#she does look like a receptionist I’ll give her that

[love-overdrive]

I attempted to do the part 4 art style for Mary 4, using Yukako as a base!

[gh0stsp1d3r]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ rafe x his calico critter obsessed gf

cw: none! all fluff (: my favorites have always been my lil deep sea Sylvanian family… so..

MASTERLIST

“Y/n! why the hell is your rabbit in my underwear?” He asked, holding up the little figurine, your little flora rabbit in his hands.

“Oh! I’ve been looking for that! Thanks, ray!” You beamed, ignoring his question. He huffed, throwing the animal on the bed next to you.

“How does it even end up there?” He mumbled to himself, putting on his pants with an eye-roll.

You held it in your hands, standing up to put her in her respective place on the shelf next to the others. You shrugged, “Well, maybe it’s like Toy Story.”

“… what?” He asked, pausing his rummaging in the closet to turn back and look at you.

“Yeah. You know, when we see them they’re just toys, and then when it’s night they come alive.” You spoke, sitting in front of your vanity, fixing your makeup and hair

“Right… and your dumbass little rabbit walks into my underwear drawer?”

“Hey! Don’t call her a dumbass.”

He shook his head with a small, amused smile on his face. He got out his suit jacket, pulling it over his shoulders. You stood next to him, leaning against him.

“So sorry, babe.” He retorted, you moving to help him tie his tie. He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face. He grabbed your face when you were done, pecking your lips.

He grabbed his briefcase off his bed, you sitting back down on the bed with a small pout on your lips. “Do you have to go?” You asked him, already knowing his answer.

“I’ll be back quick, baby.” He told you, putting on his shoes. “Just- like I said, go out and have fun with your friends or whatever.” He waved his hand, standing up again.

You stood up again, going over to him. You had a small smirk on your face as you pulled out your little shark clothed figurine, hiding it as you kissed him, his hands going to cup your face. You moved your hand, slipping it into his suit pocket square before moving your hand on his back, pulling him closer, his body molding into yours.

“Mm-mm- baby, baby, I gotta go.” He told you, pulling away for a moment, giving you one last kiss. “I love you!” He spoke while running down the stairs, looking down at the watch on his wrist.

“Love you too!”

Oh you are good, you thought as you heard the door shut.

And so, Rafe walks into the meeting with a little shark clothed creature in his pocket- it was comical. The whole meeting, people glanced at each other and he heard a few whispers while he spoke. Although confused, he ignored it.

It wasn’t until his receptionist spoke up, right when he was walking out the doors.

“Mr. Cameron, you do know you have… something.. right there… right?” She motioned to the spot on his chest, him knitting his eyebrows together with confusion.

“What?” He mumbled, looking down at his chest. The corners of his lips quirked up, a groan leaving his mouth as he pulled it out of his square pocket, examining it while rolling his eyebrows, tucking it back into his pockets.

Taglist:

@moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0

[burguesinha24]

KITTY KAT

a/n: I need her… P IS FOR PUSSY P-U-S-S-Y, THAT PUSSY

Pairings: personaltrainer!Vi x f!reader

Warnings: she does indeed take you to pound town, very self indulgent (i hate working out), fingering, oral (you receiving), spitting (tehe), kinda fluffy idk, semi-public sex GRRRAH

Song: Kitty Kat, Megan Thee Stallion (our queen)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gym.

One of the worst fucking places in existence. 

Who the fuck could ever take pleasure in being sweaty and tired and sore?

You, apparently. 

You didn’t necessarily like working out. (It was the bane of your existence) But your doctor had said it was healthy, and it was New Year’s, so now was as good a time to start as any. Plus, it gave you an excuse to wear the adorable sports bra and skirt combo your sister had gotten you.

As expected, the gym was absolutely packed. You could see white dudes flexing from every corner, along with a few (glorious) muscle mommies. Unfortunately, the universe did not seem to support your dream (that was whole-heartedly pushed on you by your friends and doctor) of getting fit for the year.

“Apologies, ma’am, but we just don’t have enough space at the moment.” You stared down at the poor, overworked receptionist and frowned, credit card already in hand.

“Really? But I can spot a few extra spaces-”

“It’s a fire hazard, ma’am. You’ll have to wait outside or come back at an earlier time.” 

“There’s really no space? At all?” The teenager looked down at the computer in front of him. 

“Well, we do have available spots with our private trainers, but you’d have to pay for the session. As well as an extra fee for being so last-minute.” You cursed under your breath, moving to put your credit card back in your bag when someone cut you off.

“I’ll take her.” You looked up at the sound of the voice, only to find piercing blue eyes already staring at you. It was scary, honestly, how fit she was. Her messy pink hair flopped carelessly to the side, over one of her eyes, and her body was littered with tattoos. She was already glowing, probably from an earlier exercise. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her grey sweats as she walked over to the teenager behind the desk.

“You sure, Vi? You don’t usually ta-”

“I said I’ll take her, Ekko.” She glanced up at you again, an easy smile playing on her ridiculously attractive features. “She looks like she’s never stepped foot inside a gym before.” Your face flushed at her absolutely correct observation. Her gaze darted down to take in your appearance, shamelessly dragging up and down your frame. You suddenly felt a little self-aware about the light pink set you had decided to wear, even if your sweater was drowning your figure. 

Fuck, I do look like I have no idea what I’m doing.

“I’ve been inside a gym before.” You finally responded, frowning at the way her grin only grew.

“Sure you have, cupcake.” Your heart pounded erratically at the nickname, and you silently cursed the universe for putting you in the position to make a fool of yourself in front of such an attractive woman. The teenager behind the desk, Ekko, glanced between the two of you, sighing and turning back to his computer with a look that said, ‘I-don't-get-paid-enough-for-this’.

“Alright, that’ll be-”

“Free of charge, Ekko.” You tore your gaze from her hypnotic blue eyes to look down at the young man. He raised an eyebrow. “Fine, whatever. I gotta give a reason, though. What should I code in? That you were too horny to-” She coughed loudly, drowning out the rest of his sentence. He smirked at her as she sent him a harsh glare. 

“I’ll deal with that later, just give her a damn card.” 

One sibling-like argument later and a shiny new membership card in your hand, you found yourself in one of the training rooms with the attractive stranger. 

Vi.

Her name echoed in your mind. You wondered what it was short for. Victoria? Vivian? Vienna? She watched as you set your stuff down in the corner of the room, nervously fiddling with your water bottle until it finally decided to stand upright without falling over. She eyed you expectantly as you turned around.

“What?” You finally said, picking at the fabric of your sweatshirt. 

“You gonna take that off?” Your cheeks flamed. “I don’t go easy.” She tilted her head. “I would hate for you to get uncomfortable and sweaty before we even start.” Holy shit the way she was talking had you second guessing what you were really here for. You obeyed her request, (because, duh) slowly sliding off your sweatshirt to reveal the set you had chosen out for today. Something flickered in her eyes as she drank in the sight of you.

Shit, she had thought you were hot in the lobby, but this? This was just fucking unfair. You looked like a goddess. Your skirt just barely hung half-way down your thighs, and your bra pushed up your breasts in a way that had her mouth watering. She quickly tore her gaze off of your body as you cleared your throat.

Get it the fuck together, Vi.

“So, what are your goals, hm? Any particular things you want to hit?” She made her way over to the closet in the room, sifting through the selections of weights and trying to ignore the heat thrumming through her body that had nothing to do with her previous workout. 

“I don’t really know. I guess just… being healthy?” You sounded so shy, so tentative. She fought the shudder that was threatening to roll down her spine. 

“Well, I guess I’ll start you off easy. Work on your core,” Now it was your turn to shudder. “Maybe hit some squats too.” She turned back around, closing the closet and tilting her head to better look at you. “Just to get a lay of the land, hm, cupcake?” Your face felt like it was in a perpetual state of fire. You nodded eagerly.

She made her way over to you after turning on some music that felt way too sensual for a workout. (of this type, anyway.) 

“We’re gonna start with some stretching, ok?” You fiddled with your fingers, nodding like a child being instructed by a teacher. Vi circled your form before settling on standing behind you, her hands gently resting on your hips. “Gonna need you to spread your legs for me, pretty.” The words, whispered so softly and so dangerously in your ear, almost made you gasp. You tilted your head to look back at her, eyes blown (adorably, if she might add) wide. She grinned, a seductive, dangerous thing that made your panties drop. (Figuratively). She raised an eyebrow. “What? I don’t want you to pull a hamstring, cupcake.” You swallowed thickly, trying to will away the increasingly inappropriate thoughts that were crowding your mind.

