves."

There was a pause, and then she said, "Still… thank you."

"Of course," you said, your voice warm. "Now, get some rest. You’ve earned it."

"I will," she promised. "Goodnight… and be careful, okay? I don’t think this is over."

"Goodnight, Hyein," you said softly before the line went dead.

You set the phone down and leaned back in your chair, exhaling slowly. Beomgyu looked over at you, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion.

"At least there’s some good news," he said.

"Yeah," you murmured, though Hyein’s parting words echoed in your mind.

I don’t think this is over.

And deep down, you knew she was right.

The phone rang again, cutting through the brief calm. Unknown caller. You knew who it was even before you answered.

"Let me guess," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re calling to congratulate me on something, right?"

A soft, mocking chuckle came through the line, chilling and deliberate. "You’re starting to understand how this works," the killer said, his voice smooth, almost amused. "But no congratulations this time. Just a little... advice."

You gripped the phone tighter. "And what kind of advice would that be?"

"Dr. Lee," he drawled, his tone teasing. "She seemed... stressed earlier, didn’t she? Want to know what really happened to her?"

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

He chuckled again. "Pick something up for me, and maybe I’ll give you a clue. Check the alleyway behind your building. I left you a little surprise."

Beomgyu immediately leaned toward his microphone, shaking his head vehemently as he heard the exchange. “Don’t do it,” he mouthed, his face pale.

But the killer wasn’t done. "Go on," he said, his tone turning low and taunting. "Be brave. Or stay in your booth and let the mystery eat away at you. Your choice."

And then the line went dead.

"Don’t even think about it," Beomgyu said, his voice cutting through the silence. "He’s baiting you. It’s a trap."

You turned to him, trying to muster some confidence. "If it’s a trap, then it’s a bad one. He wouldn’t tip his hand like this if he really wanted me dead."

"Or maybe that’s exactly what he wants you to think," Beomgyu countered. "Don’t go."

But you were already getting up. "I’ll be fine. Stay here and keep the phones running."

Beomgyu sighed, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “you’re insane.”

You left the booth, stepping into the hallway. The silence of the empty building was oppressive, and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above did little to calm your nerves. Descending the staircase, each step felt louder than the last, echoing in the quiet.

At the bottom, you approached the glass front doors. Outside was nothing but darkness, the alleyway barely illuminated by a single flickering streetlamp in the distance.

You tried the door. Locked.

Frowning, you turned back and made your way behind the reception desk, where the backdoor led to the alleyway. Pushing it open, the cool night air hit you immediately, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and garbage.

The alley was narrow and lined with dumpsters, shadows stretching and shifting in the dim light. You hesitated, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders.

Then, you saw it.

An old, stained mattress lay discarded against the wall, and on top of it was something that made your stomach drop—a bloodied ID card.

Your hands trembled as you approached, the name and face on the card coming into focus. Dr. Lee.

You bent down, your breath hitching as you picked it up. The blood was dry but unmistakable, the edges of the card sticky.

You turned it over in your hands, a cold dread creeping up your spine. What did this mean? Was she—

A rustling sound.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. Slowly, you looked up, scanning the alleyway. There was nothing.

But past the fence, just beyond the edge of the alley, you could feel it—someone was watching you.

The air seemed to thicken, your skin prickling with unease. You couldn’t see anyone, but the presence was unmistakable.

Swallowing hard, you clenched the ID card in your hand and straightened up, forcing your legs to move. You turned and walked back toward the door, refusing to look back, even as the sensation of being watched grew stronger.

You reached for the door handle, only to find it wouldn’t budge. Locked.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, shaking the handle one more time as if sheer willpower could force it open. The sensation of being watched lingered, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

The sound of something faintly rustling outside sent a jolt of panic through you. You turned away from the door, scanning the dimly lit alley for another option. That’s when your eyes landed on the basement access door.

You cursed under your breath, knowing it was your only choice. "Great," you mumbled sarcastically, stepping toward it. Pushing the creaky door open, you descended the narrow staircase. The air grew colder with each step, the faint smell of mildew and rust wrapping around you like a damp blanket.

At the bottom, you reached a landing, the dim glow of an old overhead light flickering ominously. Shadows danced across the walls, making everything feel smaller and more claustrophobic.

Trying the first door, you found it locked. So was the next. You kept moving, your footsteps echoing faintly in the eerie silence. Finally, you reached a door that opened easily.

You stepped inside cautiously, your phone flashlight illuminating what could only be described as the janitor’s office—or, more accurately, a forgotten relic of one. The room was cramped and chaotic, filled with old supplies, broken equipment, and… mannequins?

You froze for a moment, your light catching the lifeless forms of several mannequins standing in one corner. Their chipped paint and blank expressions made your stomach twist. Who keeps mannequins in a basement office?

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “this is officially creepy.”

Pushing past the eerie sight, your flashlight settled on the far wall, where a corkboard hung. You stepped closer, curiosity outweighing your unease.

The board was covered in newspaper clippings, photographs, and handwritten notes. Your pulse quickened as you scanned the array of items.

The photos were of people—townsfolk, by the looks of it. Some of the faces you recognized, including Dr. Lee. Others were strangers. Some pictures had red X’s drawn across them. Others were circled.

The clippings were just as unsettling. Headlines like “Local Man Disappears Without a Trace” and “Small-Town Tragedy: Young Man Found Dead” leapt out at you, along with handwritten notes like “Knew too much” and “Still watching.”

“Jesus,” you muttered, taking a step back.

You huffed, grabbing the corkboard from the wall and tucking it under your arm. Whatever this was, it wasn’t staying down here. You needed to get it upstairs, show Beomgyu, and figure out what the hell was going on.

The mannequins seemed closer than before as you turned to leave, but you tried to shake off the unease crawling up your spine.

"Don’t think about it," you muttered, stepping back out into the hallway.

With the corkboard in tow, you made your way back toward the stairs, trying not to think about how quiet everything felt.

Back in the booth, you placed the corkboard on the desk, your fingers trembling as you leaned over it. Beomgyu hovered behind you, peering at the chaotic arrangement of photos, clippings, and notes.

"Okay," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "This is a pattern. It has to be."

Your eyes scanned the board feverishly, focusing on the photos of the townsfolk. There were three with red X’s—you recognized two as victims you’d already heard about. The doctor’s photo, Dr. Lee, was circled in red but had no X, at least not yet.

The notes were cryptic but telling: "Knew too much." "Always works late."

Your heart skipped a beat as you landed on a photo of a man you vaguely recognized from a newspaper clipping you’d seen earlier—James Choi, the owner of the general store. His picture was circled too, with a note scribbled beside it: “Stays late, alone.”

You felt your stomach churn. “Beomgyu, who’s James Choi?”

Beomgyu squinted at the board. "James? Oh, he runs that little general store by the gas station. Nice guy, kind of quiet. Why?"

You jabbed your finger at his photo. “He’s next. Look at the notes. It’s all here—he works late, and the killer knows it. We need to call him now.”

Beomgyu grabbed the phone without hesitation, quickly dialing the number written on a post-it note you’d found pinned to the corner of the board. You paced nervously as the phone rang.

"Come on, pick up," Beomgyu muttered.

Finally, a voice answered. “Hello?”

“Mr. Choi?” Beomgyu asked, his voice tight. “This is from the late-night show—listen, we don’t have much time. Are you still at the store?”

James sounded confused. “Uh, yeah? Why? What’s this about?”

You leaned in, speaking quickly. “You’re in danger. You need to leave now. Grab your keys, get in your car, and just drive. Don’t ask questions, don’t wait—just go.”

There was a pause. “Danger? What are you talking about? This some kind of prank?”

“It’s not a prank,” you snapped, your voice rising in urgency. “There’s someone—”

The sound of something crashing interrupted James on the other end of the line, followed by a low, guttural noise that made your blood run cold.

“James?” Beomgyu called, his voice cracking. “James, what’s going on?”

The line went silent for a moment, the faint sound of labored breathing coming through. And then—

“Well, well,” came a familiar, taunting voice.

Your stomach dropped as the killer’s smooth, mocking tone filled the line. “You tried,” he said, almost lazily, like he had all the time in the world. “I’ll give you credit for that. But you’re just not fast enough, are you?”

Your hands clenched into fists. “You son of a—”

“Ah-ah,” the killer interrupted, a smirk evident in his voice. “No need for name-calling. I’m just doing what I do best. And you? Well, you’re doing what you do best—sitting in that little booth, thinking you can save people. How’s that working out for you so far?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Why are you doing this?”

He laughed, the sound cold and detached. “You really think I’m going to explain myself? What kind of killer would I be if I gave away all my secrets? Let’s just say… I like keeping you on your toes. It’s fun watching you try so hard.”

Beomgyu’s face was pale, his eyes wide as he stared at the phone. “You’re sick,” he muttered under his breath.

The killer ignored him. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “The game’s far from over.”

And then the line went dead.

You stared at the phone, your heart pounding in your chest. Beomgyu looked at you, his face etched with fear.

“What do we do now?” he asked quietly.

You took a shaky breath, your mind racing. “We keep going. We figure this out.”

Beomgyu nodded, though his hands were trembling. "And what if we can’t?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You sat hunched over the corkboard, piecing through the clues when Beomgyu cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "Hey, maybe you should go back to the janitor’s room. There might be something we missed."

You glanced up at him, skeptical. “Like what? I already grabbed the corkboard.”

He shrugged, fidgeting with his pen. “I don’t know. It just feels like… that place might have more to it. There’s no way someone went through all the effort of pinning up all this stuff and didn’t leave more behind.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. He wasn’t wrong. “Fine,” you said, pushing back from the desk. “I’ll check again. Just… stay here and keep an ear on the phones.”

Beomgyu nodded quickly, relief evident on his face. “Be careful, okay?”

You didn’t bother replying as you headed back downstairs, retracing your steps. The basement was even creepier now, the flickering light above casting strange, shifting shadows along the walls. Pushing the janitor's office door open again, you stepped inside, the stale air immediately making your nose crinkle.

The mannequins were still there, standing motionless in the corner like silent sentinels. You forced yourself to ignore them, focusing instead on the cluttered room. You rummaged through drawers, boxes, and even under the dusty desk, finding nothing but old cleaning supplies and forgotten tools.

Just as you were about to give up, your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic under a pile of papers. You pulled it out—a key, small and rusted, with no label.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, standing up and looking around. “What do you open?”

You left the janitor’s office and started trying the key on every locked door in the hallway. It wasn’t until you reached the very last door—a heavy, steel one with a faded "Storage" sign on it—that the key finally turned.

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit storage room filled with shelves of old files, boxes, and equipment. You stepped inside, the smell of dust and mildew filling your nose.

Grabbing your phone for light, you began rifling through the shelves. Most of it seemed mundane—inventory lists, outdated maintenance logs, and other boring documents. But then you found a box marked “Incident Reports.”

You opened it, pulling out a stack of files. One in particular caught your eye—a report on someone named Sim Jaeyun.

You skimmed the pages, your brow furrowing as you read. According to the report, Sim Jaeyun was a young man who had been found dead in the town’s river. The official cause of death was ruled as reckless behavior, with high levels of alcohol detected in his blood.

But something didn’t add up.

You found another document tucked in the back of the file—a copy of the autopsy report, signed by none other than Dr. Lee. The details in the report were vague, almost suspiciously so. It noted the alcohol levels but didn’t mention any other significant findings.

Flipping through more of the file, you found a handwritten note from a police officer who had initially investigated the scene: “Something doesn’t feel right. Jaeyun was a good swimmer.”

Your stomach churned as you read on. The note went on to mention that Jaeyun had been arguing with someone at a local bar the night he died. The name of the person he argued with was blacked out, but whoever it was, they were never questioned.

Your mind reeled. Something about this was definitely off. Why would Dr. Lee sign off on such a suspicious autopsy? And why had no one followed up on the blacked-out name?

You gathered the files, clutching them tightly as you made your way back upstairs. Your thoughts were racing, pieces of the puzzle slowly starting to fit together.

Beomgyu looked up from his seat as you entered the booth, his eyes widening when he saw the stack of papers in your hands. “What did you find?”

You dropped the files on the desk, flipping them open. “A death report. Sim Jaeyun. Found in the river, officially ruled as reckless behavior and alcohol poisoning. But…”

“But what?” Beomgyu prompted, leaning closer.

You pointed to the autopsy report. “It doesn’t add up. Just alcohol levels that don’t make sense. And guess who signed the autopsy?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened. “Dr. Lee?”

“Bingo,” you said grimly. “And there’s more—apparently, Jaeyun got into an argument with someone at a bar that night, but the name was blacked out in the report. Whoever it was, they were never questioned.”

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “So, what are you saying? That Jaeyun didn’t just… fall into the river drunk?”

You nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Someone’s been covering this up. And I think it ties back to everything that’s happening now.”

Beomgyu stared at the files, his face pale. “This just keeps getting worse.”

You didn’t respond, your mind already racing with what to do next.

You tapped your pen against the desk anxiously, the silence between you and Beomgyu growing heavier by the second. Finally, you broke it. “We need to talk to someone who knew Jaeyun. Someone who can tell us more about what happened that night.”

Beomgyu nodded, already pulling up the town directory on his computer. “There were names listed in some of those files,” he muttered, scrolling through the screen. “Here—Kim Jihoon. He was one of Jaeyun’s friends.”

“Call him,” you said firmly, leaning forward.

Beomgyu hesitated for a second but then grabbed the phone, dialing the number. You both waited as the line rang, the sound stretching your nerves thin.

Finally, a groggy voice answered, “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Hi, this is Beomgyu from the town’s late-night talk show,” Beomgyu began cautiously. “We’re trying to get some information about Sim Jaeyun. You were listed as one of his friends. Do you have a moment to talk?”

There was a pause on the other end before Jihoon spoke again, his voice laced with confusion. “Jaeyun? Why are you asking about him? He’s been gone for years.”

You leaned toward the mic, speaking gently but urgently. “We’re trying to piece together what really happened to him, Jihoon. There are some things about his death that don’t make sense. Can you tell us what you remember from that night?”

Another long pause. Then Jihoon let out a sigh. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but… sure. I’ll tell you what I can.”

You exchanged a glance with Beomgyu, who nodded for you to continue. “Okay,” you said. “Start from the beginning. What was that night like?”

“It was supposed to be a fun night,” Jihoon began, his voice tinged with sadness. “We were celebrating Jaeyun. He’d just gotten a big promotion at work, and we all went out to the bar to party. Everything was fine at first—laughing, drinking, just having a good time. But then…”

He trailed off, and you prompted him gently. “But then what?”

Jihoon sighed again. “Jaeyun got into an argument with someone. I didn’t see who it was—I was across the bar at the time, talking to someone else. But I heard voices getting louder, and when I looked over, Jaeyun was face-to-face with this guy. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it looked heated.”

Your grip on the pen tightened. “Did you see what the guy looked like at all? Anything about him?”

“No,” Jihoon admitted. “It was dark, and the bar was crowded. I only saw his back. But… I don’t know, there was something off about the guy. The way he was standing, the way he moved… it gave me a bad feeling.”

“What happened after that?” you asked.

“Jaeyun stormed out of the bar,” Jihoon said. “The guy followed him. I tried to go after them, but by the time I got outside, they were both gone. I looked around, called out for Jaeyun, but… nothing. It was like they’d disappeared.”

“And then?”

“The next day, I heard the news,” Jihoon said, his voice breaking slightly. “Jaeyun was found dead in the river. They said he’d been drinking and must’ve fallen in, but…”

“But you didn’t believe that,” you finished for him.

“No,” Jihoon said firmly. “Jaeyun wasn’t that kind of guy. He could hold his liquor, and he would’ve been careful. It didn’t make sense then, and it doesn’t make sense now.”

You sat back in your chair, your mind racing. Jaeyun had argued with someone—someone who followed him out of the bar. Someone who might have been responsible for his death.

Beomgyu’s voice cut through the static over the intercom, calm but clipped. “The other line’s ringing. I’ll take care of it.”

You nodded to yourself, still holding the phone to your ear. “Alright.”

Turning your attention back to Jihoon, you settled into your chair and tried to ground yourself.

“Jaeyun was just… he was the kind of guy everyone liked, you know? He always made time for people. Even when he was busy, he’d stop to check in. If you were upset about something, he’d notice—he always noticed.” Jihoon’s voice broke slightly, and you could hear him swallow hard.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “He sounds like a really good person. Someone who didn’t deserve what happened.”

“No, he didn’t,” Jihoon agreed softly. “He’d do these little things, you know? Like, one time, I forgot my wallet, and he just covered everything without even saying anything. He didn’t want people to feel bad, didn’t want anyone to feel like a burden. That was just Jaeyun.”

You found yourself smiling faintly, despite the grim topic. “He must’ve been an amazing friend to have.”

“He was,” Jihoon said, his voice thick with emotion. “Losing him… it wasn’t just hard. It was—” He paused, and you could hear him take a deep breath. “It was like losing the glue that held us all together. He was the one who brought us all into the same orbit.”

Your chest tightened as you listened, the weight of Jihoon’s words pressing down on you. Jaeyun had been more than just a name on a file or a tragic story in the town’s history. He’d been a real person, someone loved deeply by those around him.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon,” you said softly. “I wish I could’ve met him. He sounds like he left a mark on everyone he knew.”

“He did,” Jihoon whispered. “And that’s what makes it so hard to believe… what they said about him, that he was drunk and reckless. That’s not him. It never felt right to me, even back then.”

You nodded, the puzzle pieces in your mind continuing to shift and rearrange themselves. “I understand. And I think you’re right to trust your gut. There’s more to this story, and I’m trying to piece it together.”

Jihoon let out a shaky laugh. “Thanks. I don’t know why you care so much—"

The lights in the booth flickered and then abruptly went out, plunging you into darkness. You froze, the silence suddenly suffocating.

A second later, Beomgyu’s voice came over the intercom, slightly muffled but urgent. “Uh… the power just went out in the whole building. I think you’ll need to go down to the basement and reset the breaker. I’d do it, but I’m kinda stuck here monitoring the calls.”

You clicked your flashlight on, its narrow beam cutting through the pitch-black room. “Got it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Stay up here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll keep an eye on everything,” Beomgyu promised, his voice a little shaky but resolute.

You stood up, your flashlight casting eerie shadows as you moved toward the booth door. The air felt colder now, heavier, as though the power outage had sucked the life out of the building.

Exiting the booth, you walked down the hall toward the staircase. Every creak of the floor beneath your feet made your stomach tighten.

The door to the basement was slightly ajar when you reached it, creaking as you pushed it open. You descended the stairs, each step echoing loudly in the stillness.

The basement smelled of damp concrete and old cardboard. The beam of your flashlight bounced across the walls, revealing cluttered shelves, dusty equipment, and the same door to the janitor's room you’d searched earlier.

Something felt... wrong.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs, your breath catching as the sensation of eyes on you. It was that prickling feeling, the kind that made the hairs on your neck stand up.

You swung the flashlight around again, the beam slicing through the shadows. Nothing. “Get it together,” you muttered under your breath.

Moving cautiously, you made your way to the breaker panel in the corner of the room. The metal door was slightly ajar, as though someone had been there recently. You frowned and reached out, pulling it open.

The switches were all flipped off. You began resetting them, flipping each one back to its original position. As the last switch clicked into place, you heard a faint sound behind you—a scuffling, like a shoe sliding against the concrete floor.

You froze.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice echoing in the stillness.

No response.

Your flashlight beam darted across the room again, settling on nothing but dusty shelves and discarded junk. The sensation of being watched was stronger than ever, the weight of unseen eyes boring into your back.

Swallowing hard, you gripped the flashlight tighter and turned back toward the stairs. “It’s just your imagination,” you told yourself. “Just nerves.”

But as you climbed the stairs, the creak of a floorboard behind you made your blood run cold. You spun around, flashlight trembling in your hand, but there was no one there.

Heart pounding, you hurried up the remaining steps and shoved the door open, stepping back into the main hall. The lights flickered back on, flooding the building with their harsh fluorescent glow.

You walked back toward the booths, your thoughts still caught on Jihoon’s words, and your pulse quickened when you noticed something strange—the door to Beomgyu’s booth was open. Beomgyu never left it open when he was working.

Curiosity and concern flared in equal measure as you stepped inside. “Beomgyu?” you called softly, but the booth was empty.

The faint smell of his cologne lingered in the air, but there was no sign of him. You frowned, glancing around, trying to spot anything out of place. The silence felt oppressive, thick, like the air itself was watching you.

Turning back toward the hallway, you froze.

A figure was walking toward you, their movements deliberate and slow, as if savoring every step. They were dressed in black, a pale white mask covering their face, and in their hand gleamed a knife.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Thinking fast, you slammed the door shut and locked it just as the figure lunged. The door rattled violently as they crashed into it, and you stumbled back, gasping, your chest heaving.

The sound of the knife scraping against the door sent shivers down your spine.

You turned, instinctively seeking safety, only to feel your stomach drop.

Someone was standing in your booth.

On the other side of the glass separating Beomgyu’s booth from yours, the killer stood, their white mask tilted ever so slightly as if they were studying you.

You stared in disbelief, your pulse pounding in your ears as the killer leaned casually against the glass. Slowly, they raised their knife and tapped the blade against the glass, the metallic tink tink tink reverberating in the confined space.

"Hey there," their distorted voice drawled, smug and taunting. “Miss me?”

You didn’t answer, too frozen by the weight of the moment.

They chuckled, the sound muffled but chilling. “C’mon, let’s make this interesting. Open the door for me. I just want to play.”

Your stomach churned, and you shook your head, your voice trembling but firm. “Where’s Beomgyu?”

The killer tilted their head, tapping the knife against the glass again. “Oh, he’s around,” they said, their tone lilting, as if they were enjoying a private joke.

Panic clawed at your insides. “What did you do to him?”

The killer leaned closer to the glass, the mask distorting their features into a sinister blur. “Why so worried? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about yourself?”

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to hold their gaze despite the fear threatening to crush you. “What do you want?”

They leaned back slightly, tapping the glass once more, their knife dragging a slow, deliberate line down its surface. “For now? I just want to see how long you can last.”

The killer’s mask shifted slightly as he glanced toward your desk, his knife tapping idly against the glass again. “Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

You glanced at the desk, realizing he was looking at the scattered clues you’d been piecing together: the newspaper clippings, the notes, the photo of Jaeyun.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your hands were trembling at your sides.

The killer tilted his head, almost amused. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been digging, haven’t you? Going through things you shouldn’t, asking questions. Connecting dots. You’re smarter than they gave you credit for.”

You clenched your fists, anger bubbling up beneath your fear. “Why are you doing this?” you demanded, your voice sharper now. “What’s the point of all this? Why terrorize the town? Why kill all these people?”

The killer let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound muffled behind his mask. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

You glared at him, heart pounding. “Then explain it. Make me understand.”

The killer stood straighter, the playful tilt of his head replaced with something colder, darker. His voice dropped, the teasing edge gone. “This isn’t random. This isn’t chaos for the sake of chaos. This is revenge.”

You froze. “Revenge? For what?”

“For Jaeyun,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For what happened to him. For what they did to his life.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket. “You’re doing all of this… because of Jaeyun?”

The killer nodded slowly. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did. Alone. Cast aside. Written off as a reckless drunk when everyone knew that wasn’t who he was.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces clicking together in your mind. “You… you think someone in this town killed him. Don’t you?”

The killer laughed again, but this time it was bitter, full of venom. “Think? Oh, no. I don’t think. I know.”

Your pulse raced as you stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. “Then why target the town? Why not just go after the person responsible?”

The killer leaned closer to the glass, his voice low and menacing. “Because they all played a part. They turned a blind eye. They lied. They covered it up. And now? They’re going to pay.”

You shook your head, panic and disbelief swirling in your chest. “This isn’t justice. This is—this is insanity!”

“Call it whatever you want,” the killer said, stepping back slightly, his knife still glinting in his hand. “But by the time I’m done, everyone will know the truth. And Jaeyun will finally get the justice he deserves.”

You stared at him through the glass, trying to piece everything together. “What connects you to Jaeyun?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly. “Why are you doing this in his name? What was he to you?”

The killer chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through the air like a warning. “Oh, come on,” he said, tilting his head mockingly. “You’ve been working so hard. And yet you haven’t figured it out?”

You frowned, frustration mounting. “Stop playing games and just tell me!”

Before you could say anything else, he suddenly stopped pacing, his hand reaching up to the edge of his mask. “You want answers?” he asked, his tone laced with something dangerous. “Then pay attention.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as his fingers gripped the mask. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the face underneath.

Your breath caught in your throat. “No,” you whispered, stumbling back a step. “That’s not possible…”

It was Jaeyun.

His face was unmistakable, though there was something different now—harsher. His features were gaunter, his eyes darker, filled with a cold fire that sent a chill down your spine.

“But—you’re dead,” you stammered, shaking your head in disbelief. “They said you were dead. I saw the reports.”

A grim smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Dead?” he echoed, his voice dripping with venom. “I was supposed to be. The man who killed me certainly thought I was.”

“Then how are you alive?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He stepped closer to the glass, his expression hard. “Sheer will,” he said, his tone icy. “I wasn’t supposed to survive that night. But I did. Barely. They threw me in the river, thinking they’d silenced me for good. But they didn’t count on me crawling out, broken, bleeding, but alive.”

Your stomach churned as you processed his words. “Who did this to you?”

Jaeyun’s jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. “The man who killed me is now the town’s mayor,” he spat, his voice thick with hatred. “That promotion was supposed to be mine. I earned it. But he couldn’t stand the idea of me taking what he thought was his. So he decided to remove the competition—permanently.”

Your breath hitched. “They covered it up,” you murmured, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“Of course they did,” Jaeyun sneered. “They spun a pretty little story. Made me out to be reckless, irresponsible. A drunk who couldn’t handle himself. And everyone believed it.”

“And no one knew you were alive?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He shook his head, his expression cold. “Not a soul. They all thought they were free of me. That their secret was safe.” He leaned closer to the glass, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “But I’ve been watching. Waiting. And now, I’m back.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “You’re doing all of this… to get revenge?”

Jaeyun smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Revenge? Justice? Call it whatever you want. But this town took everything from me. My life. My future. And now, I’m going to take everything from them.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. “This isn’t justice, Jaeyun. This is—this is murder.”

“They murdered me first,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. “They thought they could bury me and move on. But they were wrong. And now, they’re going to pay.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. All you could do was stare at the man in front of you—the man who had risen from the dead, consumed by a need for vengeance.

Jaeyun’s gaze stayed locked on yours, his lips curving into a sly smile. He leaned against the glass, tapping his knife against it rhythmically, the sound unnerving in the silence. “Come on,” he murmured, his tone low and coaxing. “Open the door. Let’s talk properly. Face to face.”

Jaeyun’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing as you stood your ground. He straightened, stepping closer to the glass, and his voice dropped into a darker, more threatening tone. “You think you're safe in there?” He tapped the knife against the glass again, this time with more force, his breath coming faster as his frustration grew. “You really think you can stop me by just hiding?”

When you didn’t respond, he slammed his fist against the glass with a deafening crack. The force rattled the walls, sending a shiver down your spine. He glared at you, his chest heaving, rage and amusement mixed in his expression. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Open the damn door.”

You stiffened, gripping the edge of the desk in front of you as if it could anchor you. “Why would I do that?” you asked, your voice sharper than you felt. “So you can kill me too? No thanks.”

His smile didn’t falter, but his eyes glinted with something almost playful. “Kill you?” he said, feigning offense. “Why would I do that? You’re the only one who’s actually listened to me. The only one who’s tried to understand.”

“Forgive me if I don’t find that comforting,” you shot back, but your voice wavered slightly.

He tilted his head, the knife pausing mid-tap. “You’re scared,” he observed, his voice soft, almost gentle. “But you don’t have to be. I’m not your enemy.”

“Not my enemy?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’ve been terrorizing this town for days. You killed people, Jaeyun.”

“They deserved it,” he said flatly, the warmth in his tone vanishing. “Every single one of them was complicit. They lied. They covered it up. They let him get away with it.”

“And Beomgyu?” you demanded, anger rising in your chest. “What did he ever do to you?”

Jaeyun hesitated, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second. “Collateral damage,” he said eventually, his tone colder now. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You’re right,” you said, your voice firm despite the fear twisting in your gut. “I don’t. Because what you’re doing isn’t justice—it’s just more bloodshed.”

His expression darkened, but then he sighed, as if trying to calm himself. He stepped back from the glass slightly, sheathing the knife at his side. “You’re different,” he said after a moment, his tone soft again. “You’ve got a brain. You’ve been piecing this together all night. You know I’m not lying about what happened to me. So why not help me? Why not open the door and join me?”

You stared at him, stunned. “Join you?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “You said it yourself—this isn’t justice. But maybe you could help me make it right. Maybe you could keep me… grounded.”

“You’re insane,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“Am I?” he countered, stepping closer to the glass again. “Or am I the only one who’s willing to do what it takes? Think about it—you’ve seen what this town is like. Corrupt, rotten to its core. You’ve been digging up its secrets all night. Do you really think anyone else is going to pay for what they’ve done?”

You hesitated, his words stirring something in you. The town was corrupt. The mayor had gotten away with murder. And Jaeyun… as twisted as his methods were, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Seeing your hesitation, his smile returned, wider now. “That’s it,” he said softly, his voice almost soothing. “You’re starting to see it, aren’t you? This town doesn’t deserve your loyalty. They’ll betray you the first chance they get. But I won’t. You and me, we could fix this. Together.”

Your grip on the desk tightened, your knuckles white. “No,” you said finally, your voice shaking but resolute. “I’m not opening that door. I’m not like you.”

Jaeyun’s expression shifted, his smile fading. “Pity,” he murmured, his tone more disappointed than angry. “You would’ve made a good ally.”

He turned his back to you, walking toward the door to your booth. But before he left, he glanced over his shoulder, a dark smile curling his lips again. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said softly. “One way or another.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you trembling in the eerie silence of the room.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny @kiripimaspillow

@wensurr

Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

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annasellheim · 2 days ago

Text

We're sitting at the table I'm glaring at them. These heroes ("The Big Three" as they are known in the industry) are questioning me? ME? They're questioning ME???

These motherfuckers made me come to the Cape Crusaders big, tacky mansion to justify my actions to them?

The thing that pisses me off the most about their reservations is the fact that what I do IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than anything they could possibly do. These idiots just punch bad guys in the face and send them to prison, just so they can escape and start the cycle over from scratch.

I've already saved so many more lives than they ever will. I've made more of a positive impact on this planet than anyone will ever know.

Because my power is to stop disasters, and the most effective way to do that is to prevent them.

No one knows how many wars I've stopped before they began, how many diseases I found vaccines for before they became epidemics, how many cities and countries I've helped create infrastructure for so they could avoid being over run by natural disasters.

And my job is made even more difficult than it sounds because no one can truly fathom how bad things would be if I don't use my powers. I have to fight ppl tooth and nail to get it anything to happen because they don't know how bad it'll be if it's not acted on.

No one sees what I see. They don't feel what I feel. They'll never know the particular ache in my chest that somehow has has an entire narrative wrapped in it whenever a potential disaster hits me. An ache that is so powerful that it's made my knees buckle multiple times.

And the feeling doesn't dissipate until the disaster is fully prevented. It means that when I know something needs to be done, I have to make sure it's dealt with, or-

It's destroying me in a way. Doing so much, all the time, with no compensation or recognition.

The heroes at least know about my powers and know that I have nipped a bunch of really bad shit in the bud.

The villains thing has come up before and it's irritating. For years I thought it was because they were lazy and just were angling for help over shit that I didn't have time for, and in the big picture, didn't matter. Asking for even more help than I already provide.

I'm at my limit already.

But looking at these three at this table in this enormous, extravagant kitchen, it hits me how wrong I am.

These heroes don't have my powers. They can't foresee and stop disasters. For all they know, these clowns that rob banks and occasionally attack and murder people, could cause major disasters down the line. I'm not perfect, I can't stop all disasters. I have to sleep and eat and work a fucking day job.

I still feel residual aches from time to time for every disaster I've failed to stop.

They aren't trying to get more free work out of me, they're trying their best to figure out what villains can do major damage in the future.

They're scared.

"So, the way my powers work," I say while leaning back in my chair, "is that at some point, I know something will go from being an issue to a problem to a disaster. I can only intervene when I know it'll be disastrous, otherwise I can't use my powers, it's like they don't exist. Until something goes over the thresh hold of becoming a potential disaster, it's like I have no powers at all."

"How do you know when a disaster is going to happen? Is it like a vision?"

"It's more internal than that- it's like a feeling I guess...I'm not sure how to articulate it."

Huh, no one has ever bothered to ask me anything specific about my powers or the work I do. I don't have a lot of answers if they keep prodding.

"So, yeah, it's not that I'm neutral to villains, it's just all of the ones you guys been dealing with don't-" I yawned "- don't give me that feeling. I'll let you know if it changes."

I put my head in my hands. Fuck, I'm so tired. It's not like I can stop being a hero, I see the alternate world where I don't intervene, I feel it. But I'm so, so tired.

"Go take a nap."

My head shoots up, "What?"

The Masked Crusader (dumb ass name btw, just like his dumbass mansion) says it again, "Go take a nap. I'll make us all dinner. Go use my guest room and pass out for a bit.

Damn it, did I say I was tired out loud? Or was mind reading one of his superpowers? I can't remember, things have been so overwhelming recently, my memory is shot.

"No, the Masked Crusader can't read minds, that's me" Brainiac says.

Oh. Shit. Right.

"We just, we see you burning out, let us support you for once," chimed in the Singing Banshee.

This was not how I was expecting this conversation to go AT ALL.

Banshee continues, "You've got a lot of walls up, probably from years of running yourself into the ground saving thousands of people without any help. So, we're now going to help you."

"That's not a request by the way," the Masked Crusader says as he slides me a glass of water. "We're doing it whether you like it or not."

Shit, I hadn't even realized I was thirsty. Have I drank any water at all today?

And then *BOOM* I get hit with it- the feeling of an impending but preventable disaster. But it's different than any other disasters I "felt" before.

It's me... It's me, in the near future, collapsing and being unable to do anything about, well anything. I won't be able to stop future disasters, hell, I won't be able to function. And the only way to prevent it was to lean on these people.

This is a lot.

I chugged the rest of the water and wiped my mouth.

"Ok, thanks..." I whispered.

It's too much to think about right now. It's too much to feel right now. I'm not used to, I don't know, being taken care of. I don't know how to be supported.

I'll figure out a way to properly navigate this later. Right now I need to lay the hell down.

You're a superhero who specializes exclusively in stopping disasters. The other heroes just don't understand why you need to remain neutral to the villains…

#autobio #it's 5am time for me to lay down #proud #creative writing #writing #burn out #mental health #writing prompt

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archiveofvirtue · 2 days ago

Text

lovely kook!reader’s favorite thing to do is tease jj, never missing an opportunity to do so, especially when he is so unbelievably charming and desirable

content / jj maybank x fem!reader, fluffy, jj and reader being annoyingly cute with each other, slightly suggestive, some not so innocent touching, jj being a flirt, kissing, barry

Your laugh echoed like a melody and your silky hair was catching the sunlight as you darted around John B’s chateau, JJ hot on your heels. “y/n! you can’t run forever!” JJ called, his voice laced with mischief. His sandy blonde hair was a tangled mess, and his crooked grin only grew wider as he gained on you.

“Stop! JJ, I mean it!” You shrieked between laughs, your heart pounding with excitement and a little anxiety. You glanced back over your shoulder, smirking. “You’re insane!”

“Yeah, insane for you, princess!” JJ shot back, doubling his speed.

The other Pogues were scattered around the chateau. John B was busy messing with the HMS Pogue’s engine, Pope and Kie were prepping some snacks, and Sarah lounged on the nearby hammock, watching the chaos unfold with amused eyes.

“You two are exhausting,” Sarah called lazily, shielding her eyes from the sun.

You bolted toward the water, feet kicking up sand. But so was JJ, his footsteps coming closer and closer.

“JJ, don’t you dare—” you warned, but before you could finish, he was on you. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground as you squealed.

“Gotcha!” JJ teased, his voice buzzing with excitement. You squirmed in his grip, half laughing, half furious. His lips barely brushed against the back of your neck, yet you felt goosebumps all over your body, his closeness alone leaving you breathless.

“Let me go!” You demanded, trying to wiggle free, but JJ just adjusted his hold, walking you toward the water like it was his life’s mission.

“C’mon, y/n. Don’t be such a kook about it,” he teased, shooting you a smirk that you definitely didn’t find charming. nope. not even a little.

“JJ Maybank, you better not!” you threatened, voice sharp despite your giggles. “I’m serious!”

But JJ, being JJ, didn’t care. He stepped onto the dock, the cool water splashing up his calves. You shrieked again, kicking wildly as you tried to free yourself.

And before you could argue, he let go, the water splashing in all directions as you plunged in, screams cut short by the force, while JJ stood there, hands on his hips, feeling victorious.

“See? Not so bad!” he said smugly, grinning down at the spot where you’d gone under.

You cursed him in your head, but what he could do, you could definitely do better.

Holding your breath for as long as humanly possible you stayed under the water, muffled voices reaching you. And when a few more seconds passed and you didn’t resurface, JJ’s grin started to fade.

“y/n?” he called, leaning over to peer into the water. The waves rippled, but there was no sign of you. “Okay, stop messing around. This isn’t funny.”

Another moment passed. JJ’s heart dropped like an anchor. His mind raced, panic swallowing his earlier confidence.

“y/n!” he yelled, fear in his voice. “I’m serious, where are you?!” He didn’t wait for an answer. He dove in, his arms slicing through the water as he searched.

But just as his hand brushed through empty water, you surfaced silently behind JJ, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a firm push on his shoulder, you sent him stumbling forward in the water.

"Payback’s a bitch!" You teased, laughing as you wiped the water from your face.

JJ whirled around, his jaw clenched. "y/n!”

“What the fuck? I seriously thought you-" His words faltered the moment his eyes caught on you. Well, more your tits.

The water had soaked your white shirt completely, and now the dark blue lace of your bra peeked through, clinging to your skin and giving JJ a clear view. His face flushed, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out.

You noticed immediately. Oh, he was so easy to read. Smirking, you leaned a little closer, loving the way his blue eyes darted nervously from your face to anywhere else but your tits. The cocky, wild JJ, suddenly at a loss for words because of you.

"Eyes up here, cowboy," you said, voice sweet as honey, reaching out to grab his chin and tilt his face back up to meet yours. His jaw tightened under your fingers, but he didn't pull away. Your eyes locked. It was just you and him.

Your smirk softened into something more serious. You didn't plan on liking him this much, but JJ had a way of getting under your skin like no one had for a while. So without a second thought, you grabbed his face with both hands and pressed your lips to his.

JJ froze for the briefest moment, caught off guard, before he melted into your kiss like he'd been waiting for this all day. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, the heat between you two undeniable.

Your fingers tangled in his wet hair, tugging slightly just to feel him groan against your lips, while JJ’s hands wandered down to the curve of your back and then falling onto your ass, squeezing slightly and making you gasp.

He kissed you like he had something to prove, it’s been way too long since he got to taste you and now he really couldn't get enough of you. You didn't want to admit it, but neither could you. This boy was driving you crazy.

Your heart raced as you let yourself lean into him, chest pressed against his. For a second, you felt completely lost in him—his touch, his taste, the way he whispered your name against your lips like it was the only thing that mattered.

If it wasn’t for the sake of the others you’d keep going, hell maybe you would even go as far as letting him fu—no, enough.

Breaking the kiss, you pulled back just slightly, forehead resting against his. Your breath hitched as your hands slid down his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of JJ’s breathing.

“You’re really something else, y/n.”

he whispered, his breath hot against your lips, making you smile.

Soon the sun had dipped low, leaving behind a beautiful orange sky, feeling the breeze on your damp hair as you rode toward your house with your blue bike, a quiet smile on your lips. JJ still lingered in your thoughts, the way his lips felt on yours, his laugh, his stupid grin. But you shook it off.

Focus, y/n. Dinner, parents, keep it cool.

The Cut was quiet at this hour, the faint hum of cicadas and the occasional bark of a dog the only sounds heard. But as you rounded a familiar corner, you slammed on your brakes, skidding slightly on the dirt road.

There he was.

“Barry?” You said, surprised. You hadn’t seen him in over a year—not since you’d gone MIA, leaving behind your reckless, wilder days. But here he was, leaning casually against his motorbike, his dark eyes lighting up when they landed on you.

“Holy sh—y/n?” Barry straightened up, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Well, damn. I thought I’d seen a ghost.”

You smirked, hopping off your bike and resting it against your hip. “What, you think I was gone for good? Not a chance.”

Barry took a step closer, his rough edges softened by the genuine surprise in his voice. ��You look… different,” he said, tilting his head as if trying to figure out what had changed.

Your smile turned sly as you leaned in slightly, flashing your teeth. “You mean these?” You asked, pointing at the tiny sparkling gems now adorning your teeth.

Barry’s jaw dropped slightly before he let out a low whistle. “Oh, come on now. What’s this?” He reached out, his thumb brushing your chin as he tilted your face up for a better look.

You didn’t flinch—you and Barry had always been like this, all playful touches and jokingly flirting with each other. “You like them?” you asked.

He chuckled, showing off his old golden tooth as he flashed you a grin. “You kidding? We twinnin’ now.”

You laughed, swatting his hand away gently. “You wish. But thanks. You’ve got good taste—guess I rubbed off on you.”

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jorts, still shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him. “Man, it’s good to see you. It’s been too long. Where you been, huh? Forget about us down here?”

“Never, but..” you started, biting down on your lip in nervousness. “Things just got… bad. You know how it is.”

Barry nodded, his expression shifting to something softer. “Yeah, I get it. But you’re back now.” He smiled, “Tell you what, why don’t you come by tomorrow night? Me and some of the guys—just like old times.”

You hesitated, shifting your weight on your bike. Were you really ready to come face to face with the ghosts of your past?

“Sounds fun, but I’ve got plans. Midsummer thing at Figure Eight. You know, kook duties.”

Barry smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right, of course.” But there was no bitterness in his tone, only a hint of teasing. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Just don’t forget us little people while you’re out there, sweet thang”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’ll call you.”

“You better,” Barry said, his grin as sharp as ever.

With that, you pushed off on your bike, pedaling away, but not without one last glance over your shoulder. Barry watched you go, shaking his head with a low chuckle.

“Still the same troublemaker.”

find all other parts here!

something big coming up soon !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @maybanksbaby @httpsdrewstarkey @dolcekissy @moremaybank @cherrygirlfriend @cosmicanakin

#lovely kook!reader x jj maybank #lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron ❀˖ °#lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron #lovely kook!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #barry obx #obx fic #jj maybank fluff

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absurdthirst · 10 hours ago

Text

All American Thanksgiving {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.9k

Warnings: Sex with strangers, protected sex, outdoors sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), restraints, temperature play, begging, submissiveness, face riding, angst, heartbreak

Comments: Working on Thanksgiving leads to meeting Javier Peña.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña 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.

Javier rubs his cheek as he strides to the door of the diner. It’s Thanksgiving and he volunteered to work. He doesn’t mind sitting in a cop car instead of handling Lorraine and her family like he would’ve had to do. He walks into the empty diner and sits at the counter. You look up when you see him waiting at the counter, surprised anyone showed up on Thanksgiving, but you wipe your hands on your apron and walk along the counter to greet him. “Hey. Happy Thanksgiving. What can I get you to drink?” You ask, taken back by how handsome he is when he looks up at you with beautiful dark brown eyes.

He’s always been a bit of a flirt, but he’s tried to be good while he was dating Lorraine. However, he’s tired of her pushing for a ring, for a proposal. Wanting the wedding that Javi isn’t ready for. She keeps telling him that he can’t keep getting the milk for free when he hasn’t bought the cow. So he decided to tell her he needed a break. Right before the holiday and she keeps calling, her mother stopped him in the grocery store and gave him an earful and her father undoubtedly has been waiting to run into him. “Kind of a slow day, huh?” He asks, glancing around the deserted dinner. “Got any coffee brewed?”

You chuckle, glancing behind you to the half empty pot. “Definitely. It’s what I’ve been surviving on today since it’s been so quiet. Who knew so many people had families to see today?” You tease as you turn to grab a cup to pour him some coffee. “You got stuck with the ghost shift today too?” You ask as you set the cup down on the counter for him.

He snorts. “I volunteered.” He offers. “It was better than spending the day with people I don’t want to be around, talking about subjects I don’t give a fuck about.”

You hum, nodding in agreement, “True. Especially politics and religion. Luckily for me, I don’t have to worry about that because my parents are gone and I’m an only child.” You confess, reaching for a menu to set it down. “Me and the cook back there volunteered to let our coworkers spend the day with their families.”

“That was nice of you.” He watches as you walk away to get the coffee pot, his eyes falling down to your ass. It’s a nice ass, wrapped in your diner uniforms.

You come back, sensing his eyes on you when you walked away, and you smirk as you pour his coffee. He's attractive but you can tell he knows it. "Well, it's starting to feel like it was a good choice." You say as you stare at him appraisingly. "Always liked a man in uniform."

He wings up a brow, leaning back slightly. It’s been a long time since he’s really talked to a woman that wasn’t his family or Lorraine’s and he smirks. “You can look all you want.” He promises. “I don’t mind.”

You like his smirk, feeling your stomach twist with attraction, and you finish pouring his coffee. “See anything you like? On the menu?” You add, offering him a smirk of your own.

“Only the menu is available?” Javi hums. “Damn shame.” He glances down at your hand and sees you don’t have a wedding ring on. “He’s a lucky fucker.”

His words make you hot under your uniform, his dark eyes flicking up to yours and you offer him a soft shake of your head, "there's no lucky fucker. Single as a pringle." You hum, "and you? I'm sure your lady knows she's lucky."

“Single.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Recent occurrence.” Leaning forward, he picks up his coffee cup with three fingers and watches you while he takes a sip, “my real question is how are you single? I bet you get hit on all the time, pretty as you are.”

You chuckle, shaking your head again, "if you count old men and truckers, then allll the time. By someone I'd actually be interested in? Never. Until today." You murmur, resting your elbows on the counter to lean a little closer. "What crazy woman let you out of her bed?" You ask incredulously, eyebrows raised.

He chuckles, appreciating the comment and feeling like it might apply to his ex. She was getting more and more demanding as time went on. “I ran from it, actually.” He admits. “Felt like it wasn’t right.” His gaze turns a little more intense. “She wasn’t the right woman for me. So I’m still looking.”

You hum, "well, her loss and all..." You trail off and look down at the menu, "you want anything to eat, handsome?" You ask flirtatiously, knowing that you are both single. You have no qualms flirting with a sexy man and today has been painfully slow in the diner. You need a distraction.

“Oh, I’m starving.” Javi insists with a lecherous smirk. “And I’ll get something to eat, I guess.” He winks at you and glances behind you when the cook makes his presence known in the kitchen window.

You can sense Adrian's presence but you ignore it to focus on the customer as you reach for your notepad, "what can I get you?" You ask and he glances down at the menu. "All American Breakfast. Bacon, eggs over easy, pancakes." He orders and you nod, writing it down, "hash browns or grits?" You ask and he licks his lips, "hash browns." You nod and scribble down his order, handing it to Adrian who grunts and gets to work. "That should be up soon." You tell him and walk along the counter to grab the syrup and preserves for him to choose from.

“Fuck.” He notices the extra sway to your hips when you walk away from him and it makes his cock twitch. It’s been a slow day and he doesn’t have any calls right now, so he plans to stay and flirt with you until the dispatcher radios him. “Strawberry.” He tells you when you offer him a choice. “Sweet and juicy, how I like it.”

You giggle, your stomach lurching with attraction and lust from his words, and you bring his selection over to him, setting it down. "So...do I get to know your first name, Officer Peña?" You ask, glancing down at his badge and you know he can read your name on your badge.

“Javier.” He’s spilled a little of the coffee on his thumb so he swipes his tongue across it after saying your name in return. “You have a beautiful name.” He compliments. “Matches your ass.”

You inhale shakily before you breathe out, "now there's a compliment you don't get everyday." You lean over the counter again, watching him as he lowers his hand from his mouth. "You have massive hands." You reach for the one he didn't lick, admiring his thick fingers, "makes a girl wonder where else is big." You flirt, caressing the back of his hand.

Javi’s no fool and that is an invitation as clear as day. Running his tongue over his teeth, he arches a brow as he glances at the kitchen window again. “Why don’t we go have a smoke?” He asks you. “Out back.”

You nod, cunt dripping for this stranger, but you feel like you need this. You spin around to talk to Adrian through the kitchen window. "I'm going for a break." You call out and Adrian waves his spatula over his shoulder to dismiss you. He's never been one with words. You reach behind you to untie your apron and shove it under the counter before you stride down the counter at the same pace he walks until you meet him at the side entrance to the dinner. He pushes the door open for you and you step outside, inhaling the fresh air. "I don't really smoke." You confess, turning towards him just as he reaches for your waist to pull you into his chest. "It's not a cigarette I want right now." He rasps, his hard cock pressing against your hip and you moan, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his face to yours.

Javi leans into the kiss eagerly, having missed the physicality of sex since ending things with Lorraine. He’s almost given in and called her a few times but had resisted so far. Now, he’s wrapping his arms around you and dragging you closer, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth with a moan.

Your tongue slides against his as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through your dress. You moan into the kiss, grinding against him as he walks you backwards towards the wall of the diner and you gasp when he kisses your jaw. “Tell me what you want, hermosa.” He demands and you whimper, “need you to fuck me.” You order, reaching between you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

Javi groans into your mouth, twitching in your hand. “I can fuck you.” He promises, breaking away from your lips to kiss along your jaw. His fingers trail around your hip and push into your panties to find your clit and slide his fingers through your wet folds to press inside you slowly. “Fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.” He tells you as your walls hug his fingers.

His fingers are thick and stretch you, making you moan his name as he starts to work you open on them. You’re dripping wet for him and you fumble with his belt, trying to get his pants open. “Fuck. This uniform is so hot.” You murmur, his gun still on his hip as he pumps his fingers. You finally get his pants open and reach in to pull his hard cock out, moaning at the girth you discover.

He chuckles against your pulse as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them up. Wanting you to feel good when he slides inside you. “So is your uniform.” He pants. “Serving me coffee and pussy.”

“Better leave a good tip.” You tease breathlessly as he presses his thumb against your clit and you pump his cock, loving the way he twitches in your palm. His breaths are hot against your neck and you need him to be inside you. “Javier. Please.” You beg, walls fluttering around his digits as he works you up.

“You don’t want to cum like this?” He is halfway teasing but he curls and presses his fingers deeper. Pressing against that spongy spot that has you gasping out his name. “You just want my cock?”

“Oh shit.” You gasp as he presses his fingers against that spot. “Yes. Shit. Keep- keep going. I’m so close.” You pant out your confession as you grind down onto his fingers, your grip on his cock tightening. He chuckles and it makes your stomach clench, sending you over the edge and your knees buckle while you clamp down on his fingers.

Javi’s body pressed against you keeps you upright against the wall. Groaning into your skin while you soak his fingers and he pumps them in and out of you with a squelching sound. Enjoying the way you are whimpering and his cock pulses in your hand.

You try to catch your breath as he works you through it until you regain your senses. You let go of his cock to cup his cheeks, pressing your lips to his after you demand, “fuck me.”

Javi licks into your mouth again, pulling his fingers out of your dripping pussy to reach for his wallet. Always keeping a spare condom in the side pocket, he pulls it out blindly and drops the wallet on the ground in his hast to rip the foil packet open and roll it on.