Slowly, slowly, you spread your legs, biting back a whimper as her hand snaked up your back, gently pushing your upper body down into a sort of downward dog position. The burn you felt in your legs was almost embarrassing. The moment you were down, fingertips brushing the floor, Vi’s gaze went straight to your ass.

“Fuck.” The words slipped past her lips before she could even realize what she was doing. She tucked her bottom lip under her teeth, dragging the hand that was on your back higher, just tracing the curve of your ass. 

You were wet.

She could see the faintest of outlines through the thin layer of your undershorts. 

You whimpered, legs shaking ever so slightly from the strain of the stretch. (You really needed to workout more)

Now she was wet.

Without even thinking, she grabbed you by your ponytail, yanking you up into a standing position. The force of her movement made you stumble, your legs still awkwardly stretched wide. Thankfully, she had stuck out her knee for you to sit on. 

“I think,” She breathed in your ear, a hot, heavy thing that sent an embarrassing amount of slick oozing out of your cunt. “That we should focus on a different type of workout, hmm, cupcake?” You nodded slowly, dazed. And fuck, was she a woman starved. 

In a second you found yourself on the floor, looking up at her with wide, desperate eyes. You clenched your thighs together, your hips rocking up into the air for some form of friction. She took her time, just staring at you. At the way your hair fanned out around you like a halo, the way your breasts moved with each shuddering breath you took, the way you looked so, so wrecked. A dangerous grin spread across her face.

She was going to ruin you.

There was not a single coherent thought in your mind as she hastily dragged your skirt and panties off of your legs in one, harsh tug. She was manhandling your legs open, and you swore she whined at the sight of your glistening arousal. 

“Fuck, baby.” She whispered out hoarsely. You squirmed under her gaze, cheeks burning in embarrassment as you tried to close your legs. “No no no no no, don’t you fucking dare.” She dragged her middle finger down your slit, gathering up your juices before bringing her finger to her mouth and sucking. “Been dreaming of this sweet pussy for so long.” She moaned out. 

“B-but, we just met like, h-half an hour ago.” You sputtered out, your cheeks rosy and your eyes hazy with lust and confusion. She grinned again, lowering her head so she was a hair's breadth away from where you needed her most.

“Thirty minutes is a long fucking time, cupcake.” You didn’t even have time to process her words before she was wrapping her lips around your clit, giving it a harsh suck that left you keening. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You gasped out, back arching at how her tongue skillfully lapped at your pussy. She hummed against your burning flesh, the vibrations against your puffy clit making your toes curl. The obscene sounds of slurping and squelching filled the room, and you might have had half a mind to care about it if you weren’t so fucking far gone by the feel of her mouth. 

“Taste so good, princess.” She mumbled against your skin. You dared to look down and, fuck, she looked even more wrecked then you were. Her eyes hazy and half-lidded, cheeks flushed and shiny from your juices, and her hair sticking to her face with each deliberate suck. You could vaguely make out how she was grinding against the ground, but she pulled away before you could actually think of helping her as well. You whined at the loss, reaching down to try and tug her closer to you. 

“P-please-oh-” You gasped as she spit on your already slobbering cunt, once, twice, three times, before she was satisfied. Your clit twitched as the globs of her saliva attacked it. 

“Shh, baby, trying to make sure your nice and messy f’me.” She rubbed a few quick circles on your clit with her thumb before prodding at your entrance with her pointer finger. Her eyes were glued to the way your face contorted as she pressed into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” She whispered in awe.

“OhmygodViplease.” Your begging was nothing more than a long string of incoherent words. She chuckled, pressing yet another long, thick finger into your opening.

“Fucked dumb already?” She cooed, thrusting into you shallowly. You almost sobbed. It was only when she added a third finger that she was finally satisfied. Her slow, shallow thrusts turned fucking manic. Her eyes never left your face as she curled her fingers up with each thrust searching for-

“Fuck!” You squealed, your walls clamping down on her like a vice. She crawled up your frame, leaning down to nip at your neck before thrusting in that same spot again.

“Found it.” Her gazed dropped from your face to look down at her fingers as she fucked you, her mouth parting open in awe at how you were swallowing her up, you arousal dripping onto the floor beneath you. It didn’t take long before you were on the very precipice, just dangling off the edge of oblivion. She pressed down harder on your clit, and then you came. 

Your back arched into an almost painful position, your fingernails digging into the floor for something to anchor yourself to. She whispered in your ear as you saw white, her fingers still fucking you through your orgasm. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. There we go, perfect fucking pussy.” She finally stopped as you collapsed, boneless on the floor. You turned your head to look up at her, smiling tiredly.

“What’s your name short for?” She grinned.

“Violet.” 

“Mm, pretty.” You winced as she closed your legs, then blushed as she sucked her fingers clean. “What about you?” Your brows furrowed as you pushed yourself up by your elbows. 

“You can do me later. After our date.” You blinked in surprise, your mind still a little hazy.

“Date?” She stood up, then helped you stand on shaky legs. 

“Well, our session has ended, so I figured we could pick things up at your place, maybe. I know a bomb-ass asian restaurant just off Main.” You smiled softly, and it made her beat just a little faster.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll see you then.” You walked out of the private room looking a hell of a lot more disheveled then when you first walked in. Ekko rolled his eyes, praying to whoever was up there that he wouldn’t have to clean any suspicious stains from the floor. 

You looked down at your phone as it pinged, smiling to yourself as you read the message.

Hope you enjoyed our workout, cupcake ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: my first ever like actual fic pls don't kill me guys ik its kind of shit, was honestly just trying to get this out of the way so i could work on oil rig worker Vi. ANYWAYS I LUV U ALL MWAH!

[wandascosmic]

whatcha doing with a boy like that? (1)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part one of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 1348

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

“I have a question for you,” Wanda whispers. 

You smile, leaning further over Wanda’s receptionist's desk to hear the question. 

You can see Wanda suppressing a laugh as she says, “Are you going to Jennifer’s cat party on Sunday,” finally breaking as she finishes her sentence.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe how serious she is about her cats.”   

Wanda looks up at you from her chair smiling at you, and you smile back, secretly pulling out a container of mixed berry yogurt from behind the desk and placing it on the elevated edge along with a metal spoon on top of the lid. 

“You made me forget what I came here for,” you say, pointing towards the yogurt. “Special delivery of a mixed berry yogurt for your afternoon snack break.” 

Wanda grins and takes the items from her best friend. 

“You know my favorite flavor of yogurt?” 

“Nah, it was the last one in the fridge.” 

Wanda’s face falls. 

You smile. “I’m kidding,” you say, bringing the smile back to Wanda’s face, “of course I know the same flavor of yogurt you’ve eaten for the past 7 years.” 

Vision doesn’t. Wanda thinks in her head. But that’s fine, he only sees her at the end of the workday, so it makes sense that you would know instead. 

You’re about to ask Wanda what’s wrong since you see her lost in thought, but you’re both suddenly interrupted. 

“Y/N!” Tony, your boss calls out. “Stop giggling with Maximoff and get back to work!”

“Since when did you care about your work Tony?” Nat calls out. 

“Good point,” he responds, walking back into his office.

You turn to look at Wanda giving her an apologetic look. “I should probably get back to work anyways,” you tell her, pointing at your desk over your shoulder. 

Wanda nods, a little deflated on the inside since you’re the only thing that makes her work day more interesting. 

You sigh as you sit down at your desk, picking up your phone to make a few sales calls. 

Wanda does the same, doing her job of answering the ringing phone with ‘Shield Industries this is Wanda’ over, and over, and over again.

You notice Wanda out of the corner of your eye, seeming a bit forlorn compared to before. 

You smirk, knowing exactly what to do to make her feel better. 

“God, damn it!” Sam yells out, growling. “Damn it! Y/N!” 

“Hold on, hold on. Sam, what happened?” Tony asks. 

Sam sighs, putting his head in his hand. 

“She put my stuff in Jell-O again,” he pulls out the plate that has the stapler encased in the lemon dessert. 

And right on cue, Wanda lets out a shocked laugh, her hand going to cover her mouth to suppress her laughter. You smile. 

“That’s real professional. Thanks a lot, Y/N. Tony, do something.” 

You decide to engage in a bit more banter for Wanda. You pull out a Jell-O cup and a plastic spoon from your drawer, opening it to eat the treat. 