You shove your dress up your hips and watch him roll the condom down his cock. He’s thick and you would go down on him if you knew him better. “Baby, please.” You beg, whining as he grabs your thigh, lifting it over his hip, and you groan when he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push into you.

Javi doesn’t just thrust into you roughly, but his hips are firm as they press you into the wall. Filling you with a smooth roll of his hips that is taking your breath and making him choke out in pleasure as he bottoms out. “Fuuuuuuck.” The curse is growled into your mouth, following his tongue as it slides against yours and his eyes close at the hot clutch of your cunt around him.

He stretches you out and you grip his shoulder as he starts to move inside you. Your tongue tangles with his and this is pleasure you haven't felt for a long time. He is strong beneath your touch as he rocks into you and you moan, tilting your head back against the wall when he adjusts his hips, "fuck, that's good."

Javi grunts in agreement, moving to kiss every inch of your neck and shoulder that he can reach while he’s rocking into you. His hands around your back, holding you as he thrusts. The jingle of his belt is loud but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care if anyone manages to see you, he’s too focused on how good you feel around him.

Anyone could see you from the road but you don't care. Adrian could come out and find you but you don't give a fuck. Not when Javier is making you feel like this. He thrusts into you, his hand sliding down to your ass and you moan, rocking your hips to meet his, his belt hitting your thigh with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He pants as he fucks you. “I can feel it. Cum for me.” He wants to feel you cum on his cock, needs to feel it because he can feel his own body tensing to cum. It’s been so long since he’s fucked anyone but Lorraine that it’s overwhelming. “Cum for me, baby.”

His words have you falling over the edge. His cock pushes deep and you clamp down on it with a cry. Your nails dig into his uniform as you cum for him, squeezing his cock inside your fluttering walls. “Cu- cum for me.” You plead, wanting to watch him fall apart.

Javi’s jaw tenses. nostrils flaring as his hips snap forward three more times before he is faltering. Burying himself deep with a groan as his cock pulses inside you. Flooding the condom with his seed.

You love the way his jaw clenches as he twitches inside you. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.” You caress his cheek as he works himself through his pleasure until he lowers your thigh from his hip. You kiss him softly and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock as he pulls out of you.

“Fuck.” Javi hisses as he slides the condom off quickly and ties it closed. “Now I do need a cigarette.” He chuckles, shoving the used condom into the trash can and tucking his cock away. He zips up and looks at you as you adjust your panties and pull your dress back into place.

You stumble slightly and he reaches out to stabilize you. “Sorry. Just not used to cumming that hard.” You confess with a giggle and he chuckles, rubbing your arms. “You want your breakfast? Come in and have a smoke and your food.” You tell him, opening the door to the diner and he follows you inside, playfully smacking your ass which makes you giggle.

Javi goes back to his seat, sipping his coffee as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. Watching you move over to the window where his meal is sitting, having obviously been waiting for him. Grinning, you turn back and bring it over to him and he smirks. “Why won’t you get a drink and sit down with me?” He asks, inhaling a drag from the cigarette. “Not like you have a ton of tables to check.”

You glance at the kitchen window where Adrian is cleaning the griddle and you nod, grabbing a cup of coffee for yourself. Your pussy aches a little as you take a seat next to him and he taps his cigarette on the ashtray sitting on the counter. "So what made you want to be a cop?" You ask, eying his badge.

“Didn’t want to be a rancher.” He snorts, picking up his coffee cup and taking another sip before he sets it back down and picks up his fork. “I studied philosophy and criminal justice in college.” He admits, cutting into his pancakes and then picking up the syrup to drizzle over the top. “Don’t see a lot of work for a philosopher around here.”

You take a sip of your coffee and you chuckle, "I don't know. Some people around here need to take a good look at their lives. Maybe you could help them." You tease, "but being a cop...it's a hard job. Not one I'd want to do." You confess, "I bet it's hard to deal with the smugglers."

“Yeah.” He frowns slightly. “I try to prevent as much as I can, but I’m not in the DEA.” He has talked with agents a lot and even been told he needs to apply, but he hadn’t decided if he wanted to leave Laredo or not. His dad would be all alone. He never said it, but he could tell that he had missed Javi while he was in college.

You nod in understanding, “I heard the president talking about stopping the cartels but who knows what will happen. If you did join the DEA, I’m sure every woman in Laredo would miss you in uniform.” You wink, taking another sip of your coffee.

He chuckles. “Yep, I’m sure old Mrs. Murphy will miss calling me out to report that someone’s walked through her flowerbed.” He tells you. “It’s her cat, every time.”

You giggle, “she probably just wants to see a sexy cop.” You tease and he continues to eat his food. “I’d definitely be calling you to my house at every chance and you’d have a different kind of pussy to deal with.” You wink playfully, resting your elbows on the counter.

After scooping up a bite of his eggs, he smirks at you and turns the fork around to offer you the bite. “I’d be having a different kind of meal too.” He promises, that smirk broadening into a grin when you take the bite off of his fork with a look of surprise on your face. “Where do you live?” He asks. “Professionally speaking, so I can keep an ear out for the call on the radio.”

You grin after you swallow the eggs he offered you. “For professional purposes?” You ask and he nods, his knee pressing against yours under the counter. You tell him your address, “so if you’re in the area, stop by.” You wink, “and you can have your meal.”

He arches a brow, making note of the address. It’s not too far from his normal patrol route. “Gotta warn you,” he takes a bite of eggs and then forks up a bite of the pancakes for you to eat. “I’ve got a hell of an appetite.”

“Good thing I can cook up a storm.” You tease, wrapping your lips around his fork to chew on the bite. Adrian had left for his break so it’s just the two of you in the diner. “And I definitely offer dessert.” You wink after you swallow, “you are welcome anytime, officer.”

Javi smirks and nods. “Definitely take you up on that.” He promises. “Although if keeping the handcuffs on is a turn on, I can always use them on you.” He jokes.

“Or I could use them on you.” You challenge playfully and he chuckles, shrugging one shoulder, “never tried that before.” You smirk, “it would be fun. I mean it, you’re welcome anytime.” You promise and he nods just as his walkie talkie beeps. “Come in Peña.” The dispatcher’s voice is muffled but you lean back, knowing your time with him is over.

Javi sighs and rolls his eyes but he reaches for the radio. “Peña here, what’s going on?”

“Domestic dispute. Thanksgiving dinner gone wrong. 112 Sanders Ave off of Clark near the football stadium.” Kathy at dispatch says, knowing Javier is on his break but the woman had been panicked.

Javi is moving, dropping his fork and standing up as he keys his mic again. “10-4.” He says. “Enroute, five minutes.” He goes to pull his wallet out of his pocket and smirks because he had to pick it up off the ground earlier. “Listen, thanks for the food and the company.” He tells you, handing you several bills. Enough to cover the meal and a good tip. “I’ll try to come back.” He promises.”

You nod, watching him shift off his stool. “Let me get you a coffee to go.” You rush around the counter and grab a paper to-go cup, filling it up and you hand it to him. Your fingers brush his and you wish he wasn’t leaving so soon. “I’ll see you around.” You murmur, glad that Adrian isn’t here to see you step forward to kiss his cheek. He smiles and nods, “see you soon.” He says and makes his way out of the diner. You watch him until his patrol car disappears and you sigh, leaning against the counter for several moments until you clean up his plate.

The entire time he’s gone to the call, he’s thinking about the sex, the conversation. He had enjoyed his time with you, more than he could have imagined in that situation. He takes care of that issue, calming down the couple that had been arguing over the man watching the game and not helping out for Thanksgiving dinner. After that, he had a call for fireworks, basically just telling the kids to space out the explosions, and not set them off near buildings so they don’t catch on fire. After that, it goes quiet and he finds himself driving back to the diner to see if you are still there.

You are refilling the condiments, distracted thinking about Javier, when the man himself strides back into the diner. Your eyes widen and you nearly knock over the sugar as you stand up, brushing down your apron. “You’re back.” You declare and he nods, walking over to the counter, “can I get you a coffee?” You ask, heart pounding in your chest.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Too late for that.” He checks his watch and raises a brow. “When do you close tonight? I can’t see too many more people coming if they aren’t already here.”

You check your watch, “in the next fifteen minutes if no one comes in.” You tell him, “you sure you don’t want anything?” You ask as you start to put the condiments away on each table.

He smirks. “Nothing but a date.” He props his hands on his hips and looks at you as you work. “Don’t think we can go out tonight but, what do you say?” He had been thinking about you the entire time he was working and was eager to come back. It’s a step in the right direction and tells him that he was right to end things with Lorraine.

You are shocked that he came back to ask you out but your heart pounds and you blurt out a “yes” before you can even process it. He grins, nodding his head, “I, uh, I’ll give you my number.” You scramble for your notepad and write your number and address down for him. “I have tomorrow off if you, uh, if you’re free. If not, call me and we can figure something out.” You tell him with a smile that won’t leave your face.

Javi grins, taking the slip of paper that you had written his order down on, now having your number on it, and folds it over to tuck into his shirt pocket. “I’m off too.” He tells you. “Perks of working the holiday.” He jokes. “You want to get dinner? Let someone serve you for a change?”

You nod, “that sounds good.” You can’t stop smiling. You truly dreaded coming into work today but Javier has changed everything, making this a great day. “Seven?” You suggest and he nods, stepping closer to you. He glances around to see if Adrian is nearby until he cups your cheek and you lean in to press your lips to his. The kiss is sweet and short and when he pulls back, you cover your lips with your fingers, giggling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, officer.” You say and he chuckles, offering you a wink before he leaves the diner. “He’s going to be trouble.” Adrian calls out for the kitchen, “mark my words.” He says and you roll your eyes, “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You finish your shift with a grin, planning what you’re going to wear tomorrow night for your date.

****

Javi hadn’t called that night since you had plans, but he’s pulling his truck up to your address five minutes before seven. It’s been a long damn time since he’s gone on a first date and Chucho had smirked when he had seen his son taking pains with his appearance and applying his new cologne. Now he wonders if he should have brought flowers since he’s already fucked you, but he can’t leave and go get some. Rolling his eyes at his stupidity, he opens the door and reaches for his cigarettes while he waits to knock on your door.

You rush around, making sure you look good. You’d picked a classy but sexy dress to impress him and it’s silly because you’ve already had sex, but you like him. A lot. You want to get to know him more and you want to make a good first date impression. You spray your perfume and when the doorbell rings, you inhale deeply, checking your appearance in the mirror before you open your front door. He’s wearing jeans that cling to his thighs, making your mouth water until you take in his checked shirt and the cowboy boots. Fuck, he looks sexy. “Hey.” You greet him softly, leaning against your doorframe after you open the door.

Javi smiles as he takes in your dress with a slow perusal of your body, up and down until he’s looking at your face again. “Hey.” He murmurs, his eyes already darkening in approval. “You look good.” He tells you. “Real good.” If he hadn’t promised you a date, he would be trying to talk you into bed right now.

His compliment makes you shiver in arousal and you’re tempted to drag him off to your bed but you need to get to know him. You want to know more about him. “Thanks, handsome. Let me just grab my purse and we can go.” You say and leave the door open as you find your purse. “You ready?” You ask and he nods, stepping back after you close the door so you can lock up.

He guides you towards the truck and opens the door for you. “So how do you feel about going across the border for dinner?” He asks. “There’s a great little restaurant on the river that serves the best food you’ll ever eat.”

You nod, “I’m down for anything.” You promise and you get up into his truck, watching him close the door and walk around. He comes across as a strong man and you love that he takes your hand as soon as he is driving down the street. “I’m really happy you came back to ask me on a date. I kicked myself for not getting your number.” You confess, squeezing his hand.

He hums as he guides the truck down the road towards the river. “I had to leave sooner than I wanted to.” He reminds you. “Asshole husband wanted to sit on his butt watching the game instead of helping set up for the entire family coming over.” He snorts. “Poor bastard never spent days making tamales at the table with mama.”

You scoff, “I feel bad for some women. They are completely stuck in their homes doing everything instead of following their dreams, doing what they want. I mean, I work in a diner but at least I’m standing on my own two feet and not dependent on some asshole who doesn’t do shit for my weekly grocery money.”

He finds that refreshing and he nods. “My mama was a “homemaker”.” He tells you. “But she ran our house, our lives.” He chuckles. “Pop would drive mama to the store for groceries because when they were first married he told her he expected the shopping to be done by her.” He shoots you a grin. “She made him eat those words and he ended up loving going shopping with her every week.”

You giggle, “your mama sounds like an incredible woman.” Javier nods, his brow furrowed, “she was.” Your smile drops and you squeeze his hand, “I’m sorry. I lost my parents when I was eighteen to a car accident. They left me their house and that’s how I’ve been able to survive.” You confess, “I- I’m sorry. It hurts. You want to talk to them, tell them everything that happens in your life, but they aren’t there. It’s horrible.” You admit, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears for your own family.

“I’m sorry.” Javi flips his hand over yours and laces his fingers through to hold your hand. He squeezes it gently. “I know you have to miss them. I miss my mama every damn day.” He murmurs quietly. “Don’t ever apologize for missing someone you love.”

You love that you can understand his grief and he can understand yours. It's hard to relate when your partner hasn't lost a parent so you feel even more connected to Javier. He pulls up outside the restaurant moments later and helps you out, his hand on your back as he guides you into the restaurant. You feel protected and you love how he takes charge as he gives his name and pulls out your chair when you sit down at the table.

He tells you what he plans to order, “it’s the best you’ve ever had.” He promises, tapping the menu. When the waitress comes up, he orders two beers after checking with you and then looking back at you as she walks away. “So, tell me how you came to be at the diner?” He asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in there before, but I work odd hours a lot.”

You tap your fingers on the table, “my friend, Pam. She’s well, she was my mom’s best friend and she owns the diner. After my parents died, she was my rock and offered me a job. I planned to go to college but that kind of got pushed aside from grief and I’ve been there ever since. Maybe one day I’ll go to college but for now, I don’t mind working at the diner. I take weird shifts since a lot of the other girls have families. I’m happy to help them out since I’m alone.” You confess, offering him a shrug of your shoulder.

He nods, knowing that he doesn't mind the long, odd hours that come with his job sometimes. Although Lorraine would constantly complain when something would interfere with her plans. Like public safety and criminals would just stop at five when everyone else got off work.

The waitress brings back your beers and you tell Javier to order so you can have the same thing. “I’ll see if your recommendation is up to scratch.” You tease, picking up your beer to clink it against his. “To first dates.” He toasts and you smile, “to first dates.” Javier smirks after he has a sip, “so what happens if my recommendation isn’t up to your standard?” You giggle, setting your bottle down to take his hand in yours, “then you won’t get the blowjob I’ve been imagining since you left the diner yesterday.”

His cock twitches in his jeans. “Blow job?” He asks, sure that you’re fucking with him. “Thought good girls didn’t like to suck cock?” He had stopped asking for a blow job after it was treated like a chore. He had taken the hint, but he damn sure hadn’t gone down on Lorraine either - just sticking to sex. He had counted it as another strike against the relationship. If the sex life dried up and they weren’t even married, what would it look like in ten years? He didn’t want to find out.

You lean closer, lowering your voice, “who said I was a good girl?” You tease and you love the way he inhales sharply. “Baby.” He murmurs and you turn his hand over, tracing circles on his palm, “you’re sexy and capable, why wouldn’t I want to be on my knees for you?”

Javi shivers, feeling his body respond to the promise in your eyes. “Then you’ll be on them later on.” He promises, imagining the way you would look up at him with his cock in your mouth. “And then I’ll see how loud you can scream my name.”

You pick his hand up to press a kiss to his palm before you lower it back to the table, “I’m excited for that.” You murmur, “I, uh, I don’t usually - this isn’t what I do.” You clarify, “you’re the first man I’ve slept with since my ex and I broke up about six months ago. There’s something about you that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.”

“I don’t think any less of you.” He promises, smirking slightly. “I was right there with you, just as guilty.” He winks playfully and tilts his head. “Why did you and your ex break up? Was he just stupid?”

You sigh, “he wanted me to move across the country to Florida. I couldn’t leave my parents’ house. I know it’s stupid but it’s the last connection I have to them. I couldn’t sell it and move. He refused to stay in Laredo and we broke up. He’s dating some girl in Miami now. It wasn’t meant to be.” You confess, “and you? Why did you break up with your ex?”

Javi knows this might be something you don’t like but he sighs. “She was pushing for marriage and wouldn’t listen when I told her that we needed to fix some things in our relationship first.” He tells you honestly. “She kept pushing for me to quit the department, go work for her dad.” He snorts. “I don’t want to fucking sell furniture.”

You nod in understanding, “you can’t just get married without sorting those issues out. That’s a hot ticket to divorce. And you definitely don’t look like a furniture salesman. Annoying fuckers.” You snort, “you need to make the right choice for you otherwise you’ll be too old with kids and look back thinking what the fuck did I do with my life?” You know life is short.

He laughs and nods. “Exactly.” He shakes his head. “What about you?” He asks. “You want kids? The life?” He isn’t opposed to it, but it’s not like he is rushing to find a woman to pump out kids for him. He just kind of assumed they would always one day happen, although one day seemed to be a far off concept.

You shake your head, “I’m not in a rush. I do want to get married, have kids. My parents had a great marriage. They were partners but they - my mom could only have me. They wanted more kids. I would like a couple of kids. A husband. A dog. All of it. But not yet. I am still figuring myself out.” You confess, continuing to trace his palm.

“And what have you figured out so far?” He asks, finding it easy to talk to you. You aren’t playing games, being coy. It’s nice to just talk about things without any expectations or debates about what he should want. He got plenty of that from Lorraine’s family.

“That I am stronger than I thought.” You confess, “after my parents died…I thought I would crumble. But I didn’t. I got stronger and I miss them so much but I’m surviving. I need to find who I am without my grief. I am slowly getting there.” You murmur, “I want to enjoy life to the fullest. That’s my goal. In honor of my parents.”

“That’s a good tribute to them.” He agrees. The rest of the dinner is amazing, both of you talking about everything and anything. Javi tells you some jokes that make you laugh and there’s plenty of flirting as well. Even as you agree that it’s the best food you’ve had. Now you are in the truck parked in front of your house again and Javi wonders if you are going to invite him in.

Javi comes around to open the passenger door and he walks you to the front door of your house, his hand on your back until you turn to face him. You step closer, placing your hands on his chest, “do you want to come in?” You ask, biting your lip, prepared for him to say no and you should be more coy but you want him again.

He licks his lips and nods. "I want to come in." He promises you, happy that he had slipped another condom into his wallet. He presses closer and leans in, kissing you softly before he pulls away. "Open the door, hermosa." He hums, his hands sliding down from your hips to your ass. "This time I want to see you naked."

His words make you grin and you fumble slightly as you grab your keys until you manage to get the door open. You step inside, his hands around your waist as you walk in and he kicks the door shut behind him, spinning you around to press you up against it. You gasp in delight and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging his mouth to yours.

This time he can spend time on you. Stripping you down and feasting on your body while drowning himself in the pleasure of it. Everything blurs in his mind, all his problems fade and you are exciting. You are just as eager as he is. His cock is already starting to hard just from your soft lips yielding to him and his tongue slides against yours as you gasp into his mouth.

His thigh pushes between your legs and you grind down onto him as his tongue tangles with yours. You moan into his kiss, your hands sliding to the buttons of his shirt, starting to work it open so you can touch more of him.

Javi likes that you are undressing him. Likes that you are taking charge even if you are the one with your back against the wall. He pushes his thigh up a little higher as you grind down on it and he can feel the dampness starting to grow. "Fuck." he groans, breaking away and kissing down your neck. "No panties?" He twitches against your stomach.

“I was feeling lucky.” You tease, shoving his shirt open and you caress his chest once his skin is bare. “Shit. You’re so handsome.” You murmur against his hair as he kisses down to your collarbone and you scratch your nails over his nipples, grinding onto his jeans.

Javi hisses your name, hands sliding back up your dress to find the zipper. He doesn't want to just push your dress up again but he needs to touch you. "You are fucking gorgeous." He finds your lips again to kiss you as he drags the small zipper down.

His words make your body heat up and you know he means it, it’s not just to get into your pants. You haven’t even made it down the hall, the chemistry between you sizzles and you arch your back to allow him to pull the zipper down, his shirt hitting the floor when he finally shrugs out of it when you whine.

He chuckles, stepping backs so he can peel your dress down and reveal your bra. "Fuck," his hands cup your tits and he is delighted to find that the snap for your bra is in the front, letting him unclip it easily.

His eyes are dark and you love how hungry he looks as he pushes your bra off your shoulders and cups your tits as soon as it hits the floor. Your hands slide down to his belt, working to open in your desperation to see all of him, feel all of him.

Your hands are hot and eager on his skin, opening his belt with a hunger that jerks his hips towards you as you pull at the belt. "Let me- let me get you to the bedroom." He grunts, knowing that he wants to spread you out.

You nod, knowing you want him in a bed so you shimmy your dress down, kick off your heels, and take his hand to guide him to your bedroom while completely naked. His free hand works on his belt, letting it drop to the floor, and you open the door to your bedroom.

"Cute bed." He hums, noting your flowery bedspread. "Maybe I should have brought my handcuffs to tie you to it."

You smirk, “next time, officer.” You promise and waste no time sinking down to your knees, working on the zipper of his jeans, “now, I do believe I promised you a blow job if your recommendation was good enough and that was the best food I’ve had in a while.” You smirk and lean in to kiss his belly while you open his jeans until you reach in to pull his hard cock out. “Fuck. It looks as good as it feels.” You murmur, gripping him until you lean in to flick your tongue over the drop of precum before you take him into your mouth.

"Oh fuck." Javi's eyes roll back in pleasure and he fights to open them again and keep his gaze centered on you. "You- fuck, you - you are good at this." He pants out, reaching out and caressing your cheek and jaw as you take him deep into your mouth and hollow your cheeks around him. "Fuck."

You moan around him, loving the way he tries to not thrust into your throat but you want it. You grab his thighs, managing to pull his pants down further so you can cradle his balls while you take him deeper, choking when he hits the back of your throat. You splutter slightly and take a deep breath, pushing his cock down your throat as you breathe through your nose.

He likes that you choke but keep going. You don’t care that your eyes are watering and your makeup is smearing. Your eyes are watching him and your mouth feels like heaven around his cock.

“Fuck, “I’m going to cum.” Javi warns, loving how you just hum around him. A few seconds later, he’s cumming down your throat, growling your name and panting breathlessly.

Pulling off his cock once you’ve swallowed every drop, you love how he is immediately hauling you to your feel and pushing you down on the bed, “It’s your turn.” He smirks, spreading your thighs as he settles between them, finding a pretty shaved landing strip. “You groomed for me?” He asks playfully. “You shouldn’t have.”

You chuckle, flushing and shaking your head, “just wanted to make sure your dessert was presented nicely.” You tease, watching him settle between your thighs. He kisses your skin and you whimper, “hope you like it, officer.”

Javi smirks and nudges his nose against your clit, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal. You got wet while sucking his cock and he uses his fingers to pull your folds apart to expose the sensitive skin. “Let me show you how much.” He coos before he is sliding his tongue through your folds with a pleased groan.

You whimper, running your fingers through his hair, loving how his tongue feels. It’s wet and hot and makes you gasp when he flicks it over your clit. “Baby.” You whine, “you feel so good.” You compliment, tugging on his hair.

Javi wants to make this good for you. You sucked his cock and your cunt feels like heaven. He wants to see what you look like when you fall apart on his tongue. Eager to see how you moan and thrash around for him as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

It’s mind blowing how good his tongue feels against your clit, sucking on your folds and he pushes his tongue into your pussy. You watch him, shifting onto your elbow to watch him, “fuck, handsome, you’re so good at that.”

He hums against your folds, winking at you playfully from his place between your thighs, his mouth still attached to your cunt. He loves how vocal you are, how sweet the whines are when your thighs tense. His fingers dig into your hips and hold you in place.

You rock your hips against his face as he works his tongue deep in your pussy, your fingers tangled in his hair, and his nose presses just right against your clit. “Fuck. Oh shit. That - that’s it.” You pant, loving how good it feels as he works you up.

He wants you to cum. He wants to see your cunt flutter before he slides inside you. Groaning into you as your fingers tug at his hair and his cock twitches against the sheets. He pulls his tongue out of your pussy and flicks it over your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

"Oh my - fuck!" You cry when he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You love it. You fucking love it. You gasp, thighs starting to shake around his head, and you moan his name when you finally fall apart. You cry out, thighs squeezing his head while you soak his chin.

Javi moans into your folds. He loves when a woman comes apart for him. It’s addictive and he loves that just as much as he loves cumming himself. Lapping at your juices until he pulls away with his mouth shiny with your slick, he kisses your clit and then starts to work his way up your body.

You pant, catching your breath as he kisses up your body, wrapping his lips around your nipple, and his cock is hard against your thigh. You reach down to wrap your fingers around him, pumping his cock, “need you inside me, baby.” You demand breathlessly.

“Fuck.” He groans against your chin. “Do you have a condom in your nightstand?” His pants are too far away for his liking and he doesn’t want to pull away from your grip.

You nod, stretching out after you release his cock to grab a condom from your nightstand. His hands squeezing your ass as you turn onto your side, grabbing the condom. You shove it into his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours to kiss him.

Javi can kiss a woman and open up a condom without looking at it. Focusing on you as he pulls the rubber out and rolls it down his cock. Groaning as he pumps himself a few times to position himself between your thighs.

You moan into his mouth when he starts to enter you, stretching you out like he did the day before behind the diner. "Fuck." You pant against his chin, shifting your gaze so you can watch him push into you. "You're so gorgeous, baby." You murmur, kissing along his jaw after a moment of watching him until he's pressing against your cervix.

He chuckles, thinking that should be his comment to you. Turning his head to press his lips to your and give you a moment to relax before he starts to move.

You let him set the pace, lifting your thighs onto his hips while your hands explore his chest, up to his shoulders, and down his back until you’re squeezing his ass. He’s strong above you, making you feel like the world outside doesn’t exist, and that makes you whimper into his kiss.