“How do you know it was me?” You ask as you lean back in your chair. 

“It’s always you!” Sam snaps.   

Tony sighs. “Alright, the thing about practical jokes is you need to know when to start and when to stop,” you look over at Wanda, sharing a knowing look as she smiles at you. “And Y/N, I think it’s time for you to stop putting Sam’s personal items in Jell-O.

You nod, placing the Jell-O cup down and swallowing the Jell-O that had been in your mouth. “Alright. Sam, I'm sorry, because I have always been your biggest flan,” your mouth quirks up into a smile at your pun. 

You watch Wanda out of the corner of your eye bite down on her fist to stop from laughing. 

Tony snorts. “That was a good one,” he puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You know what, that’s just the way it is around here. Just deal with it, Sam.”

“I’m not gonna deal with it, Tony. It’s damage to company property.” 

“I’ll order a new one, dude. And those staplers are getting old anyways.” 

Sam sighs. “Fine, whatever.” 

Tony leaves to go back to his office.

“Hey, Sam,” you say.  

“What do you want?” 

“You should’ve put me in custardy.” 

Wanda lets out another laugh. 

“Do you like going out at the end of the week for a drink?” You ask Wanda, leaning over her receptionist desk and smiling at her. 

“Yeah,” Wanda replies, looking up at you. 

“Yeah, I mean.” you shrug. “That’s why we’re all going out. You know, so we can have an end-of-the-week drink.” 

“So when are we going out?” she asks, hopeful to have some fun after a while. 

“I don’t know, tonight, hopefully.” 

Suddenly, the creak of the door opening is heard, and you both turn your heads to see Vision walk in. Wanda’s fiance. You pull away from her desk. 

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you reply. 

“Hey, babe,” he says to Wanda. 

“Hi, Vis,” she leans over her desk to kiss him. You look away. “Do you mind if I go out for a drink with my friends from work?” she points to you and the rest of the Shield Industry staff. 

He looks over at you before responding. “Uh, no, no, let’s just go home, Wanda.” 

Wanda frowns but quickly replaces it with a neutral look. “Um, okay. Give me a few minutes though,” she points to the various papers on her desks. “I still need to do my faxes since it’s only 20 past 5.” 

You watch the way her eyebrows are still creased, and you can tell that she had been looking forward to a night out. 

Wanda walks around her desk and smiles at the two of you, heading off towards the fax machine. 

You open and close your fists nervously, turning around to face Wanda’s fiance. “You know what, you should come with us. You know, since we’re all going out, it would be a good chance to see what people are like outside of the office. Who knows, it could be fun,” you tell him. 

He shakes his head. “No, I think we’re good. We’ve gotta get going anyways.”

You nod, “Sure, no worries.” 

You and him stand there for a bit, and you can’t help but break the awkward silence, “What’s in the, um, what’s in the bag?” you point to the black trash bag he has in his right hand. 

He gives you an annoyed look before turning around, “just tell her I'll talk to her later,” he says to you and walks out the door. 

“Got it, no problem.” 

Your co-workers’ plan to go out for drinks has been canceled, and you sit at your desk trying to finish up your sales work as fast as possible. 

“Hey.” 

You swivel around in your chair to face Wanda who has her arms crossed over her baby blue button-up shirt, looking stressed.

“Hey, are you ok?” you reply. 

“Oh, oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she waves her hand. “Weren’t you going out for a drink with everyone?”

“Oh, no, the plans got canceled.” 

She frowns. “I’m sorry that’s a bummer.” 

You chuckle. “No worries, Wanda, I think I’ll be ok.” 

She lets out a laugh. “Yeah, sorry,” she looks around. “Hey, are you, uh, um-” she points towards the door. 

“Walking out?” you supply with a smile. 

She grins. “Yeah, that.” 

“Yes I am, Maximoff. Wanna go together?” 

She purses her lips and nods. 

You start packing up your stuff while Wanda waits for you, but suddenly you both hear an aggressive honk outside. 

You pause to pack up your stuff. “Oh, shoot, Vision.” 

She looks at you apologetically, “yeah, sorry, Y/N. Have a nice weekend!” she tells you before turning around and running off to meet Vision in his car. 

“You too,” you tell her, leaning back in your chair.  

You sigh as you watch the girl you’ve been in love with for 7 years go home to her stupid fiance.

part 2

[ladythornofrivia]

Mr. Targaryen Will See You Now

Modern!Aemond x Reader (three parts)

warnings (for the future chapters): sex, oral sex, loss of virginity, squirting, stalking, obsession, manipulation, reader being clueless, but not totally innocent, blackmail, p in v sex, blood kink, knife kink, gun kink, handcuff kink, bdsm, masturbation, fingering

a/n: I’ve been doing okay, but things have been complicated. There are times I wish someone would love and protect me like in the romance book—longing for a romantic life and longing for connection and consistency. I’m still clinging on. Oh, and I started to drive, I’ve gotten better at driving, but still need to learn. And my family has been cruel to me that even made me believe that no one will love me. But art is my passion, one thing that keeps me alive until now. And thank you guys, for supporting me. I love you guys very much.

The morning hair wasn’t cooperating; you took a nice long, hot shower the night before the interview—which you knew nothing about, and planned on spending time to read books and drink merlot and binge on snacks, or watching korean soap operas, being a usual daydreamer you are— and you were getting ready for the interview, groggy, and sobbing on the inside.

The iron curl is broken. And nothing to repair except for your roommate’s curler, tried to make the curls tighter, hence why you brushed your hair back for a softer effect.

Long story short, your friend has called in sick, and asked you to fill in the details for her. Nevertheless, a shy and innocent girl such as yourself. Under a bad weather, you have to fill in, that’s what a good friend does.

Any shenanigans and canceled during the day of interview meant blacklist.

The appointment must be that important.

Clad in knit white jacket with black lines, white top and silky pleated skirt, with your sideswept longish strands tucked in, you were sure you’re going to vomit. Vomit from misery, vomit from stomach pain, or vomit from an awful weather, you made sure your clean, it-girl makeup is on plastered to your sleepy expression, hoping no one would take you as a joke. Presenting as possible also means the downside of being insecure or inferior is low. But with amount of makeup you set up, you made sure you’re neither too plain nor extravagant.

Everything has to be balanced accordingly. But appearance willing to stand out, if the destiny allows it to be.

“You got that tape recorder, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And the interview sheet?”

“Got it right here in my purse.”

“How about the gift for him?”

Your brows knitted. “I have it all set. I don’t think he’s going to accept this. There’s no way in hell.”

“Not if it comes from gorgeous lady like you. You look prim and proper today! Ready to go at the Met Gala, Miss Victoria’s Secret Model?”

“Ha, as if! Besides, I can’t go in looking like a wet rag. They’ll kick me out.” Sprayed a fee spritz of the sweet, vanilla, cotton-candy smelling perfume on your neck and neckline over your interview getup.

“Funny.” Your friend howled a wet, sloppy and stuffy sneeze. “Don’t mind me, just get your round ass going before someone decides to come behind you and give it a good smack, and it’s not going to be me.”

She spilled a good part of the soup as your friend accidentally swallowed and slurped the noodle and coughed. Oops.

“Careful, that’s a $50 white carpet I just got,” you said with a tiny smile.

“I’m being careful,” your friend said, inspecting the bowl if the spicy soup spilled. And there’s none.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go ahead. Stay still.”

“And you stay naughty with your ass poking out,” your friend shouted behind you as you walked off.

You must achieve perfectionism at all costs. That’s what beauty is for.

~~~

As you entered the high floor of the building, the receptionists, looking flawless and elegant, greeted you, as if you’re another member of the company. Beautiful women with beautiful problems with beautiful men, you’d assume.

“Miss Stark?”

“Yes?” you replied, the receptionist insisted to take your coat off, but you politely refused with a sweet grin, but you gave your umbrella instead. Nonetheless, the secretary lead you to the high double doors—grey and glossy.

Immaculate.

“Mr. Targaryen will see you now.”

And opened the door. By your mistake, you didn’t realize one of your items dropped, causing you to lunge forward and knees bruised, following by your personal items and paper for the interview flopped on the ground.

Your ankle received a sharp pain, pressuring.

By the glass window, a long-haired man in a steel grey suit pivoted his head around from the noise and approached. “Are you alright, miss?”

His voice tuned in your ears. You have never heard a voice with profound deepness and…seduction.

A realization pang when you found yourself agitating like a shy teenage girl in high school, a shy, awkward girl talking to a handsome guy. You bet he’s the type of guy who’s popular, but doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of him, or that he doesn’t occur to him as a benefit of being popular.

You’ve never seen him on papers and articles on the internet. No picture has come to a close when you glimpsed at him in person. Too long, in fact. You thought it would be an old man wanting more attention from the source of dangerous media.

He’s that gorgeous.

Immaculate. Neat.

And strictly punctual.

Is he taking his father’s place for the interview?

“I’m doing okay, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience,” you replied with modesty, nearly breaking the sweat on your brow.

Instead, he huffed, returning back to his desk and leaned himself over the table, awaiting. Watching. A faint scar outlined from the thin brow to cheekbone.

You’d assume he’s associated with dangerous people underground. Though you never knew him personally. Only an assumption.

“Sit,” he commanded, ever so still.

Gulping your parched throat, after drinking water and caffeine—you purchased on your way—in the car, heading for the massive building, you wondered drinking coffee has an effect on the stability in the nervous system. Sat on one of the empty green chairs, you had your utensil pen you bought online from a Japanese website and an aesthetic mini notebook, readying the questions. Flipping over the rippled pages, you studied over the questions, and as it turns out your friend has more of an aspect on the side of…inappropriate philosophy.

Nearly face palming yourself, you wanted to strangle your friend for setting you up for failure.

What the hell are you thinking, dude?

“Are you just going to sit there and act like a mousy librarian or are you going to interview me for the benefit of my time and success?”

Shoulder blades flinched at the sound of his tone. “Pardon me, sir,” you stated, nearly shitting your skirt and thong on his green velvet chair. And cleared your throat. “My first question is…” Your friend’s questions doesn’t give that much benefit for his time and success, so you tweaked your friend’s intentions to more of a productive approach. “How do you stabilize the company despite on the near downfall from the predecessor’s influential endeavors?”

Aemond’s violet eye gleamed. “You did your research on my father.”

In silence, your head inclined as acknowledgment.

“My father’s attempts on reclaim to the company was rather a long difficult process. His real endeavor was to lure people for…unsavory tasks and planned on passing his inheritance to his oldest daughter, my half-sister, Rhaenyra.”

Something in his statement was trying to say he wishes to air the dirty laundry. But you knew that he’s not an idiot.

“And how do you approach it compared to his “past” attempts?”

“Business travels had more suitable to catering and stabilizing the company in years, by speaking to several CEOs and their predecessors who are much more responsible to financial and stocks, how they be able to keep the staff members and their company intact in excellent condition and how business traveling has more benefits on success than staying in one place in one country. Their predecessors are much more controlling than how much stocks they hold—eventually they lost their staff and shares due to certain disadvantages. I learned both sides of the same coin, and I learned to take advantage of both.”

“By being fair and firm,” you assumed, pen scribbling. “You want to be superior and be well-respected, but you also try to be fair in all sides to keep a steady balance, hence why you travel to different countries to learn about different cultures and their ways of work culture, how they handle their staff and clients. And you looked at the bad effects to make sure no mistake is taken place.”

“Precisely.” Aemond smirked as you wrote along his statement.

Scribbling further down on the page until you flipped to a next one, you tweaked another question that your friend’s opposing curiosity has.

“With comes along the inheritance, and with the hefty influence of social media, how do you manage to steady the balance as well? With your father’s…whereabouts and the company, and with today’s social influence and societal aspects on differences, how else do you keep manage from falling?”

Aemond clicked his tongue. “It was a difficult process, and like any ordinary day, we strive for sanity to survive. Not everyone handles scandals correctly. While those who handle with promiscuity, I handled myself, the staff and the company with grace.”

“I assumed that some of the members who are in connections with you, have no ability to face the outcome with grace like you?” you said without thinking.

Aemond frowned at that. “Not everyone.”

“My apologies, sir.” You flipped the blank page over. “And with that said, how do you envision your company in the next 30 years?”

“The questions you asked are vitally intimidating. Are you trying to challenge me in a way?”

“For your benefit of time and success, yes.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a soft grin. “Clever girl.”

Gulped again, you found your legs coiled to a tighter position. Hand nearly shook and released the pen, but caught on it.

Focus, (Y/N). No time to be naughty.

Stop being naughty. Don’t leave yourself along with naughty thoughts. You don’t want to jump on him.

Aemond sat down near you to another set of green velvet chair.

“Continue,” he said, almost sounded like a purr.

“I, uh,” you looked over your friend’s silly questions and alternate it with another. Meanwhile Aemond amused himself with your fluster. “With you as a CEO of the Targaryen Company, where do you find yourself in the next 20 years? Are you planning to be the CEO, or are you planning to inherit the company and stocks to someone new, someone who’s not related to you, even?”

Aemond’s head tilted to the side, his white-blond hair spilled over his right shoulder.

“I would like to know more about yourself, Miss Stark. For a woman who belongs to a prestigious family, your wit and tongue are sharp. Are you always this curious?”

“You’ve met them?”

His brow flicked up. “I met your father during the meeting sometime last week. He has a well-deserved reputation.”

Your hands clutched tighter.

Aemond squinted his hues. “There’s more than meets the eye. What is your name?”

Correcting your postured, you answered in delicate voice. “My name is (Y/N), sir. (Y/N) (L/N).”

Aemond hummed. “(Y/N). I never thought you took your friend’s place to interview me.”

“She’s sick.”

“Figures.”

Your brows scrunched. “How do you know?”

“I can see the way you’re fidgeting to your pen.”

“How do you know her?”

“I know she’s not the brightest girl, nor a brightest student. I overheard her spoke once over a party on how she wanted to have a wonderful marriage with a wealthy man to make her ex-boyfriend jealous.”

“Okay, I don’t need to know that sort of detail, but—”

Aemond took the folded paper from your hand. “Are you single? Are you interested in marriage besides marrying to your own company? Does your family know that I’m single?” He looked at you in disbelief and said, “I’m surprised you have thought of particular questions you asked on the spot despite the opposing questions your friend makes.”

“It’s a job interview. It’s meant to be taken seriously.”

“And you did well, Miss (Y/N). Therefore, I wished to know more about you.” His back leaned in on a large chair frame, as he tossed the folded paper on a small coffee table. “What are you studying right now?”

“I major in history and art.”

“What are your favorite things to do on your spare time?”

“I like to go to the gym. Go to Starbucks and drink coffee. Sometimes I make coffee at home, and then…I sometimes read and watch a lot of shows…”

“What kind of shows?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“So it’s romance?”

“Yes, but a different kind of romance…” you stated, awkward.

Aemond titled his head again.

You shifted in your seat.

“It’s a…um….”

He chuckled. “I never meant to put you on a spot, Miss (L/N), I apologize. So what are your plans regarding to work?”

“I’m studying at the moment for my finals.”

Aemond uncrossed his legs, his back leaned forward, gazing to your eyes. “I would like for you to be as my secretary.”

Your lips parted.

“There’s an internship that I’m offering at the current moment. More benefits for my staff and PTO.”

You leaned back and thought of the offer, but Aemond stopped you.

“What sort of books are you into, Miss (Y/N)? If I were to guess, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte or Tom Hardy, which author do you prefer?”

“I prefer Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky.”

Aemond folded his hands together. “Sad and poetic?”

“It’s the closest thing to reality. I don’t mind Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte or Tom Hardy. Although Tom Hardy’s stories are also considered as tragic. But..reading modern romance novels isn’t so bad. But I found myself more addictive to coffee, fashionable clothes and beauty products more now.”

You found yourself smiling at that. The sharp gasp filled in your throat when Aemond’s hand reached you, and tugged the band wrapped around your hair, loosening it, and combed the silk, lustrous strands through his fingertips, staring at you.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

You nearly pinched yourself before the secretary entered. “There’s a meeting in the conference room. Another company has requested for your presence.”

Aemond retrieved his hand on time. “I’ll be there soon.”

The door closed as you said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” And a heavy thud clashed onto the ground. It was a gift. For him.

“For you,” you said, handing the gift over.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate.”

Aemond chuckled shortly. “I don’t eat sweets, Miss (L/N).”

As you got up from the seat, Aemond’s hand grasp for your wrist, making your head turn to meet his beautiful eyes. “Think about my offer,” he said, along that, he handed you his card by tucking the card in on one of your back pocket of your skirt, lingering on feeling your round ass than how someone touched you.

With that, you bowed and left his spacious offer, leaving him with wonder and amazement.

He ripped out the ribbon and wrap, revealing it to be compliments for him. Chocolates—as you claimed—and framed translucent glass with a green ink dragon inside.

He ripped one of the pieces from the chocolate box and ate one. Sweet, like yours. He wondered what you would feel and taste like.

Aemond found himself a new toy to play with. Another bite of the caramelized chocolate, with finding himself in an entrance with you, he has his sights on you. And thus dialing the phone number on his smartphone.

“Sir?” a voice said on the other side of the phone call.

“Hello. I have a task for you. You won’t fail me.”

One taste of you, and he won’t ever plan on letting you go.