Javi is a passionate lover, he pours himself in the intimacy with total abandon. Forgetting everything else but the way you move under him and respond to every thrust.

His thrusts are deep but unhurried, making your chest heave against his, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast and you whine his name. "Feel so good, baby. Better. It's gotten better." You moan, wrapping your legs around him.

Your comment makes him huff against your chin, smirking slightly as he continues to rock into you. “And the next time will be even better.” He teases. “And then even better the time after that.”

"Fuck, you're gonna have me addicted to you." You tease, "gonna need to keep you in my bed every damn day to use your cock." You chuckle when he twitches inside of you. "And I want - God, I want you in it every day."

He groans, completely agreeing with your line of thinking. “Works for me.” He kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. “Pussy feels amazing and you are incredible.” He squeezes your breast gently.

You smile at his words, glad he’s on the same page, and you rock your hips up to grind against him, moaning when his pelvis rubs your clit. “Fuck yes. There.” You pant when he hits something incredible inside you and his pelvis rubs your clit. “Keep - keep going. Just like that.”

He pants, trying to keep his hips angled the same way. Wanting to hear you moan again. “There?” He asks, huffing proudly when you nod. “Yes, just- oh god.” You whimper, making him rock his hips a little harder, knowing you are close to cumming.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ja-" You cut yourself out with a cry as you clamp down on his cock, lost in the sensations of your orgasm while he continues to rock into you as best he can while you squeeze him.

He grits his teeth, hissing in pleasure as he works you through that orgasm. Loving how your walls spasm around him and flutter. Your eyes skip closed and your head tilts back, letting him kiss along your chin as he works you through and pushes towards his own.

The pleasure makes your toes curl and you whimper, walls fluttering around him. "So good. So good, baby. Want - need you to cum for me." You plead, scratching down his back as you rock your hips to meet his.

Your lips meet his and he groans into your mouth, ramping up his thrusts and hearing his hips slap against the back of your ass as he fucks you. Grunting in pleasure as he gets closer and closer.

The moment he falls apart makes you moan into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his when his groan vibrates against your lips and his cock twitches inside of you. You caress his back, letting him rock himself through his climax.

“Fuck.” He hisses, kissing you again and collapsing against you for a moment. He can savor it, rest for a second and not immediately pull away. It’s not like you’re behind the diner this time. He kisses you softly a few more times before he finally reaches between you to grip the base of his cock to make sure the condom stays in place.

It’s impossible to not relax into the sheets beneath you. Your body buzzing from the orgasms and you watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it into the bin near your bed. “Come here, handsome.” You order, dragging him back into your bed so you can pull him close to kiss him. “That’s was so damn good.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair.

He chuckles, his head leaning against the headboard and his arm comes around you as you snuggle against him. “Damn good.” He agrees. “Want a cigarette but I don’t want to move.” He’s relaxed and blissful right now, body humming with pleasure and making him a little drowsy.

“I’d offer you one but I don’t smoke.” You murmur, caressing his chest, “you maybe want to come over for dinner? When you’re free?” You ask, wanting to see him again even if he’s not left your place yet. You want to keep this going.

“When?” He asks, even though he’s not even digested the last meal that you’ve shared together.

“Whenever you’re not working. I work the day shift tomorrow so I'm free tomorrow night. If that’s not too soon?” You bite your lip, wondering if he’s going to get scared off by you being too eager.

He smirks as he looks down at you. “Whatcha making?” He asks playfully. “Have to be pretty good to beat those pancakes and pussy.”

****

“Fuck baby, I’ve got fifteen minutes.” Javi grumps against your lips, fumbling with his belt and pushing you against the wall of the diner again. It’s been two weeks since Thanksgiving and he’s been over at your place every night since the first date. Chucho chuckled whenever he saw Javi, sometimes he was only home to wash his clothes or change. “Fuck, pull my cock out and I’ll get the condom.”

You whine when he pulls back and you work on opening his pants to pull his hard cock out of his uniform. “Shit, Javi. Hurry up. I need you.” You plead, knowing you don’t have a lot of time and you want to have him inside you again. You’ve had sex every day since the first day you met, you’re addicted to him, and you desperately need him right now.

“Hurrying, baby, fuck.” He twitches in your hand and nearly laughs in relief when he finds the condom he has stuck in his pocket when he got dressed this morning. He had known he was coming since you are working the late shift tonight and won’t be home until late. Your house feeling like home to him since he’s spent nearly every night there. “Fucking thought about this all damn day.” As he pushes your panties down, he kisses you again and pushes the condom into your hand before he slides his hand between your thighs to rub your clit.

You fumble to open the foil packet, letting it drop to the ground as you work fast to roll the condom down his length despite his fingers working your clit. “Fuck. Me too. All damn day. Think of you whenever anyone orders the breakfast.” You moan, squeezing his length. “Come on, baby. Fuck me.” You plead and let go of him.

He’s shuffling between your thighs and grips your leg to lift it up and position himself before he’s pushing deep. Swallowing your soft cry of pleasure and giving you a groan of his own as he immediately starts to fuck you.

He stretches you out and you whine, tilting your head against the wall of the diner, his lips immediately attaching to your skin there. “Oh God.” You pant, gripping his shoulders as he thrusts into you, still dressed in the uniform you love.

Javi grunts, driving into you over and over again his knees hit the wall behind you. “Fuck baby.” He’s completely wrapped up in you, hasn’t even thought about Lorraine since that second date with you. He’s been happier and lighter since you’ve been with him.

He grunts as he rocks into you, knowing there's a diner full of customers that haven't got a clue that you are outside getting fucked by the handsome cop who came in for coffee and a donut. "So good, Jav." You whimper, lifting your thigh a little higher and he pushes deeper, making you moan. You were wet as soon as you saw his patrol car pull up and you are already climbing to your climax.

“Cum for me baby.” He begs against your pulse, pressing kisses to your galloping pulse and scraping his teeth over your skin. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me.”

You can't deny his request, your pussy fluttering around his cock until you fall over the edge. Gripping his uniform in your fingers, you clamp down on his cock with a cry out his name you can't guarantee the diner didn't hear, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Javi is cumming right after you are. Pent up from thinking about this, about you all day. He’s groaning your name and moving up to capture your lips in a searing kiss as he floods the condom with ropes of his seed as his knees buckle slightly.

You love how he feels when he cums, the way he tenses up, and you slide your hands down, caressing his badge as he pants against your lips. "That was a nice surprise." You smile, "I love when you come to see me at work."

He hums as he kisses you again. “Wanted to come see you.” He admits. “I’ll be back when you close the diner.” He kisses you again and starts to pull out of you gently. “Make sure you get home safe.”

You smile, “my hero.” You coo and watch as he ties off the condom while you pull your panties up and push your dress down your thighs. “I’ll see you later then. You want a coffee to go?” You ask and he nods, playfully smacking your ass once he’s all tucked away. You gasp, smacking his chest, and you walk back into the diner to grab him that cup while Adrian eyes you from the kitchen window. “Here you go, baby.” You murmur as you hand him the cup, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you later, officer.” You love how he winks before he strides out of the diner, eyed by several of the women but you know you’ll be in the one in bed with him later.

At the end of his shift, Javi pulls back up to the dinner again. Parking the car and turning off the engine while he watches you work through the windows. You move with grace, picking up the condiment bottles to wipe down and store for the night. It had been a hard end of shift, he had a young boy die in his arms. A drug overdose. Hours spent at the hospital and plenty of paperwork, but the worst part was telling those poor parents their son was never coming home. He sighs softly as he sets out of the car and leans against the hood, lighting up a much needed cigarette.

You see Javier waiting for you after you lock the front door and Adrian lights his own cigarette. “That one will be trouble for you, mark my words.” He says and strides off, “goodnight.” You call out to him and shove the keys in your purse, making your way over to Javier. “You look stressed.” You observe, “what happened?” You ask as you step closer to wrap your arms around him.

His arms wind around you and he drags you close, needing your warmth to chase away to sorrow. “Had a kid die tonight.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “Overdosed on cocaine.” He swallows harshly and sighs. “Fucking sixteen years old. In the fucking morgue.”

“Shit.” You murmur, resting your cheek on his chest, feeling his heart pound. “I’m so sorry, baby. That - I can’t even imagine.” You hold each other, knowing how his job takes a toll on his mental health. He feels helpless sometimes and doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, pulling back to look at him.

“I know.” The compassion and worry shines out of your eyes, making him fall for you just a little harder. You are gorgeous, kind, compassionate and warm. Exactly the kind of woman his mother would have picked for him if she had been alive. She would have loved you. He reaches out and cups the back of your neck to drag you to him for a desperate kiss, needing to feel something other than loss.

You kiss him fiercely, wishing you could take away the pain in his eyes, and he’s so damn brave. Not many people could handle that job. You peck his lips when he pulls back, “let’s go back to mine. Get some food.” You caress his cheek and he nods, walking you over to your car. “I’ll see you at home.” You promise and slide into your car. He waits until you’re pulling out of the parking lot to get in his car and follow you to your house.

He hopes that you don’t mind his cruiser outside your house, but you’ve never said a word about it. He doesn’t have the energy to go back to the ranch and get his truck. Drained emotionally and needing something that he can’t say out loud. He needs comforts that only you can provide.

When he walks behind you while you’re unlocking the front door, you nearly drop your keys but you manage to open it. You step inside and groan when you step out of your shoes and throw your purse down. He works on removing his holster, kicking off his shoes, and you turn around when he removes the cuffs. “Give those to me.” You demand, holding out your hand. His eyebrows raise, “you want me to use them on you, hermosa?” He asks and you smirk, “no. I want to use them on you.”

He’s surprised by your answer, but he trusts you. Only frowning slightly as he hands them over and finishes removing his utility belt and radio. He turned it off at the end of his shift, but he’s happy to have the damn thing off. “What do you plan to do?”

“I want you to strip down and I’m going to handcuff you to my bed. Make you forget about everything except how good I’m making you feel.” You explain as you step closer to him, “and I want to make sure you have the key.”

You nod, setting the key down on the counter to make sure it’s safe, and you bite your lip, “strip down. Now.” You order, “I want to see all of you, baby.” He nods, reaching up to start unbuttoning his shirt and you watch him with hungry eyes.

Stripping down is almost cathartic, the weight of his duties sliding off like his clothes. He hesitates on his briefs but you nod. “Those too.” And he hooks his fingers under her elastic band and drags them down so he is standing naked in your entryway. His cock is half hard, but he doesn’t shy away from you seeing him.

You love how strong he looks but you want to break him down, let him take the weight of the world off his shoulders. “Go lay on my bed.” You order, “I’ll be in there in a second.”

He nods, turning and walking down to the bedroom and pulling back the covers to lay in the familiar sheets. He watches the door, getting even harder at the prospect of turning everything over to you and letting you control his pleasure

You strip down to your underwear, leaving him to wait for you, and you grab a cup of ice, bringing it with you along with the handcuffs. You want to take him out of his mind and you love how he looks in your bed, his cock resting on his lower stomach as he waits for you. “Hey baby.” You smirk, striding over to the bed and you set the cup of ice on the nightstand. “You wanna give me a safe word in case you want out of the handcuffs?”

He’s rolling his eyes and snorting. “Let me out of the fuckin’ cuffs.” He chooses, smirking when you huff at him. “I’m good, baby. I promise.”

You giggle, “whatever you say, babe.” You straddle him, loving the way he groans and you grab his wrist, lifting it to your headboard to cuff one hand. You work fast to secure his other hand and you look down at him, “fuck. You look good like this. At my mercy.” You scrap your nails down his chest, loving the way his cock twitches against your ass. You bend down to press your lips to his for a moment until you pull back, reaching for the cup on the nightstand. “What-?” He asks but you shush him, taking a piece of ice in your hand. You shuffle down his body, pressing the ice to his chest, chuckling when he hisses, and you slowly drag the ice cube over his nipple. He clenches his jaw at the coldness but you remove the ice cube and flick your hot tongue over it.

He hisses at the sensation, drawn to the contrast of hot and cold and how it makes his skin ache. You are distracting him, you are his distraction. Blanking out his mind to everything but your touch. “Take off your panties.” He grunts. “Want to feel your pussy on me.” He begs but you just smirk and shake your head. “I’m in charge baby.” You coo, caressing his cheek and dragging the ice cube down the edge of his jaw. “You just lay there and let me take care of you.”

He groans and you giggle, dragging the ice cube down his neck, your tongue following its path. He hisses and you smile against his skin while you circle his other nipple with the ice. It’s melting fast and soon you are flicking your tongue over his nipple while you grab the cup of ice to get another cube. With the new cube in hand, you drag it down his belly, pressing hot kisses in the wake of the cold until you approach his cock. You settle between his legs and drag the ice along the underside of his cock that rests on his belly. He hisses and you smirk, removing the ice to drag your tongue along the same path, taking the head of his cock into your hot mouth.

“Fuuuuuck.” Javi hisses, eyes closing and his head tilts back against the pillows. His arms are stretched above his head and he loves how you are making him forget everything. It’s beautiful, all he can think about is what you are doing to him and how he wishes he could touch you. “Fuck yes baby,” he groans, opening his eyes and looking down. “Try- try the ice in your mouth.” He pants.

You pull off of him, shoving the small ice cube in your mouth then you take him again. The hot and cold are a striking contrast and you groan at the way his cock twitches in your mouth while you drag the ice cube down his length.

“Shit- oh fuck!” The handcuffs rattle slightly as he tugs against them and he can't help but try to rock his hips up. “You are - fuck - you are so goddamn perfect.”

He would deny he has ever whimpered in his life, but an almost tortured sound comes out of his mouth. Jaw slack and eyes closed again in pleasure as you suck his cock. “Fuck- I want- fuck, I want to lick your pussy.” He groans.

You should deny him. Make sure this is only about him, but his whimper and plea are so delicious. You pull off his cock and shift off the bed, shoving your panties down and taking your bra off. “You want me to sit on your face, baby?” You ask as you straddle his stomach, letting him feel how wet you are. “Please baby.” He huffs and you giggle, shifting up until you’re straddling his face. His hot breath washes over your folds and you lower your cunt to his mouth while gripping the headboard.

Javi can be generous, but he’s more so with you. He’s a little submissive. Something he had never had in a relationship before, something he never even thought about wanting but it seems natural with you. Sometimes you need him to give you what you need and right now, you are giving him what he needs. His tongue slides through your folds greedily, hungry for the taste of you and to give you a bit of the pleasure you give him.

You gasp his name as his hot tongue slides through your folds and flicks over your clit. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, trying not to grind down on his face when his hands are cuffed. You let go of the headboard to squeeze your breast with one hand, closing your eyes at the sensation, and you squeal when he sucks on your clit. “Javi, baby, you’re so good. Such a good boy.”

His neglected cock twitches at that statement and he should be pissed but he’s not. He’s liking it. He groans into your folds. Licking at your clit as much as he can.

You rock your hips, grinding down onto him as you reach back to wrap your fingers around his cock, wanting to feel him twitch in your hand while you rock on his tongue.

Javi groans happily into your cunt, bucking his hips up into your grip. Right here is where he could die happy, buried in your pussy with your hand wrapped around his cock. He’s never had the kind of feelings for someone like he feels for you, wanting to put you first instead of himself.

You work yourself on his tongue and it doesn't take long for you to fall apart above him, squeezing his cock as your thighs smother his face. "Fuck!" You cry, nearly falling backwards as you cum on his face.

Javi chuckles breathlessly, knowing that if he was uncuffed, he would flip you over and push into you right this second. He loves how you cum shamelessly, loving orgasms and sex as much as he does and you don’t play coy or demure.

You pant as you relax above him, releasing his cock from your grip, and you shift off his face. “I’m gonna ride you now.” You tell him, moving to grab a condom from your nightstand. “Gonna need a new box.” You tease as you straddle his thighs, opening the condom to roll it down his cock.

“That’s because we fuck all the time.” Javi groans as you wrap your hand around him and roll the rubber down his length. He smirks. “You’re addicted to my cock.”

“Don’t hear you complaining, officer Peña.” You snort and shift closer until you’re positioning him at your pussy so you can sink down onto him. “Fuck. I am addicted.” You confess breathlessly as he stretches you out. “I love it.” You whimper, shuffling a little until your knees are digging in the mattress so you can start to move on top of him.

“You look good on my cock.” Javi praises breathless. “Feels even better.” He watches your tits bounce slightly and groans when you swivel your hips and clench down around him. “Fuck, one day-“ he pants. “One day I’m gonna feel you without the condom.”

“I’m on the pill. I just - I wasn’t sure what you wanted.” You confess, “you want to feel me bare? Fill me up? Cum inside me? Officer?” You coo as you lean closer, pressing your lips to his chin as you rock back onto him.

Javi groans and chases your lips, huffing out a curse when you pull away from his reach and he can’t drag you back. “Yes, fuck yes.” He hisses. “Want to feel you bare around my cock.”

You know it’s a rash decision but you’re lost in the lust and security that you take the pill like clockwork. You shift back and lift off his cock, pulling off the condom, and you moan as you notch him back at your entrance, slowly sinking down to feel all of him without the barrier between you.

Javi moans your name, his hands curling into fists and he curses that he can’t touch you. “Fuck baby, yes.” He groans. “Just like- fuck- move.” He begs.

You chuckle, loving how wrecked he looks, and you shake your head. You stay still on his cock and he tries to rock his hips but you clench your thighs to stay still. "Hermosa." He whines and you lean forward, pressing your lips to his, "fuck, I love to hear you beg. Now I want to hear you moan." You murmur and rock back onto his cock, starting a pace that makes you look like you're in the Kentucky Derby.

His toes curl in pleasure and his entire body tenses. “Fuck!” He yelps, wanting more and not sure that he can take it. You are perfect, tight and hot around him and like a vice when you roll your hips just the right way. You’re beautiful and he loves it.

You love how wrecked he looks, his eyes glazed over as you rock on top of him. “Feel so good, Javi, baby. Oh shit. Feel like you’re in my guts. I love this.” You pant, your palms slapping against his chest as you ride him.

He’s never been such a passive participant in sex but all he can do is let you ride him, his hips are planted against the bed. His cock twitching every time you slam back down on him. “Fuck you need to cum.” He begs. “Cum baby, I’m not gonna last.”

He’s so whiney and you love it, reaching down to rub your clit, and you moan his name. “Feel so good, baby. I’m gonna - shit. Oh - oh!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and you soak him, loving how you feel every vein and ridge of his cock.

You clamp down around him and his feet curl in pleasure and he can’t help but rock his hips up. Your hips have stalled and you aren’t moving as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck baby, fuck, fuck.” He hisses, feeling his body pulling tight.

You want to see him fall apart, feel it inside you, so you grip the headboard over his head, stretching over his body. You slam your hips down against him, the sound filling the room and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up. Want you to cum inside me.”

It’s like he needed your permission. Rocking his hips up, your name is called out loudly as he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his seed. Panting and whining as he rides out the best fucking orgasm he’s ever had. “Fuuuuuuuck.”

The sensation of his hot cum filling you up has your walls fluttering around him again, a soft cry escaping your lips while you grind back against him. “Oh God.” You pant, shifting to press your lips to his as his cock twitches inside you.

Javi takes control of the kiss even if he can’t pull you closer. His tongue sliding into your mouth possessively and his moans flowing into your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. Only tempering the kiss when you collapse against him in pleasure.

Panting against his jaw, your body is buzzing but you manage to shift off him, fumbling for the key you placed on the nightstand next to the cup of now melted ice. You reach up, wanting to release him from the cuffs, and manage to free him after some struggle to get the key in during your post orgasm haze.

Javi watches you fumble with the key, his smile soft and he lifts his head to kiss right above your breast. “I love you.” He murmurs softly.

You are surprised, eyes widening and you stop what you’re doing to look down at him. He stares back and you see the apprehension in his eyes until you grin, “I love you too.” You surge down to press your lips to his, “I love you.” You murmur between pecks. “Let me -” You manage to finish unlocking his hands, the handcuffs heavy as you set them down on the nightstand.

His arms go around you, pulling you close and rolling you onto your back so he is hovering over you. Caging you with his body. “You have been the best thing to happen to me.” He promises, kissing you again. He’s not a man who gets sappy or waxes eloquent poems or constantly says ‘I love you’ but he shows he cares and he is happy you feel the same way. Feeling like this is supposed to be.

You can’t stop smiling, sliding your fingers through his hair and down his shoulders, “I love you, baby. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” You promise and sigh, feeling safe and warm in his arms. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have met him, to have him.

He kisses you again, rolling over and tucking you into his side. “Give me about ten minutes and I’ll show you how bad I can be.” He teases playfully, closing his eyes and sighing happily.

You giggle, caressing his chest, and you close your eyes. You never imagined you’d find someone like Javier and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. You hope he’s your person.

****

“Why are you nervous?” Javi chuckles as he holds your hand, pulling up to the small ranch house. “He’s going to love you.” It’s only two days later, but Javi knows that it’s the perfect time to introduce you to his dad. Wanting this to be permanent and let you get over the big ‘meet the family’ fear that you have.

You squeeze his hand, “I don’t want him to think - we got together so soon after you broke up with Lorraine and I just - I don’t want him to think less of me.” You confess with a shrug, “it’s, uh, it’s important that he likes me.” You bite your lip and look at his childhood home.

“Baby, he’s gonna love you.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “He never really liked Lorraine, to be honest.” He flashes you a grin. “So you’re already better.”

You chuckle, relaxing a little, and you let him open your door before you walk to the front door and Chucho opens it, a big smile on his face. “So you’re the reason my son can’t stop smiling nowadays.” He winks and Javi blushes, “Pa.” He says and Chucho tuts, “he’s never here but I can see why. He didn’t exaggerate your beauty.” He says and you fluster, reaching for his hand and he pulls you in for a hug. You tear up a little, reminded of your father and how long it’s been since you had a hug like this, and you hug him back. “Javi said you are a charmer. I guess that’s where he gets it.” You tease and Chucho chuckles, guiding you into his home, and you immediately feel at ease.

Javi smiles at the way his dad is flirting with you. He would barely talk to Lorraine and it’s just another indicator that he has made the right choice with you. “Let me get everyone a drink while you two talk.” He winks at you and goes into the kitchen.

You sit down on the sofa with Chucho and demand he tells you about Javier and he chuckles, “Oh, I have some stories.” He begins to tell you about a teenage Javier and you hear the phone ring.

Javi rolls his eyes as he picks up the phone. “Peña residence.” He answers like he has his entire life. “Javi.” He groans and turns towards the kitchen door to make sure you don’t hear him. “Why the fuck are you calling, Lorraine?” He demands quietly.

“I’m surprised I got you. I’ve heard all about your little diner skank that you’ve been fucking. My friends have seen you around town. Told me all about your little dates. You never took me bowling.” She huffs and Javier rolls his eyes, “what do you want?” He demands again and she snorts, “I was calling to tell you I’m pregnant. I just found out. Went to the doctor to make sure and I’m about ten weeks.”

Javi’s stomach drops, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. “Bullshit.” He huffs, “we used a condom every time.” Lorraine scoffs. “You know it’s not one hundred percent.” She reminds him and he shoves his hand through his hair. “So what? You need money for an abortion?” He asks, hoping that she wants to get rid of the baby.

She scoffs, “I’m not getting rid of it. I’m keeping the baby.” She declares, “and I want us to meet. Try and work this out. I know your dad will kill you if you don’t stand by me, do the right thing. You need to take responsibility for your actions, Javier.” Lorraine announces and hears his heavy breathing through the phone.

Fuck. Javi’s eyes close and he screws his face up in anger and confusion. She's right, Chucho would kill him. “Goddamnit.” He hisses, angry at himself because he’s going to have to break up with you. “Yeah, fine.” He spits out. “Tomorrow.” He hangs up the phone and sighs.

You are laughing at something Chucho says when Javi walks back into the room, looking a little pale. “Everything okay, babe?” You ask and frown when he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah.” He murmurs and hands you a coke and his pop a beer. “Everything’s good.” He shrugs. “Got asked to take a double shift tomorrow.”

You nod, not sure if you believe him, but you can ask him later and you watch him as you sip your drink. He’s tense, like when he’s had a bad shift, but you try to focus on Chucho, wanting to make a good impression. Soon enough, you’re saying goodbye to Chucho with a promise to see him for dinner and Javier guides you to his truck to drive you home and you’re hoping he stays the night again since you don’t have an early shift. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, reaching out to caress his arm as he drives, “you seem so tense. You need a blowjob?” You tease, sliding your hand down to his lap.

“No.” He grabs your hand before you can touch his cock and laces his fingers with yours. “No, I’m good, baby.” He promises you. “I just have a headache.” He’s fucking praying that this is some kind of horrible joke or desperate attempt to get him back and he can tell her to fuck off and then explain everything to you. “I’m sorry I’m not better company tonight.”

You stare at him until you nod, “it’s okay. I have some Advil if you want.” You offer but he shakes his head, “I think I need an early night. Too many damn long shifts.” He says and you bring his hand up to kiss the back of his. “Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you later.” You promise, not wanting him to get sick because he’s working too hard. He pulls up outside your house and you shuffle closer, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. “It was great to meet your dad. I really like him. Good thing when I love his son.” You smirk and nudge your nose against his when he turns towards you.

“I love you.” The gruff words come out a little desperate, like he wants you to remember that in the future. He kisses you, devouring your mouth in one last kiss like it will be his last and he hates to break away. “Goodnight baby.”

You peck his lips, “goodnight, handsome.” You pat his chest and grab your purse, shifting out of his truck and you make your way to your front door, feeling his eyes on you as you unlock your door. You wave to him before you step inside and he sits there for a second until he finally pulls away. He needs to speak to Lorraine.