~~~

Heavy door slammed shut and met up with your friend again.

“Sooo…how’s your meeting with him? What’s he like?”

“He’s…nice?”

“Nice? Saying the word ‘nice’ is automatically a code for friend zone.”

“No, I mean, he, he’s intimidating, and yet he’s able to answer my questions.”

“You mean my questions?”

You handed over your notebook to your friend on your original questions. “Wow, even I can’t ask a question like that.”

“Aemond found out that I stepped in for the interview instead of you.”

“How can you tell?”

“He met your father last week. And he already knows what you look like.”

“I never even knew him personally.”

“And he overheard you on how you wanted to marry a rich to make your ex jealous. That’s not something to easily slip by. Aemond has sharp ears and tongue.”

“Ugh, he caught me.”

“And yet those questions you wanted to ask him is simply more than an interview because why?”

“Because no one knows about him personally.”

“Yeah, but on a matter of a serious spectrum, not a flirtation. Do you even find him attractive, or do you want to set up with his siblings?”

“Ew, no, I don’t find Aemond handsome, but his other brothers do. Or his uncle.” Your friend looked over your interview questions. “Looks like he’s impressed by you.”

“He is.”

“So is he asking you out on a date?”

“No he asked me to be as his secretary.”

Your friend gasped. “No!”

“Yes, he is. He mentioned about the internship, and..”

“Are you going to take it?”

“I haven’t thought about it that much. I’m still studying for the finals.”

Your friend made a casual dismissive wave. “You’ll do great in the company and you get to see his gorgeous face everyday.”

“I thought you said he’s not your type.”

“He’s not. I like his uncle more. Older guys are my thing.”

“Right. Because older men knows how to take care because of their experience.”

“Exactly! I think you and Aemond are going to get along so well! Who knows you’ll get benefits. Even from him.” She winked and took the rest of the coffee.

“Hey!”

“Thanks for the coffee!” And the bedroom door slammed shut, leaving you happy about today’s outcome.

Clapped your hands together, you said aloud to yourself, “Alright! Time for me to take a shower, get dressed and watch some drama on Netflix.” And cheered your way into the bathroom. “By the way,” you called your friend out, shouting, “I didn’t get to tape-record him!”