****

It takes him two days to call you. Swallowing harshly as the phone connects, his heart leaps when he hears your voice but he hates what he has to do. “Hey, it’s me.” He announces. “Hey baby, I’ve tried to call you.” You pout softly, and he closes his eyes. “Yeah I know. Listen - I, this isn’t working out. Okay?” He tells you. “I’m not gonna string you along. So yeah.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut when you hear his words. You choke, trying to get your voice to work, “I- I don’t understand. What’s - why?” You blink, trying to stop the tears. “It’s just too much. I don’t want anything too heavy. I want to have fun.” He lies and you frown, “I didn’t want - I didn’t - okay.” You choke on a sob, “uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He hums, “yeah. Goodbye.” He says your name and the line goes dead. You sob, letting the phone hang from the cord and you collapse on the wall.

****

“Why the fuck do you want to go here?” Javi protests, pulling away from Lorraine as she steers him towards the dinner. “What does it matter?” She smirks at him and reaches for his hand again. “You’re through with her, right? So she’s just a waitress.” Javi shakes his head. “Goddamnit Lorraine.” He hisses and she pouts, stroking her flat stomach. “Don’t curse, it’s not good for the baby.” She’s been smug about their relationship, happy that he is back with her, even if she knows that he is unhappy.

You are clearing a table when the bell above the door rings and your eyes widen when you see Javier and Lorraine. “Son of a bitch.” You mutter, unable to believe he’s back with her. He told you stories about how she would bully him into working for her dad, or calling in sick. She is controlling and you can’t believe he’s gone back to her. Maybe you were just a bit of fun. Your coworker offers to take the table but you shake your head, knowing you can’t run and hide. You walk over to their table and set some menus down. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You ask after you introduce yourself, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you look at Lorraine.

“Baby, what should I have?” She asks coyly. “You’ve been here so much more than I have.” She flutters her lashes at Javi and he huffs, pulling his hand away when she reaches for him and leans back. “Just order a fucking drink.” He hisses, wishing that she had chosen any other restaurant in Laredo, but he’s sure she’s done this on purpose.

“I can’t have coffee. Maybe decaf.” She hums and you nod, “I’ll get you a decaf.” wondering if she has sleeping issues. You grab Javier a coffee without him asking and set them both down on the table after you breathe deeply at the coffee pots. “Can I get you anything to eat?” You ask, trying not to cry at how insane this situation is. “There’s a lot of things I can’t have but I’m starving. I’m eating for two.” She grins, placing her hand on her lower stomach. Your eyes widen and you nearly drop your pad, feeling like your heart has been crushed and you finally look at Javier.

Javi wants to just disappear, his eyes find yours and he begs you to understand. “Ten weeks.” He chokes out, wanting you to know that he didn’t cheat on you. This is a fucked up situation and he wishes it was you sitting opposite him.

You swallow harshly, knowing he got her pregnant just before he met you and it stings. You want to crawl under the table and sob but you won't give Lorraine the satisfaction. "Co-congrats." You offer him a weak smile and she beams, "we are so happy." Javier doesn't look happy but you tap your pen on your pad, "food?" You choke and Lorraine hums, ordering the oatmeal and Javier orders the All American just like he did the first time you met him. "Coming right up." You squeak and slam the ticket down for Adrian who offers you a look that says "I told you so" and you rush out the back door, covering your mouth as you try to not cry.

“Where are you going?” Javi is halfway out of his seat when Lorraine grabs his arm. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He hisses, jerking his arm away from her. “Quit being a bitch.” He turns around and strides towards the back door, bypassing the bathrooms.

The door opens and you are leaning against the wall when you see him walk towards you. "Don't" You plead, shaking your head. "Don't make this worse. Just go back in there and - and be with her." You plead, knowing that hearing his excuses will make you cry.

Javi stops and takes a breath. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He promises you. “I’m so fucking sorry, hermosa.” He whispers before he turns back around and leaves like you want him to.

You watch him go until he heads back inside and you tilt your head back, refusing to let the tears fall and give Lorraine the satisfaction. You know he didn't cheat on you and that's what makes this worse. You love him but he has to be there for his child. Javier isn't the kind of man to walk away from responsibility and you know that's what he is with her. Time wasn't on your side and that's tragic. You compose yourself and walk back in, grabbing the food from the hot plate and you set it down. "Enjoy." You say flatly and walk off, leaving them to eat. When they are done, you remove the plates - Javier's food is hardly touched- and set the check down, not saying a word. Javier grabs his wallet and sets down more cash than the check. You don't walk over there to grab it, watching as Lorraine makes a show of getting out the booth and placing her hand on her stomach like she's seven months gone. "Thanks so much." Lorraine smirks, "maybe we will be back here with our baby for breakfast after church. We will see you then." She chuckles and grabs Javier, his eyes meeting yours and he nods before she is dragging him from the diner. You don't see Javier again. You decided, just before Javier's wedding day, to go on a trip. Get out of town and escape from the news that your love had gotten married. You don't hear the news that he didn't marry Lorraine until you return. When you're back. you hear that Javier had left to go join the DEA. Timing was never on your side.

****

“Where do you want to go eat?” Chucho asks and Javi shrugs. “Don’t know too many places open on Thanksgiving.” He answers, although he immediately thinks of the diner. He’s driven by there a few times in the days since he’s been home, but he’s never stopped in. “Well, damnit, I’m hungry.” His dad grumbles and Javi shakes his head. “Come on.” He huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Since you didn’t go grocery shopping, let’s go somewhere. Maybe they are still open on Thanksgiving.”

You smile at the old man who gives you a large tip for the holiday. You shove the money in the tip jaw to be split between you and Adrian when the bell rings. You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Chucho followed by a man you haven't seen in years. You inhale sharply, walking over to them. "Chucho. It's good to see you." You smile at the old man who you've seen at the store and around town several times. He never tried to justify his son's behavior and you never held malice towards him. "Happy Thanksgiving." You say and glance around, "pick any table. I'll get you some menus."

Javi stares, unable to believe that you are here. It’s like he’s dreaming like he has so many times before, coming into the diner to find you waiting for him. He murmurs your name and nods. “Good, uh, to see you.” He tells you, his heart pounding but you have to hate him, or at least think he’s an asshole. He is an asshole for what he did to you.

You finally look at him and God, he's still so fucking handsome. He has more lines on his face, but he still makes your heart pound. You hadn't heard about a child being born so you don't know what happened but you had heard Lorraine is now married to some big wig oil guy living in Dallas with two kids. "Good to see you." You murmur, turning around to grab some menus.

Javi’s eyes drop down to your ass before he looks away guiltily. He doesn’t need to be eying you like he had a chance, you’re probably married and have a couple of kids by now. “You shouldn’t have let that one get away.” Chucho tells him, having watched the way his son watched you. “Colombia might have been different.” Javi sighs and leans back. “Yeah, I know.” He grunts, glancing back at you as you come back with the menus, “believe me.”

You set the menus down, “coffee?” You ask and both men nod. You walk off to grab the pot and two cups, hating how your stomach feels like lead around Javier. It’s been years but you still think about him. You’ve been in and out of relationships but no one ever stuck in your heart like Javier did. Ridiculous considering you were together for two months. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask, grabbing your pad.

Chucho orders the Thanksgiving special and looks towards his son. Javi doesn’t even glance at the menu, too busy staring at you. “The All American if you still have it.” He tells you softly, glancing at your hand and noticing that you aren’t wearing a ring. You might just not wear one at work, but he’s selfishly hoping you are single even though you deserve someone to love and worship you.

Your heart twists at the familiar order and you nod, “hash browns, not grits.” You remember and he offers you a soft smile that makes your throat tighten. “That’ll be right out.” You nod and take the menus, handing the ticket to Adrian. “She owns the place now.” Chucho tells his son, not having spoken to him about you until today.

Javi’s brow shoots up and looks over at your back, watching as you methodically organize the condiments to bring over to them. “She deserves it.” He murmurs, thinking that you deserved a lot of nice things in life. “How often do you come here?” He asks.

“Couple of times a month when I want breakfast.” Chucho confesses, “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business. She’s a good girl and I think you made a huge mistake letting Lorraine drag you along but it wasn’t my life. She is single, in case you were wondering. No husband or kids.” Chucho reveals quietly, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Pa.” Javi hates how his entire body thrills at the news that you are single. “She hates me. She has to fucking hate me after what I did.” He reminds his dad. “There’s not a chance in hell I would ever have another chance with her.” He watches as you turn back towards him and swallows. “Shit.”

You set the condiments down, feeling Javier’s eyes on you, and you smile at Chucho, “it’s good to see you again.” You tell his father, “your food will be out soon.” You walk away from the table, feeling Javier’s eyes on you and you reach for the menus, deciding to clean them off while you wait for their food.

“The least you could do is apologize.” Chucho huffs, making Javi’s shoulders round slightly. He knows that he owes you an apology and he sighs after a moment, tapping the table and standing up to walk over to you. “Can I talk to you?” He asks, sure that you will tell him to fuck off.

You glance at the empty diner and nod, gesturing for Javier to walk out the back door with you. You will let him give you his explanation, curious about why he didn’t end up marrying Lorraine. “Talk.” You order when you’re outside.

He’s nervous, rubbing his hands on his jeans and chuckles slightly. “Uh, so- uh, I owe you an apology.” He starts off. “I’m sorry. Lorraine called me, that day you met Pa and she told me she was pregnant.” He explains, knowing that it’s no excuse. “I was - shit, I was so angry at myself, because she wanted to get married for the baby, and I fucking just knew I had to marry that bitch.” He sighs. “And?” You prompt. “The night before the wedding she claimed she ‘had a miscarriage’.” He snorts. “I knew then that she had been faking the entire thing. Her cousin confessed. She knew we were together. Someone had see us out in town and she lied because she knew I wouldn’t shirk my responsibilities.”

You cross your arms, letting him sweat. You’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened. You huff, “did you not get her to take a pregnancy test?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she had a scan and a doctor’s test result.” You snort, “she’s inventive. Smarter than I gave her credit for.” You rub your forearms, “you really hurt me. I thought we had something. I really loved you. You devastated me and I had to work hard to recover from that, which is insane because we only dated for two months. You’ve been on my mind during every date I’ve been on. Compared every man I’ve been in a relationship with to you. I hated you for so long because you haunted me.” You shake your head and lower your arms, stepping back.

Javi sighs softly and doesn’t reach for you. “It’s safe to say you haunted me too.” He admits. “I- I came by your house.” He confesses softly. “The day I- my wedding day. I came to tell you how stupid I had been. How I wasn’t marrying her and that if you could take an idiot back, I would love you forever.” He flashes you a rueful grin. “You weren’t home that day. Or any day for the week that I came to your door.” He snorts. “Almost thought you had sold the house and moved.”

You stare at him, seeing the truth in his eyes, "I left town. Went away so I didn't show up at the church and try to get you to call it off." You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head. "I loved you so much I even considered telling you I'd be there for your child with Lorraine but I didn't want to be selfish and break up a family. I left and when I came back, I heard you'd joined the DEA. figured something had happened to the baby and you'd left Lorraine."

“Never was a baby, just a woman jealous that I had moved on.” He shakes his head. “I haven’t even dated since then.” You snort in disbelief and he nods. “I’m serious. I- fuck-“ he shuffles slightly in embarrassment. “I paid for sex when I needed it.”

Your eyes widen, "you paid for sex? You could've gotten sex for free every day night here." You chuckle and he shakes his head, "did it for intel on Escobar and for company, I guess." He shrugs and you smirk, "guessing you learned a few things down in Colombia?"

Javi smirks back at you and nods. “I have.” He admits. “Gave me a discount if I made them cum more than once.” He jokes.

"You must've gotten it nearly free." You playfully roll your eyes, remembering how good he was. "I've missed you. You look - you look like you've got the world on your shoulders." You observe, "not as carefree as I remember you."

“Colombia was tough.” He admits, shuffling slightly. “I’ve missed you too. A lot.” He had thought of you every day but figured that might be a little creepy. “You look good. Happy. You bought the place?”

“Yeah. Took some equity from my parent’s house to buy it when the old owner wanted to sell. I couldn’t imagine working anywhere else and I love it. It’s home for me.” You smile, glancing back at the diner. “I’m happy but not as happy as the time I spent with you.”

“Me neither.” Javi shuffles again and looks down at his feet before peering back at you. “I have no right to ask, and tell me to go to hell if you want, but how about I take you on a date?” He offers. “You might find I’m a miserable son of a bitch and the best thing I ever did for you was leave.” He shrugs. “And then you’ll at least get dinner out of it.”

You are shocked and bite your lip, uncertain of giving him a chance after how much he hurt you but you remember it wasn’t him, it was Lorraine. You nod, offering him a soft smile, “I’d like that. Just - just don’t hurt me again.” You plead softly, “you want to go get your food? It should be ready.”

“Only if you sit down with us?” He asks, smiling in relief that you are willing to give him another chance. Those two months were the best of his life and he still loves you now. Your memory helped him through some tough times and you didn’t even know it.

You nod, “okay.” You open the back door and Javier follows you inside. Adrian has the food ready so you grab it, carrying it over to the table, and Javier sits down, winking at you. You head over to grab a cup of coffee, “Adrian. You can take a break.” You tell the cook who grunts and eyes Javier through the window. You make your way back to the table with your cup of coffee and you take a seat next to Javier. Chucho’s eyes widen and you smile, flustered by the knowing look on the old man’s face.

“You apologize?” Chucho huffs and Javi rolls his eyes. “Yes, pa, I apologized. I have a lot to make up for.” He glances at you and smirks. “But I’ll grovel as long as I need to.”

You look at Chucho, “he has a lot of grovelling to do.” You tease and Chucho nods, “he absolutely does.” He raises his eyebrows at his son as he cuts up his food. After they eat, you clear the plates and Chucho goes to take out his wallet, “it’s on the house. Happy Thanksgiving.” You smile and Chucho shakes his head, “she’s always giving me free food.” He opens his wallet and pulls out some cash, “get yourself something nice or put it in the tip jar.” He says and it’s clear this is a routine the two of you have.

“How long are you going to be open for?” Javi asks after Chucho makes a comment about being out in the truck and leaving his son behind.

You glance at the clock, “not too much longer. I like to shut earlier on Thanksgiving nowadays.” You admit, “give Adrian time with his boyfriend and I was planning on having a bath.” You chuckle, “got myself some new bath bombs.”

Javi frowns for a moment before he understands. “Oh, those little fizzy things, right?” He asks, not having taken too many baths. He mainly sticks with showers. “That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be able to unwind.” He comments. “You still have the day after Thanksgiving off?” He asks. “Or does the boss work all the time?”

“I have Jean opening tomorrow so the boss has the day off. I was thinking about doing some Black Friday shopping. Unless someone else would like to do some groveling?” You hum, tilting your head at Javier.

He grins at you. “I think I should probably start, don’t you think?” He asks, shrugging slightly. “I can hold your bags if you want.”

“You hate shopping.” You remember and Javier chuckles, “exactly. Part of the grovelling process.” He winks and you smirk, looking at Chucho who is grinning. “Very well, Peña. Pick me up tomorrow at 10am. Bring your badge. I think it could come in handy in standoffs for the good stuff.” You wink and Javier snorts, “it’s a date.” You smile, “yeah. It’s a date.” You murmur softly, heart thumping again.

****

You hadn’t been lying when you said you wanted to go shopping. You’ve dragged him to every store in town, but Javi hasn’t complained. He’s let you shop and given you his opinion as you look through different items. The grin you throw at him occasionally tells him that you are testing him, but he just smiles back and offers to hold whatever bag you are carrying.

When you pull up outside your house, you turn towards Javier. He’s told you some things about Colombia during the day and you can see how haunted he is by his time there. You haven’t pushed but he’s not the Javier you knew, he’s deeper, darker, but there’s times where you see the funny, lighthearted Javier you loved and you know you’ve changed too. You still love him but now there’s more to love, no matter how dark those parts may be. You turn to look at him, “I think I need help taking all these bags into the house.” You hum, grabbing your purse.

“Of course.” He climbs out of the car and opens the back door. You’ve also got a ton of shit in the trunk, but he doesn’t complain as he starts to pile bags onto his arms. Hopefully he can get it all in two trips. Maybe three with that new coffee maker you bought at Belk.

You grab some bags and make your way to your front door, unlocking it, and you punch in your alarm code while Javier walks in behind you to place your bags down. You walk into the house to turn on the lights while Javier finishes his last trip for your things. He shuts your front door and you walk over to him, “thank you for doing that. Very good groveling.” You tease, placing your palms on his chest.

He huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes at you. “At least you’re having fun with this.” He tells you. He licks his lips and his eyes slide down to your mouth before he looks up again. “You need me to do anything else for you?” He asks, voice dropping slightly.

You bite your lip, knowing you shouldn’t rush into anything but you’ve lost so much time with him thanks to Lorraine. He left to go fight the bad guys in Colombia and you can’t blame him for doing what he thought was best. “You could kiss me.” You murmur and he nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

Kissing you is like coming home. Javi groans as you soften against him, folding you up in his arms and deepening the kiss. Almost fearful of being rejected he takes his time and slowly slides his tongue against your lips to beg for entrance.

You eagerly open your mouth, your tongue sweeping against his and his groan vibrates against your lips. The kiss makes your heart flutter and you slide your hands to cup his cheeks, pressing yourself against him and you’re brought back to that first night you slept with Javi.

Kissing you know is just as addictive as it had been so long ago. Maybe more so because he knows exactly what he has. He curls you into him, eager to taste every bit of your mouth and overwhelm you both with the passion the is mounting.

You can tell he’s changed. His kiss is harsher, more desperate, and you can sense the turmoil behind it compared to the playfulness of so many years ago. You let him back you against your front door, your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt while he hardens against your thigh. You whine when he pulls back from your lips, kissing down your neck while his hands fumble with the button of your jeans. You moan when his fingers slide under the denim, finding your clit, and you manage to get his shirt open, trailing your hands along his chest.

He needs to pull away and ask if you are okay with this, if you want him, but he can’t. Too afraid of rejection right now as his fingers caress your folds and rub circles on your clit. He promised you he would grovel and he huffs to himself as he kisses down your chest and mouths at your breast over your shirt and bra, biting sharply before he’s sinking down to his knees in front of you.

You look down at him in surprise, shocked that he’s on his knees, working on pulling your jeans down. “What are you doing?” You ask breathlessly and he looks up at you, smirking, “I said I’d grovel on my knees.” You chuckle, nodding as you step out of your jeans and he hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down. “I’ve missed you.” You gasp when he leans in to kiss your thigh.

“Missed you too.” He groans. “Missed this pussy. Your taste.” He presses his nose to the thatch of hair between your thighs and inhales. “Your smell. You have the best fucking smell, baby. Missed your laugh. Your smile.” Everything that he lists is punctuated with kisses around your pelvis and thighs. “The way you would curl against me to sleep.” He looks up at you. “I wasn’t lying to you, I loved you. I still love you.” He promises. “I never stopped.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him. No one has ever compared to him and you know you'll always love him. You run your fingers through his hair, "me neither. Always loved you." You promise and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. "Fuck." You pant as he flicks over your clit, his hands grabbing your ass to tilt your hips. You lift your leg onto his shoulder and you whimper when he wraps his arm around your thigh, burying his face in your cunt.

He’s sloppy and eager, rushing to make you moan his name again. He has dreamed of that sound for years. Closing his eyes and humming as his tongue flicks over your clit again and moves lower to push inside your wet walls. Drowning in your essence happily as he grovels before you.

It's been so long since you were worshiped like this and you tilt your head against the door, closing your eyes. "Fuck, Peña. Missed that tongue. You've gotten better." You observe, loving how he laps at you and it doesn't take long to work you up. You're soon panting, chest heaving, and your thigh shakes when he sucks on your clit. "Oh fuck!" You yelp, stomach twisting as you fall apart on his tongue.

His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as your knees threaten to buckle and he moans into your cunt. Working you through it with determination until you’re whimpering and then he’s pulling back with a satisfied grin. “Still tastes so good.” He praises, kissing your hip.

You drag him up from the floor, lowering your leg and you press your lips to his while you push his shirt off his shoulders. "Bed. Want you in my bed." You order, letting his shirt drop to the floor as you grab his hand and drag him to the same bedroom he knew those years ago.

He chuckles as he lets you take him wherever you want to go. “I want to be in your bed.” He promises, reaching out with his free hand and snagging your waist to drag you closer and pressing his lips to your again. Sliding his hands up your back to unclip your bra beneath your t-shirt.

You let him pull your shirt over your head after he breaks the kiss, dragging your bra down your arms, and you toss them to the floor as you stumble into your bedroom. "Fuck, you've gotten more handsome." You observe when he pushes you onto your bed and you bounce while he works on taking off his jeans as he kicks off his shoes.

“That’s you.” He huffs. “Prettier than the day I met you.” He kneels on the bed after he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it. “Fuck- I - I don’t have a condom.” He groans, eyes slipping closed. “I’ve been tested, but I-“

"I'm on the pill. I'm clean. I trust you. Please Jav. I need you." You know it's reckless but you want to feel him again. "If not, I have a condom." You add, wanting him to be comfortable and you bat his hand away to pump his cock.

“Fuck, you know I want to feel you.” He groans and rolls his hips into your firm grip. “Lay back and spread your legs, baby.” He begs. “Let me fuck you.”

You nod, spreading your legs, and he shuffles closer. When he notches himself at your pussy, your eyes flutter closed when he pushes into you. “Look at me.” He demands gruffly and you whimper, opening your eyes as he shifts to hover over you. You immediately cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth down to yours. You shouldn’t forgive him for breaking your heart but you need to. He was trying to do the right thing which was being with the mother of his child but you know he didn’t love her, he loved you.

Javi gives you everything in the kiss. Everything he has emotionally. Pouring himself into you as he slowly inches into your body. Sliding into your heat and feeling like he's come home again.

You caress his shoulders and down his back, loving how he feels. Your walls flutter around him as he stretches you out and you close your eyes, “love you, baby.” You murmur, feeling surrounded by him and you love how he starts to move. He feels more experienced and stronger but you don’t mind.

“Feel so good, so perfect.” He grunts, trying to keep from thrusting too deep or too hard so quickly. You probably haven’t had sex in a while and he doesn’t want to make even a second of this uncomfortable.

You can see how tense he is with the way he clenches his jaw and you want him to fuck you, to claim you. “Need more. Want you to make me yours.” You order, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Once you give him permission, Javi lets himself go. Snapping his hips harshly and filling you with hard strokes that gave him grunting as you clung to him. “Fuck, fuck.” He hisses. “Need this, need you.”

He takes your breath away as he thrusts into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Your heels dig into his ass and your nails scratch down his back. “Javi!” You cry, watching his nose flare as he rocks into you. “I- shit - so close. Keep - just like that.”

He grunts, it’s all he can do right now as he rocks into you. Feeling like your walls gripping him is his salvation and losing himself in the soul searing pleasure.

Your walls flutter around him as you are pushed higher and higher. His lips press against your neck, shifting his body to kiss down and take your nipple into his mouth. It’s hot and he bites down, making you react immediately. You clamp down onto his cock, your moan of his name echoing in your room as you soak him.

It’s what he needed to feel. The hit clench of your walls around him, the slick drenching his cock. Javi groans your name, pushing deep as his thrusts falter and he starts to pulse inside you. Closing his eyes and your name becomes a prayer on his lips.

You kiss everywhere you can reach as he twitches inside you, painting your walls. He pants when he stills above you and you caress his back, your body buzzing with emotion. Tears sting in your eyes and you sniff, making him jerk his head up to look at you, “did I hurt you?” He asks immediately and you shake your head, “no. No. I’m just - I’m happy.” You murmur, “so happy that you’re here.” You confess and he kisses your lips, nudging his nose against yours before he kisses your forehead. “I’m not leaving.” He promises and you caress his cheek, closing your eyes. “I’m home, baby.” He vows.

****

“Javi!” You call out, “can you get your Pa another beer?” You ask and Javier comes back from the kitchen to set a beer down on the table for his father and he sets your glass of wine down on the table. “Thanks babe.” You peck his lips when he leans in to kiss you and his head caresses the baby that you cradle. “How is he?” He asks and you smile, looking down at the baby. “Fed and ready for a nap with his daddy. Mama needs her wine. Good thing I have milk stored.” You chuckle and you adjust the baby in your arms to slide him into Javier’s arms so you can tuck your breast away.

Chucho looks away to be polite and Javier carries the baby into his room, laying him down in his crib. He watches his son for a moment and caresses his cheek, grabbing the baby monitor. He walks back into the dining room and sets the monitor down, picking up his beer, “the food looks delicious, baby.” He says and you smile, “Javier did most of the work today. Adrian helped me prep. We split the cooking so he could take some home to his boyfriend.” You confess and Chucho hums, “it looks incredible, mija.” Javier raises his beer, “happy Thanksgiving.” He toasts and you clink your wine glass against his bottle and Chucho’s bottle. “To the day we met.” You toast back and Javier smiles, leaning over to kiss you softly. This Thanksgiving is very different from past ones. No longer hanging around a diner for a breakfast during his shift, this year he’s spending Thanksgiving with his Pa, his son, and his beautiful wife. He’s truly blessed.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña imagine #javier peña fanfiction

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 day ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬

summary_ having an affair with General Acacius overseas while conquering lands turned into a problem after coming back to Rome, when you fell for a gladiator that turned out to be a missing prince.

warnings_ CRINGE, girthy age gap (legal) (I’m 20, sorry) historical inaccuracy, angst, violence, gore, animal death, sexism and misogyny, fluff but angst, a lot of canon divergence bc I said so. NO PROOFREAD, BEWARE!

note_ i can’t remember if Denzel’s character was named Macrino, I can’t remember which year the movie is set in, I can’t remember many things but let me know if I fucked up too much. And listen to fallen fruit from Lorde while reading.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | ✰ Index (+ fics here)

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The sea was a free land. Nobody could conquer it because there wasn’t anything valuable floating around. Perhaps at the bottom of the ocean, a treasure may lay, but no man had shown the desire to dive into the deep.