“WHHHAAAAAATTTTT?!” is what your frantic friend responded.

~~~

Unbeknownst to you, while you’re undressed and soaked in the shower, Aemond’s pants unzipped, his hand caressed his large cock, pressed it harder as you scrubbed your legs and backside.

Delicious.

The bulge in his pants was ready to spring during the interview with you.

Thanks to the card he handed over by tucking it into your back pocket, he felt how good your ass looks. How your ponytail given him an impression that you’re a good girl on the outside but a bad girl was somewhere hiding, dying to get out.

Stroking his hard cock faster, moaning aloud—strained—as he watched you rinsed the soap from your body and stepped out of the shower with your tits bounced, remembering the perfume scent as Aemond went close to you. How he’ll perform his fantasies with you. Envisioned you, right next to a knife, he’ll play with blood trickling down on your skin alongside of bruises on your wrists on handcuffs.

It was beautiful.

Divine.

Cum spritz out, flying and plopping over his thighs, leaving him with a heavy huff and lustful gaze glueing to your naked body, drying up from a steamed shower.

She’ll be mine.

Taglist: @kittendoll05 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @heavenly1927 @snh96 @httpsmenace @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @liannafae @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @jolixtreesunn @screaming-potato @dixie-elocin @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @blackgaladriel @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @fun-loving-peach @jmliebert @ilikechocolatemilkh @20thcentwriter @sepherinaspoppies @venmondiese @snowprincesa1 @witchy-v1xen @1800-fight-me @fan-goddess @persephonerinyes @anukulee @galactict3a @maxshortformaxine @lcolumbia1988 @ilikemintpeassss-blog @arcielee @hippiedippiekitty @bellaisasleep @lokiofasgard12 @barnes70stark @vipervixxen @f1girlieee @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9

[elryuse]

Yandere Chaebol Irene x Single dad

Dangerous Choices

Yandere Chaebol Irene X Single Dad Male Reader

The warmth of You-mi’s laughter filled the small apartment as you watched her chase a toy car across the floor. Despite the struggles of being a single dad, moments like these made it all worthwhile. It had been nearly a year since your wife passed away, leaving you to balance grief with the responsibility of raising a bright, energetic four-year-old. The bills were piling up, and your part-time job wasn’t enough anymore. You needed something stable, something that could provide a better future for your daughter.

“Daddy, look!” You-mi beamed, holding up the toy car as though it were a trophy. “It’s so fast!”

You forced a smile. “It sure is, sweetheart. But guess what? Daddy’s got an interview today.”

Her face lit up. “Does that mean we can get ice cream after?”

“If I get the job, we’ll get all the ice cream you want,” you promised, ruffling her hair.

You left the apartment with her laughter echoing in your ears, carrying that small spark of hope with you.

The company building was massive, with glass panels that reflected the morning sun and an air of intimidating sophistication. You adjusted your tie nervously, trying to calm your racing heart. Inside, the receptionist directed you to the top floor for your interview.

When you entered the room, she was there.

Sitting behind an immaculate glass desk was the most striking woman you’d ever seen. Her features were delicate yet sharp, her long black hair cascading like silk. Her tailored suit hugged her figure perfectly, exuding both elegance and authority. Her gaze was cold, analytical, as if she could see through every layer of your soul.

“Take a seat,” she said, her voice smooth but devoid of warmth.

You sat down, feeling like you were being scrutinized under a microscope.

“Your resume is... underwhelming,” she began, her tone curt. “What makes you think you’re qualified for this position?”

You swallowed hard, taken aback by her bluntness. “I may not have the best resume, but I’ve always worked hard and learned quickly. I’m not afraid to face challenges, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to succeed.”

Her lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. “And why do you need this job so badly?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering, your voice softening. “I have a daughter. She’s four. Her name is You-mi. I want to give her the life she deserves.”

For a moment, her icy demeanor faltered. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps? But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“And what if I said I’m not interested in hiring someone who needs to be home by 6 PM every day?” she challenged, leaning forward slightly.

“Then I’d say I’ll find a way to make it work,” you replied, meeting her gaze despite the knot in your stomach. “I’m not looking for excuses. I’m looking for an opportunity.”

Her expression softened just enough to make you wonder if you’d imagined it. Then, she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.

“Impressive answer,” she said, almost begrudgingly. “Most people would crumble under pressure. You didn’t.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Later that evening, as you sat with You-mi over dinner, your phone buzzed. You unlocked it to see an email notification.

“Congratulations,” it read. “You have been selected for the position. Report to the office on Monday.”

Your heart soared.

“Did you get the job, Daddy?” You-mi asked, her eyes wide with hope.

You grinned. “Yes, sweetheart. I got the job.”

She squealed with delight, throwing her tiny arms around you. You hugged her tightly, your heart brimming with gratitude.

Unbeknownst to you, Irene was still sitting in her office, staring at your resume with an unusual intensity.

“Y/n,” she murmured, tracing the letters of your name on the paper with her perfectly manicured nail. A faint smile played on her lips—one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret working here,” she whispered, her voice laced with an unsettling undertone.

Your first day at the company was a mix of nerves and determination. The office was bright and modern, with a buzz of quiet efficiency. To your surprise, the tasks assigned to you were manageable. You quickly fell into a rhythm, organizing reports, coordinating schedules, and handling the finer details Irene demanded.

By the end of the first week, your manager praised your work ethic, and even Irene, who rarely spoke outside of giving instructions, offered a curt “Good job” during a brief encounter in the hallway. Her words, though simple, carried a weight that left you feeling proud.

Months turned into years, and your role within the company became second nature. Irene was no longer just the intimidating figure behind the glass desk. Over time, she showed glimpses of a softer side—never openly affectionate, but her actions spoke volumes.

She often noticed your exhaustion before you did, offering quiet words of encouragement or granting you time off to care for You-mi. On You-mi’s birthdays, she would send beautifully wrapped gifts: a dollhouse one year, a sketchbook and art supplies another.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told her once, overwhelmed by her generosity.

“I know,” she replied coolly, her eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper. “But I want to.”

You didn’t know what to make of her. The more you got to know her, the more she seemed like an enigma.

One evening, while tucking You-mi into bed, she looked up at you with her big, curious eyes.

“Daddy, are you going to get married again?” she asked innocently.

The question caught you off guard. “Why do you ask that, sweetheart?”

“Well…” she said, twirling a strand of her hair. “Miss Irene is so nice. She always asks about me, and she smiles a lot when she talks to you. Do you like her?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Irene’s my boss. It’s not like that.”

“But you like her,” she teased, giggling as you stammered.

“She’s... kind, and she’s helped us a lot. But that doesn’t mean—”

“You’re blushing!” You-mi interrupted, bursting into laughter.

You sighed, covering your face with your hands. “Go to sleep, troublemaker.”

But as she drifted off, her words lingered. Did you like Irene?

The next morning, you found yourself standing outside Irene’s office with a coffee cup in hand. It had become a routine to bring her coffee whenever you passed the café on your way in. She always accepted it with a polite nod, and today was no different.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the cup.

You were about to leave when she stopped you. “Wait.”

You turned back. “Yes, Miss Irene?”

She gestured to the chair across from her desk. “Sit.”

Her tone left no room for argument, so you complied, feeling slightly uneasy.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, her gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve been working here for nearly three years now. Your performance has exceeded expectations, and your dedication is admirable.”

“Thank you,” you said, unsure of where this was going.

She leaned forward slightly, her fingers steepled. “But I can’t help but wonder—how do you balance it all? Your work, your daughter... your life outside this office?”

You hesitated. “It’s not easy, but I manage. And a lot of that is thanks to your support.”

Her eyes softened, the coldness melting away just a fraction. “You’re too modest.”

There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter this time.

“Y/n... do you ever think about the future? About what you want for yourself and your daughter?”

The question caught you off guard. “Of course I do. I want to give her the best life I can.”

“And what about your happiness?” she pressed.

“I—” You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I guess I haven’t thought much about that.”

Irene’s gaze lingered on you, her expression unreadable. “Perhaps you should.”

Her words stayed with you long after you left her office, planting seeds of confusion and curiosity in your mind.

The soft glow of the apartment greeted you as you opened the door, expecting the usual quiet hum of your small home. Instead, laughter echoed from the living room. You froze in the doorway, astonished at the sight before you: Irene, dressed casually in a cream blouse and jeans, was sitting on the floor with You-mi. They were both laughing as they pieced together a jigsaw puzzle.

“Daddy!” You-mi exclaimed, spotting you first. She bounded over, her eyes sparkling. “Miss Irene is here! She brought me a princess dress and so many toys!”

Your gaze shifted to Irene, who stood up gracefully and smiled at you. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to check on You-mi, and she was kind enough to let me in.”

You shook your head, still processing. “No, of course not. I’m just... surprised. I didn’t expect you to come by.”

“I thought I’d bring some food as well,” she said, gesturing to the dining table, now laden with dishes far too elaborate for your modest kitchen. “You’ve been working hard, and I figured you deserved a proper meal.”

You-mi tugged at your hand. “Daddy, you have to try it! Miss Irene made the best roast chicken ever!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of You-mi’s excitement and Irene’s unexpected warmth. “Thank you, Irene. This is... more than I could ever ask for.”

Dinner was unlike any meal you’d had in years. Irene had prepared a roast chicken, golden and crispy, surrounded by an array of side dishes—mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and even a fresh salad. The three of you sat at the small dining table, sharing stories and laughter as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really good at cooking,” you said, unable to hide your admiration.

“It’s a hobby,” Irene admitted, a hint of pride in her voice. “I find it relaxing.”

As the evening wore on, Irene and You-mi’s bond only deepened. She listened intently to your daughter’s stories, even indulging her requests for silly games. By the time dinner was over, You-mi was yawning, her energy finally running out.

“Let me,” Irene offered, standing as You-mi clung to her arm.

You watched in amazement as Irene guided your daughter to her room, her gentle demeanor making You-mi feel safe and loved. Irene’s laughter and soothing voice drifted down the hall as she tucked her in, leaving you in a state of disbelief.

When Irene returned, she closed the door softly behind her, a content smile on her face. “She’s a wonderful child. You’ve raised her well.”

You stood, unsure of what to say. “Thank you. She’s everything to me.”

Irene walked over, her heels clicking softly against the floor until she stood in front of you. Slowly, she reached out and took your hand in hers, her touch surprisingly warm.

“You know,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I’ve always wanted to have a daughter.”

Her words caught you off guard. “You have?”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with vulnerability. “But I can’t. I’m infertile. It’s something I’ve come to accept, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Your heart ached for her as you saw the faint crack in her otherwise perfect façade. “I’m so sorry, Irene. That must be so hard.”

She squeezed your hand gently. “It is. But spending time with You-mi... it feels like I’m getting a glimpse of something I thought I’d never have. Thank you for letting me be part of her life, even if just for a moment.”

There was a long pause as the two of you stood there, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, Irene broke the silence.