The screams of the innocents are loud enough to make you feel empathy for them. But Acacius had trained you to put a mask of neutrality when leading war.

Loving the most effective soldier of Rome was your little secret. He married the daughter of an old emperor and he fought to get her privileges and prevent her from danger.

Always the insane little girl running around the palace, rambling about plants, the stars, a dream of Rome in flames. It was enough to be secretly sent to a scribe's university in Egypt for some time.

Upon your return, not much had changed, only that your father, once lead of the council, then the wise of Rome had died. Consequently, your evil stepbrothers were crowned emperors. They named you a soldier and made sure you were at every battlefront, hoping for your death.

But your general trained you well, and with months of practice, you ended up tangled up with him on his sheets in Greece.

Adultery was considered a crime in Rome and you’d give the perfect reason to your brothers to burn you like a witch. Or worse, to send you to fight at the arena of the Colosseum.

But the people who accompanied you and Acacius overseas were loyal and couldn’t care less if you had an older man fucking you each night. They only cared about you being a good soldier on the battlefront and being a good princess in Rome.

With a couple of hours left to be home again, you had your wounds checked. Conquering Numidia was one of the last African cities to be marked by the Romans and your brothers desperately wanted to own it. Only a few burns scattered across your leg and your shoulder needed stitches were the price to pay.

The wooden floor creaked and the general turned around alert but as soon as he saw you, he seemed to calm down.

Your arms wrapped around him and he immediately had to lean and kiss you. His lips tasted like devotion, peace, and lust. Acacius always grabbed your hips first. Then he moved to your waist, only to end up caressing your cheeks as his lips kept marking you his.

“What did the doctor say?” asked Acacius as he gasped for air.

“Nothing to worry about…” You nodded at him and he turned his back to you again, looking at his open windows, to the sea.

“What about yours? How is the scar on your nose?”

“It’s fine. Could’ve been worse” You walked towards him, sensing he had bathed like you as well, his hair looked perfectly curly and you couldn’t help but smile.

You could stay looking at the horizon forever, just because he was by your side. The sound of the waves calmed your mind after another day of calamities brought by war.

“For those who chose the sea, greatness waits at the end of the rainbow,” you said smiley. But the general remained stood silent.

“Those are ludicrous tells, the truth is that even war has infected the sea as well.”

“Because we chose to fight, then yes, the sea is also an arena. But if we chose not to, the way will not depict war” his eyes kept looking at you, completely fixated and even threatening, like Acacius was trying to understand how much you were judging him.

“We do this because we don’t have any other choice, princess y/n,” Acacius said, finally turning to look at you.

“We could run away, to the south, the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea are empty, nobody wants to live there” your voice trembling, nervous and waiting for his response. He stared at nothing, probably thinking. And that made you uneasy.

“I can’t leave Rome, I have to go back to…” he said coldly.

“Your wife….Right”

Silence. Even the sea seized the sound of the waves.

“Haven’t you told her?”

“What’s there to be told? I said this was only a thing of passion and lust” You bit your tongue at his harsh words.

“Was it? Would you say that all those nights you shared your past with me meant nothing, Marcus?”

There it was. His most personal name, that one nobody used. The general got closer to you, paying attention to your face. Princesses did not have scars, but you did. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t. You noticed how his fingers were about to trace the pink scar on your chin but he moved away.

“I was drunk most of the nights, doping the pain” Finally your eyes crystallized.

“Do you love Lucilla, General?” His steps stopped then turned around to face you one last time.

His eyes looked doubtful but soon landed on his feet.

“… I do love her” you nodded, holding the tears and bursting out of his room in anger.

“Of course you do”

Your disappointment was so evident that Acacius was able to look at your face reddening and tears falling freely. He could only sigh and go back to pack his things and get ready to arrive in Rome again.

If only you knew…

…

The crowds of Rome couldn’t stop screaming your name. It was “PRINCESS Y/N!” and “ACACIUS!” everywhere.

You were no hero, you just wanted a peaceful life in a free Rome with the man you loved. And you can feel his hand brushing yours while his left salutes the parade of people chanting both of your names. The truth is you have no purpose but to serve your brothers and pretend that is your life.

The twins always hated you. Their mother was a wealthy woman but yours was the emperor’s true love. The twins used to pull your hair and always picked poisonous berries to give you as a meal while being toddlers. It got worse as everyone noticed you were your father’s favorite. And with him gone, you were utterly alone in the world.

Your clumsy steps made you arrive later. There was no crown for you waiting like it had been for Acacius. Geta and Caracalla were talking to him. And when you noticed the sword in the general’s neck, your face went serious.

“Do not forget the privileges we’ve made for your wife” you heard Geta saying.

“Same benefits we’re making for your whores, frater” The twins turned to look at you, quickly releasing Acacius and going straight to you. Their golden armors were a mere matter of display. They could barely wield a sword. They were bad with the bow and arrow and their reflections were poor too. They were good with numbers and shapes, but that wasn’t much in the city they shaped. One full of segregation and violence.

“Dear, soror… you’re back…” you think Geta gets closer to hug you, but his hand has raised and he gives you a sharp slap across the cheek.

“Dazzling and with such a big mouth as always” he added while you looked down, your cold hand against the reddening skin and sending him the worst look you had.

“Leave the princess alone, emperor. We should be focusing on the games ahead. We brought many slaves that some of them could fit as gladiators” Acacius said, looking affectionately at you, with disguise.

Caracalla only laughs in your face and his monkey reaches you for some seconds, but your brother pulls him away quickly. You wonder how far his disease has spread. Before leaving Rome, he was completely against seeing a doctor.

“Acacius is right, Geta. Let’s focus on the games” the twins agreed but sure, they had to humiliate you one last time.

“Alright then. But the next time I see you, dear y/n… I don’t want to see your hair down freely. You look like a whore and not the princess of Rome” he whispered loud enough to make everyone hear. But finally, the twins were gone.

“Are you alright?” The general asked but you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t need your help, Acacius. I’ve dealt with Geta and Caracalla since the day I was born. Which was before we met you” he sighed, understanding you were still mad from your last conversation. He appreciated your free hair, long and healthy despite the fires you went through while in combat.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt. It’s enough they sent you to serve in the war when you should be here, safe from the horrors”

“Go home to your wife, Acacius. Your dinner will be cold…” you spit out with a bitter tone before walking away, disappearing through the walls of the palace.

…

Standing naked, dripping, and waiting for servants to dry you up, you stare at the dress hanging in your room. It had been months since you wore a dress, used to armor and tight braids, and the sensation of the fabric felt odd.

As a kid, you wished to befriend your servants, but they remained professional and apologetically brushed away your questions. Which made you feel even more lonely while they dressed you up; placing gold jewelry and rings with quartz, spraying perfume, and cleaning your teeth. Geta and Caracalla always stole the sweets from you as kids, you thanked them because instead, it was Caracalla who ended up with a decayed tooth and a gold one as a replacement.

“You’re ready, princess,” said one of the servants and you smiled at her as a thank you.

The whole time while you and your brothers awaited to arrive at the Colosseum, you ignored them. You sneaked away as soon as you arrived. Knowing the place like the palm of your hand, you took a secret passage, in hopes to go and tend your horse to delay the entertainment as long as you could.

Gladiator fights were of no interest to you. But the people loved it. Their ignorance made you understand why they hadn’t tried to throw your brothers from the thrones.

But being months away made you forgetful of the architecture of the Colosseum, forgetful enough to end up in the cells of gladiators. Looking perplexed, you gulped nervously. There were indeed many slaves brought.

Being the only woman there made you the center of attention. Even worse when you looked exactly like a princess would do.

“Princess y/n, What are you doing here?” Asked one of the high-rank soldiers, running towards you.

“I wanted to tend my horse. It was brought here by accident” you replied, eyes wandering through the cells, noticing the people inside them were full of new people, probably from Numidia. You wonder if they recognized you.

Your eyes met the ocean-blue ones of a man, he certainly recognized you as he looked at you with anger. You gulped once again, looking away from him. But his gaze had been so strong that you didn’t hear a servant come running from the end of the hallway.

“A TIGER ESCAPED! A TIGER ESCAPED! CLOSE THE DOORS!” he screamed and soon everyone went into panic mode. You didn’t have enough time to process what he said and do anything. You stood there confused for some seconds. The violent roars of the animal could be heard closer. You looked around trying to find a weapon.

“Stay behind me, princess,” said the same soldier but you didn’t trust him so you went to grab a bow and arrow. The prisoners yelled and quickly you understood they were having a private show. They hated you for being Roman, and they thought they would see you dying.

But you wouldn’t give them that satisfaction as much as you sympathized with them.

The tiger appeared, big and imposing. The animal was angry, visibly distressed, and ready to attack.

You had killed men, but an animal was different. There was no exact description of what to do. Just pure instinct. So you try to calm yourself before the tiger spots you and the soldier, who are the only ones that remain vulnerable. The guards closed the entrances as protocol, unbeknownst that you were there. And it had been too late to use the secret passage.

You felt the same man’s eyes on you and indeed, he looked carefully at you, probably wondering what would be your next move.

“PRINCESS, STAY AWAY!” The soldier screamed when the tiger came running towards you two.

The tiger jumped and threw the soldier, roaring as it tried to kill him. So you ran away in hopes of aiming at the eye of the animal to gain time. Your hands shaking and you could feel your legs get tangled up in the fabric of your dress. But your nervousness isn’t visible as your hands work on getting ready for the arrow. You don’t have time to calculate, the tiger has already bitten the soldier’s fingers.

You hit it very near the eye and the animal roared even louder, in pain. That’s when you spotted the sword the soldier had left behind, where you threw yourself to, as the tiger had tried to attack you again. The man with blue eyes pushed the sword towards you from inside the cell and you didn’t even look to thank him, you only grabbed the weapon and rolled to the right before the animal could scratch your face and kill you.

You heard the soldier cry out in pain but you couldn’t help him. Thinking you could end the beast chasing you, you failed, sinking the sword in the ribs of the animal. You felt a deep scratch in your arm and you cried out. Anger quickly builds up as you know you had to get out of there before everyone at the coliseum found out. The tiger roared one last time and before it could throw you to the sandy ground you grabbed another arrow and directly pierced the eye of the animal. Blood starts pouring and before the tiger can try to bite and break your neck, your hands end up in its mouth.

The fangs were dangerously digging into your hands and more blood started coming. Scarlet droplets fell all over your face and you didn’t care. You screamed in pain and pulled all the strength in your body to put the pressure on your arms and hands. The men inside the cells cheered and made you even more angered. Until you had torn open the tiger’s mouth, breaking its jaw and killing the animal.

Breathe….

Pushing the dead animal aside, you sighed, resting on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before taking a long breath and standing up.

Every man inside each cell looked at you quietly. What’s there to say?

Five guards open the main entrance and look confused at the mess, then at you tending the heavily injured soldier.

“Bring a doctor,” you tell them and they nod without asking more questions. Only one comes to your side.

“The games are about to begin, princess. I must escort you back to where you should be” Trying to catch your breath, you nodded.

“Do not say a word about this mess” The guard only bowed his head in agreement.

The least you could do was to put some bandages around the bloody hand of the soldier. Then you cleaned yourself and noticed you were a mess.

Giving that soon-to-be gladiator one last look, you tried to thank him with your eyes for what he had done to help you. He understood, giving you a cold nod.

And as you walked towards the royal platea, you wondered if that was the slave your brothers mentioned. A poet…

“Oh heavens! What happened to you?” Asked Lucilla as soon as you tried to take a seat beside Geta. Then everyone turned to look at you in horror. You noticed Acacius looked worried and he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the blood in your dress and bandaged arm.

“An accident” you replied politely at the woman, not in the mood to face the wife of your ex-lover.

“You look horrible,” said Caracalla.

“It won’t; happen again, frater” you tiredly answered, sinking onto the chair, ignoring Acacius’ eyes on you.

Soon you are surprised to see the gladiator who helped you in the arena. You don’t face him when he ends up winning and he looks at you. But you do notice Lucilla’s behavior and quickly you have connected the dots.

What an odd coincidence…

…

This time, you checked the animals first, then you made sure nobody had seen you entering the cells, but you went where the mysterious gladiator of blue eyes rested.

“Barbarian, monkey eater, slave, gladiator…. Prince of Rome, How may I call you? Hanno or Lucius?” Soon you had him inches away from your face. At that moment, you had time to appreciate his features. He was handsome and looked pretty much like he belonged to Roman royalty. But his gaze was fueled by anger and pain.

“What do you want?”

“I know Lucilla came before me. She had been waiting for you ever since I can remember” he looked at you with cold eyes and unbothered. But you knew he was curious about you too.

“What do you care? You’re the princess, you support all of this” his anger was palpable, it was part of his way of fighting you had noticed.

“Who did you lose?” You asked.

“My wife” he replied after a little silence, you nodded apologetically. He didn’t believe you.

“My father was a friend of your grandfather, part of the council. Now I realize that when he was elected emperor, he started hunting you down. I’m sorry”

“You don’t. You joined their cause and you fight proudly on the battlefront. I saw you…” you chuckle sarcastically.

“The twins you met the other day are my half-brothers. And they have tried to kill me since I was born. They sent me to war as punishment, but Acacius trained me well enough to survive each battle”

“So what? Should I pity you?”

“No, please don’t. But I don’t support any of this. I want to be a free woman and be with the man I love but I don’t think I’ll live enough to make it happen” he seemed interested in your words but pretended he wasn’t. Either way, you kept talking.

“You can’t kill Acacius. He’s leading a rebellion against my brothers” he stood quiet, trying to taste the lies in your words. But you seemed very truthful.

“Interesting that you want his head when all I’ve wanted is his heart” Through the cell his eyes sparkled and looked tentatively at you, for some seconds you got too attached to them.

“What about Macrino?” The old man had been trying to gain your brother’s trust and you thought that was suspicious.

“Don’t trust him. Stop sharing any detail that could tell him what you want or fear”

“I don’t trust you either”

“You shouldn’t,” you said, a little smile unconsciously appearing on your face. And to your surprise, Lucius smiled too. There was something about you that he found lovely. You seemed honest, but he couldn’t trust you yet. So he cursed once you had left, you had him looking forward to meet you again.

…

Across the room runs a large table filled with food. A variety of fruits, bread, lamb, duck, pork, and lots of wine. Your hands float around the punch though, reminding you of the first time you tried Egyptian beer. You ended up drunk with Marcus Acacius, laughing on the sand and soon both ended up naked. You frown, trying to forget that messy night.

“You’ve been oddly quiet these past days,” said Lucilla appearing by your side, grabbing more fruits and placing them on her plate.

“I’ve been busy”

“Have you met Macrino?” She said pointing in disguise at the man who laughs with some senators and your brothers.

“He’s been around for some time. But I don’t like him” you confessed.

“I’ve also met his poet gladiator” you added, opting to not look at her eyes because she responded very shocked.

“What?”

“He wants to kill Acacius for the death of his late wife, avenge his homeland, etcétera etcétera. I told him not to because we plan to free the city. You can’t proceed with the nonsense of taking him out of the Colosseum. Your son can’t be the alibi to start a revolution, Lucilla” you said whispering. She gasped in shock, wondering how you knew already. All while you carefully watched if any of your brothers or that nosy man were looking. Not even Acacius was looking.

You sigh, shrugging and looking at the woman.

“As soon as he came out wielding that sword in the arena, your face said everything. Then just by hearing his mysterious backstory. It was obvious, Lucilla” She didn’t say anything else, so you continued.

“I shall repeat myself once again. You won’t encourage Acacius to get your boy out of the Colosseum.”

“Why not?” you chuckled at the woman.

She was very pretty, sweet and caring. No wonder why the general loved her.

“You and your husband were lucky that I found out one of your maids heard everything and was about to spill it”

“What did you do, y/n?” She asked tired, thinking destiny was so meticulous and how you had ended up in such a position to hear and stop the maid before chaos unleashed.

“Let’s say I granted her eternal silence,” you said, Lucilla sighed, understanding. And before she could thank you, you spoke again.

“Wait till Lucius is in the arena to save him. And stop looping Acacius into this madness, you’ll make him get killed” She understood everything by the way your eyes looked at her. It shocked her, but she remained calm as you left to sit at the table. Only a woman in love spoke with a mix of venom and sweetness like that.

Taking a seat beside the General, he turned to look at you.

“What were you talking about there with Lucilla?” He asked in a very low but deep tone.

“Just gossiping about Senator Brutus and his new wife…” he knew you were lying but tried to act normal.

“Princess y/n… How true are those rumors about you breaking the jaw of a tiger?” asked a scribe, making you look away from Acacius, Lucilla returned to the table and your brother was already laughing at you for something you couldn’t hear.

“Well… it’s true, domine.” The table burst into laughter. Only the general and his wife remained silent.

“You did what?” Asked Acacius looking at you in horror.

“A princess shouldn’t be in combat” added Macrino, making you set your eyes on him.

“Oh I am a princess but I’m also a soldier, domine. And I have to thank my brothers because they made me a woman capable of wielding more than one weapon by sending me to war” The twins stopped laughing. Geta sipped from his wine and returned to you.

“That’s true. While you were there getting battle scars, Caracalla and I focused on diplomacy, ensuring we gained more land” You want to laugh at his face. The council did that, not the twins.

“Did you ensure the poor were stable by cutting from the rich? Did you do the math to financially cover each branch Rome rules, Geta? Or did you and Caracalla just point at lands on a map to get like prizes?”

“y/n…” Acacius whispered your name, trying to make you stop. The tension has risen very quickly.

“You have one task, soror. To give us India. A woman shouldn’t even be speaking on the table” Caracalla said when you were about to stand up and burst out. Marcus grabbed your hand under the table.

And immediately calmed you down.

“I’m only saying you should wisely rule this great empire. Do not let it fall…”

Soon the chatting turned into drinking after the awkward moment. When most of the men were getting drunk you returned to the table, cautiously grabbing food again. When you looked up, you encountered the image of Acacius kissing Lucilla. And it made your blood boil.

In a thick piece of fabric, you placed bread, some fruits, cheeses, and a small piece of lamb.

“What are you doing?” you nearly screamed when you noticed Acacius standing by your side.

“I’m grabbing food”

“Isn’t it a little late to eat again?” He wasn’t judging you, he never would, but he was very curious.

You would start up a little fire after seeing the painful image of him kissing his wife.

“It’s not for me…” before he could ask you you sprinted away. His blood boiled too, his hand firmly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“What are you playing?” He asked.

“Playing? I’m definitely not”

“Is this some kind of punishment for what I told you days ago?” You sighed.

“I didn’t mean to say it was nothing. But… you have to wait, y/n” Acacius whispered and you chuckled.

“I’ve waited long enough to realize you will always be trapped in a marriage with two different kinds of love. And Lucilla will never love you like you want because her heart will always beat for that gladiator whose name was carved from the Colosseum”

You had raised your voice, Lucilla was looking at you two, and everyone else was drunk. So you violently flinched away from the man, who looked at you with a mix of pain and rage.

You leave and he immediately sends a guard to follow you in disguise.

“We must talk,” Lucilla said to Acacius, taking his hand.

He nodded.

…

What did that man have that made you feel safe? He didn’t protest when you walked inside his cell. He didn’t demand you to go away. He quietly lets you inside, talk, and explain yourself.

Two visits filled with food from your dinners were enough to let him know you had no intention of killing him. Your curiosity must’ve been too big, his eyes too attractive, and an odd vibration that warmed your chest.

To be honest, you had no idea why you came back to him. You just felt something. And you hated to admit it.

“If the emperors have made your life so difficult, Why didn’t you leave?” Lucius asked. He had eaten everything you gave him and was sitting beside you on the dirty floor.

“Every time I tried to escape, I couldn’t make it far enough. So I stayed and accepted my fate. To serve them will keep me alive ” he nodded, finally understanding why you hadn’t revealed yourself against the evil emperors.

“You didn’t come down here just to talk”

“I didn’t. I- I guess I just want to believe you’ll do something greater than I have always tried. Everyone talks about your rage but I think you quite act like a prospect hero… with honor” you revealed and wanted to cut your thong like you did with that old maid. You hated oversharing. But instead, Lucius chuckled and you frowned confused, expecting him to talk.

“You reminded me of my wife…”

“How so?”

“She said similar things to you” Most unexpectedly, you blushed. Thankfully the darkness of the cell made it unnoticeable.

“I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here before your mother does something rushed”

“I was very harsh with her”

“How couldn’t you? I would have behaved the same way. But she loves you and she doesn’t want to let you go just when she found you” Lucius smiled once again, making you remain still, unsure of what to do next. Soon you realized the sun was very close to coming up again.

How many hours had you spent talking with the rightful Prince of Rome?

“I must go, Geta and Caracalla will know I spent the night away,” you said standing up, trying to clean the mess your dress had become.

“Will I see you again before that revolution happens?” You smiled, walking back near him.

He was tall, you had to completely raise your head to face him.

“The final day of the games is closer. I’ll bring you more food and I’ll try to see what will the next encounters look like”

“Thank you. I judged you too fast…” he said and you chuckled.

“You still have time to change your mind”

You didn’t notice when he closed the distance. Just when his face had been inches away from yours, you gasped.

But neither of you two protested, your lips touched his at the same time.

Tasting the wine you brought him made you feel intoxicated. No intrusive thoughts appeared while you kissed him.

You could only taste his passion, his need to take control. But all his hidden softness too. One of his hand caressed with softness your cheek and the other grasped your neck.

“Stay safe, Lucius,” you said as you moved away from him.

…

The whole day was lost because you spent it sleeping. Only when you woke up for dinner, did you learn you had missed the games of the day. But Lucius was alive at least. You dreamt of his kiss but when you woke up you had an odd sensation in your stomach. Confusion filled you and then… ache.

As you brushed your hair, you got lost looking at a red candle. It had been a present from your father some years ago. A red candle to be lit whenever you felt like you needed to feel love, he had said.

The wise emperor had wished to see his daughter with her true love. Just like had always wanted but couldn’t.

There was a broad shadow that you spotted through the mirror. It made you pull out a silver knife and point a the figure.

Soon the cape was removed and you sighed but also gasped shocked to see Acacius standing in the middle of your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked worriedly, standing up and hurrying to close your windows.

“You had spent all these past nights in the Colosseum,” he said, sounding a little angered.

“Now you’re spying on me, Acacius?” He sighed exasperated.

“What are you doing with that gladiator?”

“What do you care?” You asked with defiance.

“He’s going to get you in trouble, princess y/n” Your eyes pierced his, but you decided to move away, leaning against the towers of your bed.

“He deserves more. And not only him, but every slave we brought and all those we left in ruins” you admitted, looking at the fire of the candle.

“They do, but it’s not our duty, at least not yet. We need to focus on the plan we have…” you wanted to roll your eyes and yell at him, his wife could’ve ruined everything and he was only paying attention to you.

Only paying attention to you?

“Stop going to see that man”

“His name is Hanno and I’ll visit whenever I desire” you spit out with bitterness and you knew he was angry. Acacius clenched his jaw and sighed once again. Under his cape rested his armor, his hair messy, and his scars fading.

“Why? Because he makes you feel things?”

You remained quiet. As simple as it was, his question took you by surprise.

“I-… I don’t know. I had no reason to go back to him, but I did it anyway”

“Oh heavens, y/n. Don’t you see that I’ve always told you to wait? Because I’m counting every golden coin I have to give you that house on the island you always point at. To leave Rome with you…”

It took you on a curve. You didn’t know what to say, only the tears wanted to be present.

His hands found your hips and his lips seek yours. Sometimes, while being overseas, you two would argue. And the only cure was to be silent and kiss after a day of ignoring each other.

This time feels different. You feel so confused.

His forehead softly bumped yours and you two stayed like that for some time.

“If you had those ideas to fulfill with me. Why do you remain married, Marcus?” He smiled.

“That’s different, satis. I was set to marry when you were very young. I just can’t undo it.”

“Why do I feel like you’re only doing this because you feel pressured?”

“It’s not like that”

“Either way you wouldn’t tell me that you love me. So it’s in vane…”

“BUT I DO LOVE YOU!”

You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. For a moment you thought you could only hear how your heartbeats slowly thumped. What you wanted to hear for years had been delivered. It felt good, even right to hear it. And when you were about to believe it, something clicked.

“No, Marcus. You just realized you hate the idea of me falling in love with someone else. Even worse when it’s the son of your wife”

Without the strength to say anything else, you moved away. Your feet quickly dragged you out of your room, and then out of the palace.

You walked through the streets of Rome, seeing all the hunger, poverty, the lack of love from the government.

By midnight you arrived at the shore. The warm sand cured your bolting mind.

There was an imminent battle coming up. You had a place in the rebellion. And yet you had to be only thinking in two men. Who had made a mess of you in a matter of days.

You had nothing with any of them. It was just the causality of what they made you feel.

Lucius made you feel like the woman you would’ve been if you had escaped Rome years ago.

Acacius made you feel adored like the woman you turned into wasn’t as bad as you thought. He believed in you.

But it wasn’t enough. None of them were enough. Your mind was spiraling and you realized you were sobbing in the middle of the dark. You can hear and faintly distinguish the sea. You had cracked, like the fallen fruit every poet and philosopher always mentioned.

And even when you knew you had to only focus on the war, you still didn’t know what to do. You barely knew the men that had you losing it.

_________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @willowpains @nicolebarnes

I don’t love the ending but I genuinely don’t know who should reader end up with. PLEASE SEND IDEAS!!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator x reader #lucius verus x reader #lucius verus #paul mescal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius

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banditcoyote · 2 days ago

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"It's yours. They're all yours, for the rest of our lives." he promised her with the upmost sincerity, and leaned down to whisper his love for her in thief speak. He kissed her, and tried not to deepen it, Mercutio would kill him if he smudged the perfect little heart on her lips. "Am I circling back for you?" Raphael asked him as they traded off. Coyote gave a shake of his head. "No, I might go for a little run, why don't I meet you back at Echo's stable? I can help with the horses." He said thinking something familiar might help him back into relaxing after leaving Sasuga's side. "Sure thing Cowboy." Raphael said with a laugh and led Sasuga down the stairs, helping her up into the coach as if she were royalty. "We'll be there in just a few minutes. Then you're free reign prime kotei." he said with a chuckle before shutting the door and climbing back up to his seat, cracking his riding whip and getting the horses going again. The ride didn't take very long at all with no other cars or carriages on the way this time, and when they pulled up in front of the Chateau it seemed a little quiet there too, but she supposed she had never been out at night nearly alone like this. Raphael hopped down and opened the door for her. "Don't make it obvious I told you...." he said in a very soft whisper. "But your majesty is up on one of the towers. He's feeling very predatory tonight." he said helping her out, and if Sasuga were to look up she could make out the looming figure of Echo's shadow along the curve of one of the towers, looking more like a dragon than a bat in his pose, his long hair falling in a braid almost giving the illusion of a tail.

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

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bananayuyu · 2 days ago

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all tied up {part 2}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 11.9k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts

A/n: I hope you all enjoy the depravity! (and again please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 1 here

Read it on ao3

That toe box. That stupid fucking toe box…

"YUNHO, LET ME GO!!" you scream, punching a hand into his side and making him sag ever so slightly.

"Fucking hell, give me a second," he replies, finally slinging you back over his shoulder to your feet.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" you scream, shoving him as hard as you can, and he rocks back onto his other foot, destabilized only for a second.

"Calm down, Jesus Christ," he snaps, and you move to dart around him, towards the front door you were just dragged through. He's too quick though and grabs you by the arm, your shoulder crashing into the wall as he awkwardly halts your movements. "Y/n, seriously, calm the fuck down." His tone is harsh, low and demanding, and the turn of events has so shocked you, you feel like you might puke.

"You just kidnapped me, and you're telling me to calm down??" you spit, your shoulder stinging from the impact of the wall.

"I saved you from that horrible weather, actually. Not safe for a girl like you to be out there right now," he replies, a chilling smirk on his lips.

"Oh fuck off, you fucking creep," you mutter, desperately trying to free your arm from his grasp.

"Listen I know it's a bit extreme, but you kept ignoring me, and I want to talk. So I did what I had to do, to make that happen," he replies, his voice uncomfortably smooth.

"Yunji is right, you're a fucking sociopath," you respond, eyeing him sharply.

"Yunji?" he asks, his eyebrows cocked.

"Yunji, my best friend, my roommate, who will be very concerned if I don't return home soon. So you'd better fucking let me go, if you don't want the police called," you say, words fiery and sharp as they exit your mouth.

"Why don't you text her and let you know you got caught in the storm, and a kind neighbor let you into their place for protection," he smiles, shaking his head at you like you're dumb.

"Fuck you, fuck offf," you mutter as you knee him hard in the side, managing to pull your arm free for a moment and stumbling towards his front door once again. But again somehow he's faster than you, despite the wind being slightly knocked out of him, and he puts himself between you and the door with a loud slam, your body smashing into his, hard. His right hand moves behind him to slide closed the deadbolt, his broad frame guarding the door, creating a barrier you certainly won't be able to break through.

"You're making this very difficult, y/n," he scolds, shaking his head again.

"ME?? I'M MAKING THIS DIFFICULT??" you scream, falling to the floor in desperation, your mind running out of ideas. The only one that's left is his backdoor, which you know is likely to be locked; but you realize it's truly your last hope, your only remaining option. With a sharp inhale you steady yourself, launching down a hallway you see that leads in that general direction, turning the corner abruptly when you hit a wall, seeing another hallway branching off with more doors leading to other rooms. You continue down this hallway too, even though it's running towards the side of the house, because you really don't have another choice and have no idea where any of these doors might lead you. You're running hard, as hard as you can, bumping into walls and nearly stumbling over a slight blip in the old hardwood floor, catching yourself in time to keep running. You round another corner into what looks like a den, and then you spot it, sliding glass doors that lead to his backyard. You're almost there, your legs only propelled by your adrenaline, and you know he's hot on your trail, his hard footsteps echoing ominously behind you. Sliding the door will open will be awkward, you know that, but you have to try-

You're grabbed again, this time tackled to the ground, a hand coming around your ankle and holding it tight as you flail your other leg, making contact with some part of Yunho's body. Your huge winter coat is making it hard to move around on the floor, your body limited by the layers of clothing and the crumpled position you're currently pinned in.

"Yunho, please, just fucking let me go," you beg, your throat hoarse from your screaming earlier, your lungs lacking capacity from your running. "I promise, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise, just please, let me go, please, please." You sound so pathetic, so scared, because you are. You've never felt like this, scared for your life and unsure you'll make it through the rest of the day alive.

"Don't make promises you can't fucking keep," Yunho grumbles, moving on top of you to pin you even tighter, both of your legs awkwardly bent under his and your upper body held down by his arms. His face is only inches from yours now, closer than it's ever been, and you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see what you know is a horrifying look in his eyes.

"No I'm serious, I will talk to you, I promise, I-"

"No you won't. I know you fucking won't," he spits, adjusting his grip on your arms as if he's trying to remind you how trapped you are. "You'd make your mind up, hadn't you? You'd decided you'd much rather we both lose our jobs than you having to speak to me again. You were gonna give up. You weren't going to talk to me tomorrow, or the next day, or ever. If I let you go now, that wouldn't fucking change. Don't lie to me, y/n. I'm not stupid."

Your snarky reply gets lost in your throat, because the way he's read you so easily is utterly disturbing.

"What, are you shocked that I'm right? You're not that hard to read, doll," he continues, chuckling deeply. But I am, to everyone else, you think. You've always been able to hide your intentions easily. Your side is starting to throb, his elbow digging into your ribs, and his words have lit another fire in you, one that comes from the visceral fear that's consuming you.

You snap your head up and bite hard on his shoulder, the only part of him other than his face that you can reach. You're more forceful than even you expect, immediately tasting blood, and it makes you bite even harder, Yunho letting out a sudden cry of pain.

"Fuck, you fucking bi-"

You cut him off with a knee to the groin, the pain from your bite having loosened his nerve enough for you to do so. It weakens him even more, and you're able to move your hips out from under him, painfully wrenching yourself free from his grasp and doing anything you can to inflict pain on his perfect body. You can feel it now that he's on top of you, the curves and lines and hints of lean muscle, and it pisses you off all over again. You're clawing at him, scratching and biting and kicking every which way. His breath is knocked out of him so you both are just breathing heavily, his body grunting with every painful blow, your own voice erupting in a growl when you finally free yourself from him and manage to miraculously make it to your feet.

You're running back the way you came now, back towards the front door which you know how to unlock, a cramp forming sharp in your side from the exertion. You hear his footsteps behind you again, and you know it's a last-ditch effort, but you try with all your might to run as fast as you possibly can. Suddenly you feel your left arm tugged back, your body jolting awkwardly as he makes contact with you, but he's only able to get a good hold on the sleeve of your coat, which now is painfully snaking down your arm and falling off your shoulder. You wrench your arm free from it, spinning to free your other arm too, feeling unburdened now without your coat and able to sprint fast again. As you round the corner you see the front door, the dark stained wood ominous, a warning against entering. Or leaving, you suppose. The whole house is dark, little light coming in from the windows because of the now raging storm, and for the first moment since you've entered Yunho's house you notice a bright flash that must be lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. You know it should be louder, it sounded mere moments after the flash meaning the strike was somewhere nearby, but the snow is just that thick right now, even the deafening sound got lost in it. You wonder if you'll even be able to open the door against the winds and what must be harsh rain, and tears start coming fast down your cheeks as your fears reach new heights. Even if you make it out of here you've got the elements to deal with, and suddenly storming out that door doesn't sound so good. For a brief moment it's almost like you're begging for it, begging for him to grab you again so you don't have to face the reality outside.

Even if it'd only been a passing thought, Yunho answers your sadistic prayer, finally making contact with you again when you're only five feet from the door, his hand crushing as it grips down on your upper arm. You shriek, your shoulder screaming so severely in pain you're worried he's dislocated it. You both awkwardly crash towards the ground again, Yunho coming to his knees as he tries to prevent the fall, your legs sweeping out from under you as you lose your balance. You're still fighting fiercely, and you feel ridiculous for wishing for this now. You'd give anything to be in that fierce, terrifying storm right now, instead of being dragged by your arm and your hair down his hallway, making dents in the walls with your feet as you struggle against his firm grip.

"You're making this really fucking difficult, y/n," he growls, breathing hard from carrying the weight of an entire human down his short hallway. "I don't think you realize how true that is." You're still screaming in pain, tears streaming down your face in waves now as the follicles of your hair are nearly ripped out. "We could have done this another way, but you just had to fucking fight me, as always. I should have known you'd pull some shit like this," he spits, his voice low. You have no idea where you're going, your vision clouded with your tears. Eventually you year a door knob turned, Yunho yanking you hard and turning you around, your legs catching painfully underneath you.

"Ah!" you scream in pain, using your free hand to wipe the tears and snot from your face and finally try to get a good look around you.

"Shut up, this is your fault," he responds, his tone cold in that way that it so often is. It feels so weird to be with him outside of work, the feeling hitting you suddenly as you're finally able to get a glimpse of him; turning your head you see a desk, a dresser, a closet door...

You can only see a glimpse of his bed when you turn to the side, but it's enough to confirm you're in his bedroom. It adds to the fear in you, that you're both in the place he feels most comfortable, that he's confident enough to show you his place of rest. Is he going to kill you? You really wouldn't have pegged him as the type, even if he was an asshole at work; your jokes with Yunji about him being sociopathic were hyperbole, at the time, at least.

"Are you going to kill me?" you ask, finding a strength within yourself that surprises you.

"No," he grunts, his body pinning you down as he reaches under his bed, the position twisting his torso and making his breathing uneven.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" you ask, trying to even out your breathing yourself. Your lungs feel exhausted from screaming, but at least now he isn't dragging you by your hair, so your scalp is getting a break from the severe pain. He doesn't answer you, shoving his arm further under, and then in a flash you see what he's pulled out, in moments feeling it against the skin of your left wrist.

The black rope is even and soft, clearly made for use in the bedroom. It would make you laugh, cause you to poke fun at him, normally, but in this instance your blood runs cold as you feel him forcefully anchor the wrist in place, tying it to something behind you in a way that makes it totally immovable. You struggle against him as he reaches for your other arm, but with the way he has you pinned there's only one outcome to this, and soon your other wrist is being tied down too, right next to your first one. You're well and truly trapped now, not able to move your arms at all, and with them tied behind your back it's hard to move the rest of your upper body.

With another grunt Yunho finishes securing his knots, your arms tied to one of his bed posts, your legs awkwardly folded under you. You look so pathetic and vulnerable in this state, and it makes him feel things he knows he shouldn’t, something that makes his pants feel tighter than they should. Your whole face is a mess from crying, your hair disheveled and tangly; he's never seen you in such a state, so messed up and powerless and ragged.

"Well, here we are," he says, standing up and walking back to the entrance of his room, putting several feet between you as he stares you down, arms crossed.

"What do you want?" you snap, frustrated and disgusted that you can't wipe the small trail of snot that's currently leaving your nose.

"I just want to talk, y/n. I'm not planning on killing you, I'm not that kind of person. I can't believe you'd even ask that," he responds, looking at you sternly.

"YOU FUCKING TIED ME UP, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK?!!" you scream, your body lurching forward with the force of your words. The binding on your wrists squeezes painfully when you do so, and your face scrunches up in agony for a moment, as you set yourself back in place in a slightly more comfortable position.

"May I remind you again, this is all your own fault. You wouldn't talk to me, and like I said, I'm not giving up on this job easily. So tell me, why do you hate me so much?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes and crossing one foot in front of the other in a casual, confident stance.

"Cause you're an asshole??" you say, narrowing your eyes back at him, cocking your head to the side.

"And you're not?" he asks, smirking.

"You know I'm not," you growl, eyebrows furrowed together deeply. "You fucking know I'm not, I'm a fucking angel, actually, and everyone in that damn office loves me, and I never start shit with anyone. You know damn well that you started this, you did, you like messing with me and seeing me suffer, it must be entertaining to you cause your life is so fucking stuffy and perfect and boring. I mean those fucking suits you wear, to our simple little government-funded office. Where do you get off dressing like that??"

"I could ask you the same thing," he quips, raising his eyebrows momentarily. You eye him sharply, the question in your gaze obvious. "Your clothes, y/n, I can't believe Mr. Kangsoo lets you wear skirts that short in the office. Or tight shirts with no bra."

"He's probably never even thought about it, because he's never sexualized me like a fucking creep," you respond, face flushed from the idea that Yunho was looking at you like that for all of these months. It's mortifying, horrifying, and makes you feel suddenly so sick in your body, like you wish you could jump out of it. But you also can't deny that you've looked at him that way too, that the suits do it for you in a way that's almost embarrassing.

"I'm not a creep, I've just never had a boss who allows that," he says, sighing. "I can't deny that it's distracting." The words shutter through you, adding to the sick feeling growing in your low gut. It makes tears form in your eyes again too, from how humiliated you feel by his admission, that every day in the office when he was tormenting you, he was also gawking over your body in this way.

"You're so fucking gross," you mutter, looking at the ground in front of you, adjusting yourself again as your legs begin to ache from the position you're sitting in.

"What else do you think of me?" he prompts, loving to watch you squirm around in clear discomfort on the floor.

"I'm- this is so fucking disturbing Yunho, you're- I'm gonna-" you stop yourself from saying 'report this to the police,' because that visceral fear that he might kill you is still there. Even if he isn't planning on doing it, you don't want to say or do anything that might motivate him to, so you let the words die on your tongue, awkwardly huffing out the breath you'd just taken. Your gaze jumps around, but finds his face again fast, your mind working hard to try to understand what the hell is happening. Does he really just want to talk? Everything he's done seems too severe to be justified by just that, but you've found him hard to read since you met him. As you gaze at his face you see a smile on his lips, a smile that's revealed a small dimple on his left cheek and almost looks sweet. "Why the hell are you smiling?" you snap, your look severe and threatening.

"I'm just glad we're finally talking," he sighs, crossing his feet in the opposite direction. You just fix with him with a look of disgust, not wanting to speak anymore if that's truly what's bringing him joy in this moment. He knows saying that will shut you up for a bit, but he's okay with that, having things of his own that he needs to get off his chest. Now that the two of you are finally alone, away from the office, he can say the things that he's wondered for months.

"Y/n, can I ask you a question?" he starts, but he doesn't wait for an answer before barreling on. "Did you get into our field because you yourself deal with mental health issues, or have some big trauma from your past? I only ask, because, well, everyone at my last office fit that description, and I'm pretty sure everyone at our's does too, even Jongho. Everyone had to go to therapy as a kid, or in college cause of severe anxiety, and that's what led them to wanting to work in this field. Am I right, that that's true for you too?"

Your eyes remain fixed on him but you don't move your head for a second, not nodding or shaking it in an answer. The glassiness that forms in your eyes, though, is impossible to cover up, and Yunho can see from the tears starting to form that he's entirely, absolutely correct.

"You're very neurotic, do you know that?" he continues, and his question almost sounds genuine. "I mean, me hiding your favorite mug has you angry enough to slam the dishwasher closed? That mug isn't even yours, it's a part of the set that Dr. Acharya got the office two years ago as a Christmas present, meaning it belongs to everyone at the office. At least, that's what you told me my first day. Sure, everyone has their favorite mugs, but no one is as obsessively possessive about it as you are. The littlest things set you off, stuff that shouldn't even affect you. What does it matter that I hid the mug? Who the fuck cares what mug you use? You dropped Jongho's favorite mug two months ago and it smashed everywhere, and he didn't freak out about it. He just started using a different one. Did you even know that was his favorite one? No, because he didn't insist on using it every day. Do you realize how ridiculous all of your little routines and patterns are? It's like if everything doesn't go exactly how you want it to, you'll die."

"No, that's you," you sob, his words pulling emotions out of you that you can't even describe. He's the rich spoiled boy, he's the one who's never been told no in his life. He's the one who can't take disturbance to his needs, not you, not you, not me...

Your gut roils at his insult, and you realize in an instant that he's absolutely right, and that probably everyone at the office has thought that about you for years, but tolerated it anyway. Tears flow down your cheeks fast, and god you wish you could somehow wriggle your arms free, and punch that pretty face of his to make him shut up.

"That's not me, actually. I do just fine dealing with whatever comes up at the office each day. I can even handle our arguments just fine, and don’t walk around with a scowl on my face all day. You know everyone is fucking scared to talk to you when you do that, right?"

"Shut up, shut up!!" you scream, the pain in your head growing the more you think about all your failings, all the ways you've fucked up in the last six months. That awful feeling of shame you were so scared to face earlier is hitting you now, and just like you thought, the pain is so bad that you don't think you're going to come out the other side of it alive.

"Don't tell me to shut up just cause I'm right, y/n. Fucking listen and take accountability for once," he snaps, his face more like anger now that you're yelling at him again, instead of just talking. "I don't think you understand how easy it's been for me to read you, since the moment I started at that job. Am I wrong for liking it when something I do pisses you off? Maybe, I can't help that it's fun. I could see this whole conflict unfolding from the first day you turned cold with me, and I knew that there wasn't a fucking thing I could do to stop that. So I thought I'd just let it happen, and try my best to enjoy the ride. I can't change the fact that you're so caught up in your own head that you ca-"

"AAHHHHHHHH!!!!" you scream, just to drown out the noise, just to make the pain in your head stop. The scream is guttural, loud and painful as it exits your throat, but you keep screaming until your lungs are empty because the relief it's providing you is at least something. When you run out of air you take another ragged breath in and then you scream again, this time the sound harsher, your throat struggling to handle it. Tears are forming and streaming down your face faster than they ever have, and your body jerks against the ropes on your wrists, as you try to muster all your strength and somehow finally break free. Unable to do so, you scream again, eyes closed as you heave from the pain, your skin no doubt damaged from rope burn.

"Y/n, y/n, calm down," you hear, Yunho's voice soft and close to you. A hand comes to brush the tears from your cheek, but you jerk away violently, your wrists snagging painfully on the rope at a different angle this time.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" you cry, but it comes out softer than intended because your throat is already so worn, and you cough hard on your next inhale.

"Y/n, seriously, take a deep breath, stop," Yunho says, backing up slightly and not touching you again, but still sitting himself close enough to you that you can feel his presence, feel the warmth radiating off his body. The shock of it makes you realize just how cold you are, only a thin long sleeve shirt on now that your coat has been discarded somewhere in the hall.

"SHUT UP, GET THE FUCK AWAY!!" you cry again, wincing hard from the pain in our throat, your breaths ragged as you try to recover from the pain and ready yourself to scream again.

"Y/n..." he warns, but you just scream again, so entirely afraid of the feelings inside that you can't think to do anything else. "I SAID, STOP!" he finally yells, and the force of it is so strong that it nearly knocks you back, all the breath in your lungs leaving immediately.

You stare at him wide eyed, seeing now that he's crouched down on the floor, about five feet from you. The fear is evident in your gaze, and so is the fact that you're holding your breath and you have absolutely no idea.

"You should breathe, you know," he says, his voice suddenly back to the neutral tone of earlier. You snap back into your body for a moment, shakily taking in the breath your lungs were crying for, and you notice you're shaking, aches and pains searing through almost every part of you. "You don't know what's good for you, do you?" he continues, coming to sit cross legged in front of you, his arms resting on his legs and his hands clasped together. You wriggle in front of him, wincing as you try to move your aching leg to a more comfortable position. You struggle to find it, getting stuck in a spot that's even worse, and you sigh in frustration. "Just sit cross-legged, it'll be more comfortable," he sighs, moving forward towards you, with his hands outstretched. You lurch away from his touch again, and he sits back down, sighing harder. "I was going to help you change your sitting position, cause I know it's hard to do with your arms bound," he says, and you don't have time to wonder why he knows that. You stare back with a hardened gaze, eyes piercing daggers into him. "Will you let me help you?" he asks, and it's the first time all conversation that his tone has changed in that way; it's softer, warmer, and for a moment makes your chest flutter. You don't answer him again, you just stare and stare and try to make sense of his words, but somehow he can tell you won't fight him now, and he moves forward to help you, holding your body up just enough so you can swing your legs under you in this different way.

Once you're sitting you do feel relief, your knees thanking you now that they aren't bearing the majority of your weight, your ankles thankful that they're resting at a much more natural angle.

"You need to stop fighting me, and fighting those ropes, or you're just gonna keep hurting yourself," he says, voice calm.

"I didn't fucking agree to this!" you snap, your changing feelings giving you whiplash. "You've tied me up against my will, Yunho, or did you somehow forget? This isn't some cute little scene I agreed to, you forced this on me!" you yell, trying hard to be forceful without hurting your throat again.

"And it's going to be good for you in the long run, if you'd just relax and stop fighting me. Have you considered that maybe I know what's best?" He quirks a brow, eyeing you now from only two feet away, that heat still radiating off of him. Noticing it again you begin to shiver, your body shaking involuntarily. Your muscles feel tight and painful from the restriction, and the cold isn't helping one bit.

"How the fuck is tying me up against my will good for me?" you spit, leaning forward every so slightly now that you can.

"I know you don't want to lose that job," he says, eyeing you intensely, his gaze boring into you. "I know that job means everything to you. And I know that if I didn't intervene, you would have lost it. You were too scared to come talk to me. You were never going to admit to your part in our arguments, to your fault. You clearly have too much pride to admit any wrongdoing, almost ever."

It really is sick how right he is about everything, and you begin to wonder if he somehow can read minds.

"Listen, I will let you go later, you have my word. I'm not gonna kill you. But I'm pretty sure this is the only way I could ever get you to apologize to me, and without doing that, we would never be able to resolve this." His eyes still haven't left yours, and this close you can see the details of his iris, the stubble on his cheeks and chin, and the small birth mark on the side of his jaw. It makes you sick, he makes you sick, every little perfect thing about him.

"Look, I'll start. I'm sorry for hiding your mug, I'm sorry for leaving you little notes, which were really just jokes but I know you took them offensively, I'm sorry for being hard on you in the admin meetings. I'm sorry for pissing you off and finding it funny. None of that was cool."

"That wasn't a very good apology," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"Still better than no apology at all," he replies, and you can't help but roll them again. "Did you hear what I said earlier, when you were screaming?" he asks, and you shake your head. "I was saying, I think you were so caught up in your head and convinced that I was out to get you, that you didn't realize in all those little notes I was trying to let you know that I like you."

"You have a funny way of showing it," you say, huffing in anger.

"Was it not obvious?" he asks.

"Was what not obvious?"

"That I like you."

"You insulted me in every single one!"

"I called you pretty in every single one."

"Yeah, in an insulting, 'you're pretty and stupid and don't know shit' kind of way."

"I never meant it like that. That was your interpr-"

"Sure." You roll your eyes hard again, sighing in exasperation.

"Don't interrupt me," he retorts, eyes hard.

"I'll do what I fucking want," you reply, exhausted by the conversation now, losing control of yourself.

"I think you're forgetting how vulnerable you are right now," he responds, scooting forward enough so that he can reach behind you and tug on the ropes, both checking that they're still secured and reminding you just how trapped you are.

I don't care anymore, you think, dropping your head, and it almost feels like your body has given in now. It's not that the fight is gone, but something about the change in position has your body relaxed, now that no part of you is actively getting hurt by your sitting position.

"What was that?" Yunho asks, his voice soft.

"Huh?" you snap your head up, eye him with confusion.

"Did you just say you don't care anymore?" Your eyes go slightly wide, realizing you'd said that aloud and not just in your head to yourself. You nod in response, eyes stuck on him, on the black hair that's fallen in his face, on the way his hand frantically pushes it away. "What do you mean?"

"I don't care, hurt me, do whatever, I don't care," you say, body relaxing in defeat.

"No, no we're not doing that," he says, and you squint at him in frustration. "You always just give up when things are hard, or when you think you'll fail. It's fucking pathetic."

Tears are back in your eyes, and you look at the floor in front of you, the small expanse of wood separating the two of you.

"I know, I FUCKING KNOW I'M PATHETIC, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!" you scream, frustration boiling up again.

"Yes, it is," he says with a satisfied smile.

"You want me to just tear myself down in front of you, is that it??"

"Finally you're understanding," he sighs, looking you over with what almost could be pride.

"Fuck you," you mutter, trying to bring yourself down from yet another surge in adrenaline.

"Fucking apologize. Tell me what you did wrong. I'm tired of waiting," he snaps, and the words feel like they lance through you. It makes you notice your body again, notice the way you're shaking hard from the cold.

"I'm fucking freezing Yunho," you say, tone begging him to take mercy on you.

"I know, I can see you shivering. Apologize to me and I'll get you a blanket," he spits.

"No," you whine, your body pleading with you, desperately wanting relief from the cold.

"Your nipples are so hard I can see them through your shirt." He's smirking, staring unabashedly at your chest, and it makes you scream again, writhing around with that unbridled anger, making your body hurt again.

"Y/n, y/n, fucking hell," Yunho lurches forward to grab onto you, physically forcing you to stop moving, stop hurting yourself even more. His arms are wrapped around you, your head pulled into his chest, and you can smell him now, the faint musk coming from under his arms, the slight sour edge making your head feel funny.

"You lied to boss," you rasp out, voice muffled against his chest.

"What?" he asks, settling down to now hold you in place.

"You said you weren't attracted to me. In the meeting." He just grunts in response, so ambiguously that you can't tell if he's agreeing or not. "Is that not what you meant by, 'I like you'?

"It is," he replies, sighing.

"Then why did you lie?" you ask, surprised he would do that in front of your boss, even given the nature of the question.

"Cause you did first," he responds, matter of factly.

"I didn't lie," you mutter, holding your eyes closed, your head still feeling funny as you try to shake free whatever feelings are enveloping you.

"You either lied to him, or to yourself," he says, finally pulling back, seeming to trust that you won't flail around again. But the slightest muscle twitch of your arm has his grip back on you in seconds, and you just sit there staring up at him, his hands gripping your arms tight to keep you from pulling on the ropes. "Which was it?"

"Stop," you whisper, harshly, your spit spraying in his face. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, eyeing you harshly, something clicking into place behind his eyes.

"You're really gonna make me fucking do this, aren't you," he grumbles, almost like it's just to himself. He shakes his head, sighing sharply, and you eye him with worry. He looks half disappointed, but half amused, and once he picks his hand up and flicks your already-hard nipple, the look becomes pure amusement just from your reaction.

"Ahh," you involuntarily moan, mortified at the sounds that just left your lips.

"You're sensitive," he chuckles, pinching the other harshly, making your whole body jolt in reaction.

"Yunho, stop, please, please," you beg, the pathetic, pleading look in your eye making his whole body react.

"If you'd just do what I ask, you could avoid these things," he chuckles, roughly pinching both of them now. Your back arches, and you fight to keep your breathing steady and not make any more embarrassing noises. But the pain and pleasure he's causing you is making it hard, and small gasps and whines leave your throat. "I think some part of you wanted this, though," he chuckles.

When he pulls back he's eyeing your arms, and the look of resolve and certainty in his eyes has you panicking, your brain struggling to make sense of it in any way.

"Please Yunho, please no," you whine again.

"Doll, you've left me no choice," he responds, sighing deeply as if he's thinking hard, not bothering to look you in the eye. Suddenly he's down to the side of you, and you feel his hands working fast behind you, the ropes pushed and pulled in various directions, making the sore skin of your wrists ache with every change of pressure. You're out of words now, utterly confused and helpless, and you lack the ability to fight him anymore, your body succumbing to exhaustion and not wanting to be bruised any further.

Suddenly you feel one of your wrists is free, the muscles in your shoulder relieved at finally being able to move, your body shuttering as it tries to work out the knots that have formed. You're partially free now, you realize for a moment, but just as fast you feel a final tug that loosens your other wrist from the bedpost, and then Yunho is yanking your wrists around to tie them in front of you instead. In a flash he's lifted you up, setting you down on the side of his bed, on your side. You're facing him, where he's now sat on the floor, as he grabs your legs and bends them up towards your arms, beginning to secure all of your limbs together in multiple knots. You lay in an almost catatonic state, staring at the wall of his room, the closet door partially cracked. You can see some of the suits and a few other random jackets you don't think you've ever seen before. You're so zoned out on the wall, so out of your body and out of your mind, that you don't even notice your pants and panties being pulled down to your thighs. It isn't until you feel the skin to skin contact, Yunho's hand gripping your thigh where it meets your hips, that you notice.

"What the fuck!" you squeal, head snapping back to him again, and the look on his face is cocky and self-satisfied, like he's proud of the reaction he's just pulled out of you.

"Yunho, please, no no no, please," you start babbling, repeating the words over and over until they feel almost meaningless. You can tell exactly where his hands are headed, where this whole thing is headed, but you don't have the physical strength in you to fight anymore. Or, more accurately, fighting with your body seems like the worst thing you can do right now, something that will only hurt you more and probably rile him up, too. He can see the gears turning in your head, and he's pressing, waiting for you to break, because it didn't take him long today to realize that he has a better read on you than you've ever had on yourself. You continue to babble your displeasure as he moves his hand up higher, higher, just brushing past your core and making you wince, but he doesn't reply to your words with words of his own, because he knows now that there's no point. He moves his hand up to your ass slowly, a trail of your wetness following his fingers, and even he's shocked by how much was there between your legs. He's sure you have no idea, that you're totally oblivious to the way your body has reacted to his words, his actions, to being bound and unable to move.

He's sure that for months now you had no idea that so much of the frustration you felt while being around him was the frustration of being teased, your body wanting certain touches that he was never giving you. He was certain you weren't taking care of it enough yourself, because he saw your thighs clench all the time when you stared at him, and sometimes he could even swear he smelled the arousal pooling in your panties, your short skirts leaving too little of a barrier.

Now, finally he was touching you, and it didn't surprise him that that soft wet part between your legs had reacted so quickly. It also wasn't a shock that your brain still hadn't caught up, that you still didn't see what was so obvious to him. He knew it would take more than a gentle brush of your clit for you to finally realize it, so moving his hand back down towards your center, he quickly found your entrance, firmly brushing the pad of his middle finger up your slit until he rubbed right over your sensitive bud again.

"Fuck! Okay, fuck, stop it, I'll apologize," you cry, the soft pad of his finger sending sparks through you as soon as it made contact with your clit. The feeling made your body shake again, but suddenly a warmth was filling your lower gut and you couldn't be more shocked by the feeling, and by how inviting, even comforting, it felt. It was another moment where you were ricocheted back into your body, into the present moment, and the strange nature of everything that was happening was too much to make sense of. All you knew is you needed your confusion to stop, because now more than any other feeling it was your inner conflict that scared you, the fact that you had earlier wished for him to grab you, the fact that now your body seemed so content to just stay in these ropes forever, as long as your position was comfortable enough.

All you could think to do now was to give him what he wanted, and what that was exactly you couldn't remember, other than that he wanted you to say something.

"I'm-I'm sorry, okay, I'm really sorry, I don't know how everything got as fucked up as- as it got, oh god, I'm sorry- I- I promise you I mean it," you babble, eyes closed as you try to control your breathing enough to speak.

"What are you sorry for?" he asks you, his face close enough that you feel his hot breath, his voice gentle but steady.

"I'm- I- I don't know, I- I-" You're distracted by his hand, but the way it's steadily making small circles over your clit and sending more of that heat into you, your mind less and less able to focus on your attempt at an apology.

"You don't know?" he asks, and it's patronizing, you both know it, but it doesn't even hurt you now. You just nod, sniffling as you whisper 'I'm sorry,' your eyes getting wet and heavy with how overwhelmed you feel. "You can't think straight now, can you?" he asks you, his finger working you steadily, his nose picking up on that scent he's become so familiar with. You shake your head, your breathing picking up gently from the pleasure enveloping you like a warm blanket. "Good, you think too much anyway," he chuckles, watching your face intently, his pride surging at the way he's picking you apart so perfectly.

"I think I know why you're sorry," he says, making you whine in response, nervous for what he's about to say. "I'm gonna guess, I think I'm right," he smiles, but you don't even see it with your eyes glued shut. He's happy though, seeing you like that, because he knows that finally you're in your body completely, and you're accepting what he's known you need. "You're sorry cause you know you fucked up, don't you? You know you took things too personally, you overreacted, you couldn't let my jokes or my pranks just be that, you had to make it more. And once you reacted that way once, you felt entitled to react that way every time, didn't you? You're sorry that you didn't stop that snowball in its tracks, before it became this huge thing, right?"

You groan in response to him, pissed as can be, but you can't tell him he's wrong because you're physically incapable now of lying. Something in the way he's making you feel, the way he's touching you, has melted a layer of your mental shield away, and you see now every word he's said is reflected inside you. The thoughts had been there for months, but you'd managed to avoid them almost completely, the occasional blip causing guilt and worry to cloud you for a day or two. But this was the first time you saw it truly for all that it was, how deep the guilt cut into you, how you spoke about him so nastily to other people because you really wanted to say those things to yourself.

"You'd never be able to forgive yourself if you admitted those things, huh?" he continues, making your breath hitch. "You don't want to admit them because you're scared you'll never feel the same about yourself ever again, right? Cause you're this perfect little angel, and you've been that for so many years, the perfect baby of the office, the perfect student in school, I'm sure, and admitting to yourself that you can be cruel, that would ruin the entire image you've created for yourself, wouldn't it?" Tears are streaming down your face now as you involuntarily nod, your whole body somehow enveloped in the warmth his touch is providing, despite how cold it is. Now that you're in your body, really truly in your body, you can notice the little things about your environment; you even notice the wind howling outside, not the loudest you could imagine, but enough that you know the storm is still blustering on. You try to blink open your eyes to look at him, but everything is blurred with your tears, and you vigorously shake your head back and forth, trying in vain to clear your vision. As if he can read your mind, Yunho's free hand comes up to wipe them away, and for some reason now it doesn't feel so bad, his hand touching your face gently, even if it still feels so new and strange. Once he's wiped away the tears you can get a good look at him, your faces only a few inches apart now.

"Am I right?" he asks, genuine, you know it's genuine, and you can't fucking believe it looking at him. He feels like one massive contradiction right now, and all you can do is whisper 'yeah' in response. Your answer clearly pleases him, and you suddenly feel his hand's movement slow, falter, and then he's moving his fingers down towards your entrance, pressing into you gently, only one finger at first.

"Yunho," you groan while shutting your eyes again, the feel of it so foreign, because if you were honest with yourself you hadn't had someone touch you in this way in years, and you weren't really one to put things inside of yourself if it was just you taking care of your needs.

"I know you need this," he responds, gently starting to pump in and out, the muscles of your cunt getting used to the feelings of pressure and release that they'd missed for so long.

"You have to forgive yourself," he starts up again, as he gradually starts upping his pace, working slowly and methodically. "You have to let yourself go of being that perfect angel. It's not realistic. You're a human, you're going to fuck up sometimes. And sometimes you have such a big crush on your handsome coworker that, well, you start acting out. And even you don't realize what you're doing, cause you're so caught up in your own head." You groan and roll your eyes when he calls himself handsome, and you still don't think you fully believe the rest of what he's said, but the first part, the part about forgiving yourself and freeing yourself of that perfect image, is calling to a part of you. "You're very sensitive, and I know you don't want to be, but you are. You can't ignore that, or it's gonna catch up with you time and time again."

He adds another finger, curling them up inside you in a perfect way, and you almost stop listening to what he's saying because at this point the pleasure is taking over your senses completely. He adds his thumb to your clit now, the feelings increasing exponentially, your clit feeling hot and fiery under his touch. It all still feels so foreign, so new, and something within you, particularly within the place he's touching you, still feels the need to hold back, to worry, to be tense. He can feel it too, and he guessed himself that you hadn't been touched in a while, from everything he'd observed about you. He figured you were someone who might have written off relationships and sex entirely, someone too focused on what their duty to the world was, to maintaining the image of good morals, that you weren't partaking in those things people consider selfish, or self-indulgent. He even wondered for a bit if you'd never been touched, but that seemed unlikely from some of the random comments he'd overheard in your conversations with Tally.

"You know, you can't come if you're so tense down there," he says, and again it's kind of patronizing, but you don't really care. "You have to let go."

"I- I've never come from, inside, st- stimulation," you stutter, looking at him directly, hoping to convey that despite your state you're being completely sincere.

"Really?"

"I- I can't," you say, shaking your head, thinking of all of your sexual exploits, the list of which can fit on one hand.

"I'm gonna try," he chuckles, his focus zeroing in on your body's reactions to his movements. "I really do need you to relax those muscles for me, relax your hips too. They're too tense, do you even feel that?" he asks, tapping the side of your thigh where the muscle is taught. You shake your head, frowning and burying your face into the duvet cover you're laying on. "No, don't shy away from me. Don't go back into your head. I know that's why you haven't come in the past, cause you were too in your head. You can't do that. Come on, just focus on my touch, think about how it feels, nothing else."

You try with all you have to follow his instructions, keeping your eyes on his face as you watch him furrow his brow in concentration, the muscles in his jaw flexing for a moment when he changes the angle of his hand ever so slightly. The new spot he was hitting inside felt so perfect, so shockingly deep, and finally your body started to cave into the feelings, your breathy moans coming out as you lost yourself in it, not thinking anymore about where you were or why you were there.

"You know you're not perfect, deep down you know that, and you need to accept that. You're not a robot, you're like all the rest of us, fucked up in so many ways, wanting selfishly for life to always go your way, wanting everyone to like you, praise you, cherish you. And that's okay, it doesn't make you some horrible person. You're neurotic, sensitive, intense, so what? You'll never not be those things, and that's okay. Just fucking let yourself be a human, so you don't get so fucking hung up on every little thing wrong with me." He punctuates the last word, reminding you why you're here. His hand is working you perfectly, and mixed with all that he's saying it's all encompassing, the overwhelming intensity you're feeling. Suddenly you feel something building deep within you, a coil about to snap, and you feel your legs begin to shake before it's even washing over you. The most intense orgasm of your life erupts within you, snaking out from your core down to your feet and back up again, surging to your head and making everything go gray and fuzzy, your mind blinded with a pleasure you've never known. You hear distant, warbled words coming from Yunho's mouth still, but you can't make them out as your orgasm builds in waves, lasting longer than you expect and completely knocking the wind from your lungs. As you come down you’re breathing ragged, so ragged, and you don't even realize that you've clamped down so hard on Yunho's hand that he can't move it anymore. You stare up at him, pupils blown and your face flushed, and in a moment he leans down to place a soft peck on your cheek, taking you by surprise.

"Why are you kissing me?" you ask, eyeing him with confusion and contempt, the action seeming absurd in the current circumstances.

"I'm proud of you. You finally gave into me, you're finally doing what I wanted you to," he replies. It's fucked, you know the sentiment is creepy and strange and so genuinely absurd, but you can't help feeling flattered by it. A small smile sneaks onto your lips, and Yunho sees how you're feeling too. "God you're a sucker for praise," he laughs, slowly removing his hand now that you've relaxed enough. "All you want to hear is that you're good, you're perfect. Can't bear anything else, can you?" You shake your head, as he stands up from where he's been sitting, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out swiftly, eyeing you up and down. Your face is one of shock, mostly at seeing the size of him; you're not sure where this is headed exactly, but you just hope he'll be gentle with you, whatever he does.

"What, you thought I wasn't going to do this?" he asks, starting to move onto the bed beside you.

"No, it's just..." you sigh, shaking your head, not even sure what to fucking say, still in the haze of your orgasm.

"Oh, you didn't think I'd be this big," he laughs.

"You're so fucking full of yourself," you mutter, rolling your eyes. "Just make it quick, please," you say, almost under your breath, regretting it the moment it's left your lips.

"I'll take as much time as I fucking want with you," he responds, lining himself up with your still soaking entrance, rubbing the head around to gather up some of your wetness. He's fucking into you sideways, his body over yours as you remain on your side, bound and unable to move at all. He enters you slowly, feeling the stretch himself, seeing your eyebrows furrow in what must be pain.

"How long has it been?" he asks, leaning over you as he finally bottoms out, staying put as he lets your body adjust to the size of him. You look confused, so he clarifies, "since you've been fucked?"

You groan, the majority of your brainpower taken up in dealing with the strange mix of pain and pleasure happening between your legs. You don't have it in you to fight with him now, and you don't really want to; you're almost enjoying it now, just letting him talk and belittle and say whatever he pleases.

Once he feels your body relax just that little bit he needs, he moves his hips back, gently pushing himself back in again, but quickly setting a pace that feels good for him. He's holding one arm around your back and anchoring that hand on the back of your neck; the other arm is bent at the elbow, supporting him and holding onto your bound legs and arms, anchoring him to you. The thrusts feel intense, sharp, and biting at first, but soon all you can feel is the way he's repeatedly hitting your cervix, his cock so deep inside you that you feel like you might explode. You can't help the pathetic mewls you're making, eyes closed as you hear his steady grunts and heavy breathing so close to your ear.

"I know you've rejected tons of men, if it's been as long as I think," he says, and you feel his breath brushing across your cheek and neck, making you shiver. "Not just men, I should say. You're so fucking oblivious to everything. Do you even realize that Tally has a huge crush on you? I'm sure she'd love to fuck your brains out," he chuckles, making you groan in annoyance again, not believing him for a second. "I'm sorry, I know, forgive me. I can't help myself, I just love telling you all the things I know you don't realize." His pace hasn't let up, if anything it's increased, and his grip on you is tightening, his torso now flush with yours and his face only inches from your own. "Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer, shit you're tight," he sighs, a groan rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He knows his pace will leave you sore tomorrow, but it feels too good for him to stop, and it seems just the right thing to finally get your mind off all of the superfluous, stressful stuff you usually obsessively think about. It's not just that either; he can feel your body slowly coming undone again, and though it's built differently than the last time, the tell tale signs are there in the way your hips start moving against him, your breathing changing just like it did before. You come hard again, the feeling erupting from even higher inside your core this time, and it feels even more intense the second time around, your whole body shaking intensely this time.

"See, your body needed this," he whispers in your ear, his hard thrusts continuing through your aftershocks, soon becoming painful and hard to bear. Your face has turned sour as he chases his own climax, and even as bad as it feels, part of you is so content to just sit here and take it. The feeling of having no other option, of being held here and used for another's pleasure, it makes some of your internal confusion go away. You liked this part at least; maybe everything that came before was not to your liking, but this part definitely was.

He finishes with a final hard thrust, groaning out a 'fuck', before pressing his hips flush with yours and keeping them there. You feel his warm cum filling you, his warm body wrapping around you, and finally you do truly feel warm, from the inside out. This was a feeling you could get used to, your head fuzzy and soft and lacking the usual worries you have, your body relaxed, spent, and warm.

It isn't long that you're in that position, Yunho pulling out of you quickly, walking over to his bathroom to grab a towel and start wiping you and his comforter clean of the mess he'd made. The absence of him left you feeling cold again, your body stiffening up faster than you thought it would, and your shivers returning as soon as he took the damp towel to your most sensitive area. Eyes closed you're still holding onto the remnants of that blissful feeling, especially the way your brain feels so wonderfully empty. You're surprised when you feel Yunho messing with your ropes, assuming he'd just leave you there for a little while, or maybe for a long while, it was hard to say. But quickly he's undone the entirety of the knots, and he tosses the rope onto the floor, manually moving your limbs to help your body stretch out and begin returning blood flow to the places that lost it.

It hurts when he does this, though it feels good too, but you whine and complain the whole time, even as he assures you it's best and it's needed. He then slowly takes off your clothes entirely, leaving you naked and exposed, and the cold is almost overbearing now, making your body ache all the way into your bones.

"It's fucking cold, you asshole," you groan, tucking yourself back up into that fetal position you were just in for so long, despite the fact that the ropes are gone now.

"Just give me a minute, I know," he sighs, somewhere behind you, over in the direction of his bathroom. You hear what must be the bathtub faucet turn on, the strong current of water sounding clearly through the quiet house. Then he's coming over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and carrying you that way, setting you gently into his huge tub before it's even finished filling. The hot water feels like it's sizzling your skin upon first contact, but soon your body relaxes in the warmth, especially your back once the water reaches all the way up to your neck. His tub is nice; there are spots designed specifically to rest your arms on, the slope of the side a comfortable angle for relaxing down onto.

"Give me your arms," he says, and you look up at him begrudgingly, holding your arms out of the water like it's the hardest thing in the world.

"Little brat," he mutters, taking the first into his hands and slowly applying some lotion to your rope burns, wrapping it loosely in a thin bandage. He does the same to the other, setting them both on the sides of the tub, out of the water. "Keep them there, I'm going to get some ice. We need to ice those burns so they don't bruise too badly," he says, and you just stare through him, not nodding or saying anything. He doesn't need that kind of confirmation though, he knows you'll follow his commands. He returns a few minutes later, two ice packs and more bandages in hand, and somehow balanced between it all, your phone.

"It looks like you have some missed calls," he says, showing you your phone screen. You see three missed calls from Yunji, and a slew of texts, and your heart jumps back up in speed momentarily, even in your relaxed and numb state.

"I gotta call her now," you say, your words rushed, reaching out your bandaged wrist to grab at your phone. Yunho holds it just out of reach though, and then sets it down on the counter by the sink, turning back to you with a knowing look.

"I need to ice your wrists first. Then we'll call her," he says.

"Yunho, seriously, she's gonna call the fucking police, I know her," you respond, eyeing him sharply with disapproval.

"And you, seriously, need to wait a moment," he snaps, and you really don't like this control now, because it's affecting someone else, not just you.

"I fucking hate you," you mutter, pushing yourself up despite your weak and painful muscles, moving yourself out of his bathtub without a care in the world for all of the water you're spilling everywhere.

"Okay, okay, fine," he concedes, holding onto your shoulders while your one foot is still in the tub, not letting you move any further. "I'm putting it on speaker on the side of the tub, so that I can ice your wrists." Your faces are inches apart, the look in his eye is intense, almost like he's compelling you to agree with him.

"Fine," you sigh, sitting yourself back down, your body basking in being back in the water. Then, as he said, he's set your phone on the side of the tub, somehow guessing your passcode and opening it with ease, calling Yunji immediately. As the call begins to ring he sets to work on your wrists again, gently wrapping the ice packs around the smaller bandages already on your sensitive skin.

"Girl, oh my god, where are you??" Yunji answers, her panic obvious.

"I'm- I'm at Yunho's, I'm fine though, I swear-" you start, knowing she'll be horrified by just his name alone.

"Oh my god what???" she cuts you off, gasping. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Yes I'm okay, Yun, I promise. I just- I ran into him on my way back from the store, and well, I got sort of, tied up, talking with him, and then the storm came so- so now I'm stuck here." Yunho's face breaks into a smirk, knowing just how literal two of the words you just said are.

"Oh god, you poor thing, are you sure you're okay? That man is insane," she sighs. Yunho eyes you, a playful look on his face, almost like he's trying to avoid laughing.

"Seriously, I'm okay, I promise. It was actually really good, I guess, talking about things. We were more, uh, honest I guess? I- I don't know, there's a lot to process. It was weird. But I'm okay, I- I swear," you sigh, wishing you weren't stuttering so much over your words.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks again.

"I know I sound like a mess, I'm sorry. The storm is kind of freaking me out," you reply.

"It's okay hun, don't apologize. I can't believe you're stuck there with him. God, I don't think you'll be able to come home tonight. Is there somewhere you can sleep there?" Yunho nods at her question, eyeing you as he does.

"Uh, yeah, he has a guest room here. He said I could stay in there. At least it's separate, my own space," you answer her.

"God, I'm so sorry you're there. I shouldn't have let you go to the store, I should have stopped you..." she trials off, and you can bet her hand is slapped over her face in frustration.

"No, don't apologize Yun, I think it was good that this happened. I mean, I don't know, at least something has changed between me and him. And you had no idea that the storm would return so quickly like it did. It was my own stupidity, if anything, I just-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head side to side against the hard porcelain of the tub. "Thank you for checking up on me, I'm sorry I missed your calls. I was just talking with him, I got distracted. I hate that I worried you so much." It feels a little weird lying to her, but above all you want her to know you appreciate how much she looks out for you.

"It's okay, I'm just glad you're safe and okay. And hopefully tomorrow it'll clear up enough that you can come back here where you belong."

Her last word brings tears to your eyes, thinking of your perfect little apartment and just how much of a home you two have made of it.

"I love you so much," you sigh, looking over at your phone, wishing you were seeing her face instead.

"I love you too, I wish you were here," she replies.

"I know, me too," you say.

"We can keep talking if you want."

"I- I should probably go, I'm starving so I guess I need to go ask Yunho about dinner. But I'll call later, if that's okay? I'm sure I'll be bored as shit," you chuckle, and she does too, the tension finally breaking.

"Sounds good, call me whenever. I hope he has something decent for you to eat. I doubt he can cook or anything, if he's such a spoiled rich boy." You both laugh in sync, Yunho rolling his eyes as he places the final bandage on your second wrist, securing the ice packs in place.

"Okay, talk to you soon," you say, smirking up at him.

"Bye bye," she replies, hanging up the call.

"You two are so mean," he sighs, shaking his head and walking out of the room, and you relax into the silence of the room, your wrists starting to feel the cold of the ice packs, the relief palpable. Your body is wrecked, you can feel it intensely, but the warm bath relaxing your muscles and ice on your wrists is making it bearable, your body already on the path towards healing. Yunho returns about ten minutes later, when you've almost nodded off, and takes a small washcloth into the warm water, using it to wipe the snot and tears that have stained your cheeks. Then he's feeding you a warm cup of tea, holding it as your arms lay unusable at your sides; he does the same with the small bowl of stew he's heated for you, the tastes rich and fresh in a way that make it obvious it's homemade. The attentiveness doesn't feel overly sweet, but the calm that's settled in the air between you isn't something you've experienced with him at all, the entire time you've known one another. You're both silent, comfortable, and the warm stew is just so delicious, the meat tender and soft and perfectly seasoned. Your senses are overwhelmed in solace, your breaths deep and stable. Your nerves have returned to you, so you're no longer numb. But instead of the high strung alertness that usually accompanies you, your body is present but calm.

When you finally finish the stew and tea, thirty minutes have passed in total silence, Yunho taking his time with feeding you, letting your body relax in the hot water. He places the empty bowl and mug on the counter, moving back to start unwrapping the ice packs, and then beckoning you to stand, bringing a huge fluffy towel to wrap around your shoulders. The towel dwarfs you, keeping the cold away, and you gently step out of the tub, following Yunho wherever he leads you.

"Can you walk?" he asks, and you nod your head, following him over towards the counter. He pulls out a brush from one of the drawers, gently taking it to the knots that had formed in your hair, the ends damp from the tub. After he finishes he leads you out of his room, down the hall two doors down, and you enter to another room with a large bed, a TV on the opposite wall, the whole room immaculately decorated. He leads you to the bed, placing your phone on the bedside table and grabbing a charger out of the drawer. He also grabs the remote inside, placing it next to your phone, and a bottle of water, holding it out to you.

"I'll be in my room, if you need anything else," he says, standing up to make his way out.

"I'm sorry I kept ignoring your texts, and calls," you say, your voice quiet, the words escaping you without much thought.

He just eyes you for a minute, turning to face you, his face unreadably neutral. "I'm not," he finally says, smiling, that cocky grin back on his perfect face. You roll your eyes at him, settling into the bed, pulling the comforter up and over you.

He makes to leave the room again, but stops himself at the door, turning back to face you one final time

"We're going back to the office Monday, right?" he asks.

You don't respond, you don't say a word. But he doesn't need you to. He knows the answer, just like he knows you, with a certainty maybe he shouldn't have.

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#ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #dark fic

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