“Will you come to my place tomorrow? Bring You-mi,” she said softly. “I’d like to share something with you. Maybe... she can even stay the night. I’d love to spend more time with her.”

You hesitated for a moment, but You-mi’s fondness for Irene and the kindness she’d shown made the decision easier. “Okay. We’ll come by tomorrow.”

Irene’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Y/n. Truly.”

As she left your apartment that night, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something in your life was beginning to change. For the first time in years, the future didn’t feel so lonely.

The grandeur of Irene’s penthouse was unlike anything you’d ever seen. The polished marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and breathtaking views of the city skyline made it feel like stepping into a dream.

“Wow, Daddy! Look at this place!” You-mi exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. She ran from room to room, her laughter echoing through the spacious halls.

You chuckled, watching her excitement, but your attention was soon drawn to Irene, who stood by the doorway, smiling warmly.

“She’s full of energy,” Irene said softly, her eyes following You-mi as the little girl ran toward her.

“Irene!” You-mi called out, launching herself into her arms.

Irene caught her effortlessly, hugging her tightly and stroking her hair with a tenderness that caught you off guard.

“Did you like the place?” Irene asked, her voice gentle.

“It’s amazing!” You-mi replied, giggling as Irene twirled her around.

You stood silently, watching the two of them interact. The sight of Irene’s loving smile and the way she held your daughter made your heart swell.

After showing You-mi to one of the guest rooms, Irene took you on a tour of the penthouse. The place was massive, complete with a private gym, an indoor pool, and even a lush garden on the balcony.

When You-mi saw the pool, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Daddy, can I swim? Please?”

You glanced at Irene, hesitant. “Is it okay?”

“Of course,” Irene said with a nod, her voice as warm as her smile.

Before you could say another word, You-mi had already dashed off to change into the swimsuit Irene had thoughtfully provided. Moments later, she was splashing happily in the pool, her laughter filling the air.

Irene placed a gentle hand on your arm, pulling your attention back to her. “Come with me,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

She led you to a wine cellar tucked away behind a sleek glass door. The room was dimly lit, with rows of fine wines lining the walls. Irene picked a bottle with practiced ease, explaining it was one of her favorites, before guiding you to a cozy seating area.

You sat across from her as she poured two glasses of deep red wine, her movements graceful and deliberate. She handed you a glass, her gaze lingering on yours.

“To new beginnings,” she said, raising her glass.

“To new beginnings,” you echoed, clinking glasses.

As you sipped the wine, Irene leaned back, her expression softening into something almost vulnerable. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

You froze, the glass halfway to your lips. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass. “I’ve thought about this for a long time. About us. About You-mi. The truth is, I want to be a part of your life. Fully.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Irene, I—”

“I want to marry you,” she said, cutting you off, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “I want to be with you and You-mi. To build a family together.”

You stared at her, stunned. The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, and before you realized it, you choked on the wine in your mouth.

Coughing, you grabbed a napkin to clean yourself, but Irene was already by your side, dabbing at your shirt with her own napkin.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your cheeks burning.

Irene chuckled softly, her eyes glimmering with amusement and affection. “You don’t have to answer right away,” she said, her tone reassuring. “I just needed you to know how I feel.”

She paused, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your heart race. “You and You-mi have brought something into my life that I didn’t even know I was missing. I love her. I love you. And I want to be with both of you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. You couldn’t deny the way your heart softened at her confession.

In that moment, You-mi’s laughter from the pool echoed in the background, a reminder of the happiness Irene had already brought into your lives.

Your life at work had been smooth and steady—until Veronica joined the office. Fresh-faced and shy, she seemed out of place among the bustling professionals. Your manager had approached you one morning, handing you a folder with her profile.

“She’s new, and she’s nervous,” he said. “I trust you’ll guide her well.”

You accepted the task willingly, seeing it as an opportunity to help someone the way others had helped you when you first started. Veronica, with her quiet demeanor and hesitant smiles, quickly warmed up to you.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said one evening as you stayed late to explain a project to her.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied. “We’ve all been there.”

What began as professional guidance turned into a budding friendship. Veronica shared bits of her life—how she’d grown up in a small town, how she’d always dreamed of working in the city but found it overwhelming. Over time, she even became fond of You-mi, often stopping by your apartment with small gifts or snacks.

“It’s nice to have people around,” she confessed one evening while helping You-mi color a picture. “I’ve been alone for so long. This feels... comforting.”

But Irene wasn’t pleased.

At first, her discontent was subtle. She would glance at you coldly when she passed by your desk or curtly dismiss you in meetings. You chalked it up to stress—after all, she had a company to run.

Then things escalated.

Your manager was abruptly demoted, a punishment Irene handed down with no explanation. Rumors flew through the office, whispers of how Irene’s wrath was swift and merciless. You began to notice how she scrutinized you more closely, her sharp eyes narrowing whenever you spoke to Veronica.

One morning, as you were preparing a report, Irene stormed into your office, her expression icy.

“Why isn’t this finished?” she snapped, pointing at your desk.

“It’s due tomorrow,” you said, confused.

“Don’t make excuses,” she hissed, her voice low but venomous. “Do you think I’m blind to how you’re spending your time?”

Her words stung, but you bit your tongue. Later, in a meeting, she openly mocked you.

“Not everyone can handle responsibility,” she said, looking directly at you as the room fell silent. “But I suppose that’s expected from someone who can’t even manage his own household properly.”

The humiliation was unbearable.

At home, You-mi noticed your mood.

“Daddy, are you okay?” she asked, hugging your leg.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” you lied, ruffling her hair.

But you weren’t fine. Irene’s sudden cruelty left you bewildered. You couldn’t understand how the warm, caring woman you’d grown close to had become so cold.

One evening, you decided to confront her.

“Irene,” you said, stepping into her office after hours.

She didn’t look up from her laptop. “What do you want?”

“Why are you treating me like this?” you asked, frustration evident in your tone. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Finally, she met your gaze, her eyes icy and unreadable. “You know exactly what you did.”

“No, I don’t,” you said, exasperated. “If this is about Veronica—”

“Don’t say her name!” Irene snapped, slamming her laptop shut. “Do you think I don’t see how close you’ve gotten? How she’s wormed her way into your life, into your home?”

“She’s just a colleague,” you said, trying to stay calm. “She doesn’t mean anything to me like that.”

“Doesn’t she?” Irene said bitterly. “You let her into your life, into our lives. Do you think I’d stand by and let someone take you away from me?”

Her words sent a chill down your spine.

“Irene, you’re overreacting—”

“Am I?” she interrupted, stepping closer. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you? How much I’ve sacrificed to be with you and You-mi? And now you bring her into the picture?”

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath her anger.

“I just want to protect what’s mine,” she said softly, her eyes glinting with something dark.

The days that followed were a nightmare. Irene’s possessiveness only grew, her obsession suffocating. She controlled every aspect of your work life, assigning you impossible tasks and berating you for minor errors. At home, you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder, fearing what might come next.

And yet, despite everything, part of you still remembered the woman who had brought joy to your life, who had cared for You-mi as if she were her own.

But now, that woman seemed like a distant memory.

The phone call from Veronica came late into the night. Her voice trembled with fear.

"Y/n, something’s wrong. You-mi is missing," she whispered, her panic barely contained.

“What?” you exclaimed, nearly dropping the phone. “What do you mean, missing?”

“I went to check on her after dinner, and she wasn’t in her room. The door was open, and the place—” Veronica paused, choking on her words. “You need to come home. Now.”

You didn’t waste a second. Driving back felt like an eternity, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When you finally arrived, the sight of your wrecked apartment made your blood run cold.

Furniture was overturned, shattered glass littered the floor, and You-mi’s toys were scattered everywhere. It was as if a storm had torn through the place. And then you saw it: a piece of paper pinned to the wall, the words scrawled in an elegant yet chilling handwriting.

“You know where to find her. -Irene-”

Your heart sank. You grabbed the note, crumpling it in your fist. There was no time to waste. You knew exactly where she’d taken You-mi.

The elevator ride to Irene’s penthouse felt agonizingly slow. When the doors finally opened, you stepped into the lavish space that once felt inviting but now reeked of menace.

“Irene!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the penthouse. “Where’s You-mi?”

You heard faint whimpers coming from one of the rooms. Following the sound, you found Irene in the lounge, standing over a trembling You-mi who sat curled up on the couch. Irene’s once-beautiful face was twisted with madness, her eyes wild and unrecognizable.

“You’re here,” Irene said, her voice eerily calm. “I was just having a little chat with our daughter.”

“She’s not your daughter,” you snapped, stepping between her and You-mi. “What are you doing, Irene? This isn’t you!”

“She could be,” Irene said, ignoring your plea. She crouched down to You-mi’s level, her tone unnervingly sweet. “Don’t you want me to be your mommy, sweetheart? I can give you everything. A beautiful home, toys, anything you want.”

You-mi shook her head, her small frame trembling. “I want my real mommy,” she said in a tiny voice.

The rejection made Irene’s composure crack. Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression of pure fury. She stood abruptly, glaring at You-mi.

“Do you know what I’ve done for you? For your father?” she spat, her voice rising. “I’ve given everything, and this is how you repay me?”

“Irene, stop!” you shouted, stepping in front of You-mi.

But Irene was beyond reason. She laughed—a hollow, chilling sound—and began pacing the room. “You think you can just replace me with her?” she sneered, her eyes narrowing. “Veronica. She’s the problem, isn’t she?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice laced with desperation.

Irene stopped pacing and fixed her gaze on you, her expression dark. “It’s simple,” she said, her tone deadly calm. “You have a choice to make. Either you save Veronica...”

She pointed to a door at the far end of the room.

“Or you save You-mi.”

Your blood turned to ice. “What have you done?”

Irene smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Veronica’s here, too. I’ve given her... a little head start. She’s in the basement. If you leave now, you might just make it in time. But if you go after her, you leave You-mi alone with me. Forever.”

You-mi clung to your leg, crying. “Daddy, don’t leave me,” she sobbed.

You knelt down, holding her tightly. “I won’t, sweetheart. I promise.”

Irene watched the scene with a twisted sense of satisfaction. “Tick-tock,” she said, tapping an invisible watch on her wrist. “What’s it going to be, Y/n? The woman who’s wormed her way into your life? Or your precious daughter?”

The room felt suffocating, the weight of Irene’s ultimatum crushing your very soul. You looked at You-mi, her tear-streaked face buried in your chest, and then at Irene, whose maniacal grin only deepened the longer you hesitated.

Time was running out, and you knew that no matter what you chose, someone would suffer.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. And then you made your decision.

“I’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Irene’s smile faltered for a moment. “What did you say?”

You stood, gently prying You-mi off you and placing her behind you protectively. Meeting Irene’s eyes, you spoke with a trembling resolve. “I’ll give myself to you, Irene. My body, my blood, my soul—everything. Just let Veronica go and leave You-mi out of this.”

A stunned silence filled the room. Irene’s expression softened, her lips parting in disbelief.

“You mean it?” she whispered, stepping closer, her manic energy shifting into something almost tender. “You’ll be mine? Completely?”

You swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. But only if you let Veronica go and promise never to hurt You-mi again.”

Irene tilted her head, studying you with a calculating gaze. “You’re serious,” she said, almost to herself. Then, with a sly smile, she nodded. “Fine. You have my word.”

“Irene—”

Before you could say more, she raised a hand, silencing you. “I said I agree. But I want proof.”

“Proof?”

Irene stepped closer, her fingers brushing your cheek. “Kiss me,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding.

Your stomach churned, but you knew there was no other way. Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your lips against hers. The kiss was long and possessive, Irene pouring all her obsession and desire into it. When she finally pulled away, her eyes gleamed with triumph.

“There,” she said softly. “Now I know you’re mine.”

Irene turned to You-mi, who was still trembling behind you. For a moment, you feared she might lash out again, but instead, she crouched to meet You-mi’s gaze.

“You’re safe now, little one,” Irene said, her tone unnervingly gentle. “Daddy and I will take care of everything.”

You-mi clung to your leg, refusing to respond.

“I’ll call my men,” Irene continued, rising to her full height. “Veronica will be released, unharmed. Consider it a show of good faith.”

“Thank you,” you said cautiously, watching her every move.

Irene smirked. “Oh, don’t thank me yet, darling. You belong to me now. You’ll see what that means soon enough.”

That night, Irene’s men escorted you and You-mi home, leaving you in the wreckage of your apartment. True to her word, Veronica called shortly after, her voice filled with relief and confusion.

“They let me go,” she said. “Y/n, what’s going on? Why did they take me?”

“I can’t explain right now,” you said, your voice hollow. “But you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

Veronica hesitated. “Are you safe?”

You glanced at You-mi, who was curled up on the couch, clutching her favorite stuffed animal. “I will be,” you lied.

Hanging up, you sat beside You-mi, stroking her hair as she drifted off to sleep. Your mind raced with what you had done. You had sold your soul to Irene, binding yourself to her darkness to protect the people you loved.

But as much as you hated her, part of you couldn’t deny the strange pull she had over you. Irene wasn’t just a monster—she was a broken woman, consumed by her obsession. And now, you were trapped in her web, with no way out.

As the night stretched on, you stared out the window, wondering what the future would hold.

For better or worse, you belonged to Irene now.

Years passed like fleeting moments, blurring into a haze of quiet chaos and bittersweet milestones. You-mi was now a high school student, blossoming into a bright and ambitious young woman. Seeing her smile and thrive brought you immeasurable joy, even as your life remained entangled in the suffocating grip of Irene’s obsession.

You stood by the front door of your lavish mansion, watching You-mi tie her shoelaces before heading off to school. She had grown so much—her features now a blend of the girl she once was and the confident young woman she was becoming.

“Dad,” she said, looking up at you with a warm smile. “Stop fussing. I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, chuckling softly. “You’re my little girl.”

“Not so little anymore,” she teased, adjusting her backpack. “By the way, tell Irene I said thanks for the new laptop. I know she means well, even if she’s... intense.”

You nodded, the familiar knot in your chest tightening. “I will. Be safe, okay?”

“Always,” she said, giving you a quick hug before stepping out the door.

You returned to the living room, where Irene sat on the couch, cradling one of the twins. Jessica was dozing peacefully in her arms, while Jennifer played with blocks on the carpet.

Irene glanced up at you, her sharp features softening for a moment. “She’s growing up too fast,” she said, her voice unusually tender.

“She is,” you agreed, sitting beside her. “But she’s happy. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Irene smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from Jessica’s face. The years had changed her, too. After undergoing a groundbreaking operation to address her infertility, she had given birth to your twin daughters. It was a moment she had dreamed of for years, and while it added another layer to your complex relationship, you couldn’t deny the love you felt for Jennifer and Jessica.

They were innocent in all of this, and you vowed to give them the same happiness and stability you had fought so hard to provide for You-mi.

“Irene,” you said, your tone cautious, “do you ever think about how we got here?”

She looked at you, her expression unreadable. “Every day,” she said simply. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Her honesty, as always, was disarming. Irene’s possessiveness hadn’t diminished over the years, but she had learned to temper it in small ways. She still kept a close eye on you, her jealousy bubbling just beneath the surface, but she no longer lashed out as violently as she once had. Perhaps the birth of your children had softened her—or maybe she had simply realized she didn’t need to fight anymore.

You were hers. You always had been.

As night fell, you stood by the twins’ cribs, watching them sleep. Jennifer clutched a stuffed bear, while Jessica sucked her thumb. They looked so peaceful, so untouched by the darkness that had once engulfed your life.

Irene appeared beside you, slipping her hand into yours. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?” she whispered.

“They are,” you said, squeezing her hand lightly.

For all the pain and turmoil, you couldn’t deny the happiness you felt in moments like this. Your life was far from normal, far from ideal, but it was yours. You had found a way to survive, to adapt, and to find joy in the midst of Irene’s suffocating love.

As you stood there, watching over your daughters, you couldn’t help but think of You-mi’s bright future. No matter what happened, you had given her a chance to thrive—a chance to break free from the shadows of your past.

And that, at least, made all the sacrifices worth it.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Not Allowed

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky

Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?

Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.

You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”

“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”

“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”

Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.

“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.

“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”

“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”

He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.

“I know. How was your weekend?”

“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.

“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”

“You know what alcohol does to me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”

“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.

“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”

“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”

“You might get fired.”

“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”

He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.

Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.

After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.

“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.

“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.

You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.

“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.

You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.

“What are you doing? You scared me!”

“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”

“I--”

You don’t have any words for that.

“When are you two gonna fuck?”

“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.

“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.

It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.

“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”

“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”

“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”

“Your name?”

“Brandon Farley.”

“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”

“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, but--”

“Great. Can I take you out?”

“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”

There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.

“Yes.”

“Here’s my number.”

He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.

“I have sticky notes!”

“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”

“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”

“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.

You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.

“Did I hear that right?”

“What?”

“You have a date?”

“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”

“Nothing. No reason.”

Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.

This time, he didn’t.

The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.

“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, what did I do?”

“You accepted a date from someone else.”

You knew it. Why is he bigging out?

“So?”

“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”

“No, he’s just being friendly.”

“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.

The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.

“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”

You shouldn’t have asked him that.

“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”

Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.

“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”

No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.

About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.

This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

“No.”

Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.

“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”

“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”

“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.

“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”

“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”

“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”

Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.

“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.

“Thank you. I’ll call you.”

You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”

“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.

“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.

“No, you weren't,” he laughs.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”

“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”

That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.

“You’re not allowed to see other men.”

“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”

Yes, you will.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 4

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

This chapter is a bit longer so I hope you all like it. I'll admit did write a lot of this while I was at work lol

Chapter 4

“Sorry you had to wait for so long in our office during the meeting.” Changbin apologizes again as they sit in the waiting area of the doctors office. 

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind.” She smiles at him while she’s filling out the paperwork given to her by the receptionist. 

Chan can’t help but to glance down at it as she writes the answers to each of the medical questions. 

The normal of her date of birth, which he now knows she’s younger than Jeongin by a few months. When she presented which was when she was seventeen, a late presenter, not unheard of but uncommon. Any medical surgeries, she had her tonsils taken out as an infant. 

He feels guilty for looking at her answers for the female section but he reassures himself that it’s because he wants to know if she’ll need anything while she’s with them. Her last menstrual cycle having been the week prior so he won’t have to worry about making sure she has those products. That would have been an embarrassing call to Hannah for help with that. 

When she gets to the omega portion he frowns as she hesitates with the answers. Her last heat cycle… was when she presented? Chan knows that omegas have two heats a year at first starting out, a few years after presenting it becomes three. He thought that maybe he’d have to worry about her having not made it to that third one a year yet with her having presented late, but he wasn’t expecting for her to not have had a heat in six years. 

“Y/n L/n.” An omega nurse calls for the girl before approaching the three. “Dr. Hajoon is running a little behind so she wants me to go ahead and take you to get your blood drawn so that the lab work can be ready by the time she’s ready to see you.” 

“O-okay.” Y/n stands up obviously nervous and Chan and Changbin both stand too. 

“Sorry, there isn’t enough room for both of you to join, but we shouldn’t be too long. I’ll have her back out momentarily.” The nurse explains before starting to lead the way. 

Y/n hesitates but follows the nurse after Chan and Changbin both give her a reassuring nod that she’ll be okay. If it weren’t for the nurse being an omega the two alphas probably wouldn’t have let the girl go by herself. 

“Bin?” Chan speaks up after the omegas are out of sight behind the doors leading to the back. “Did you happen to look at the paperwork she was filling out?” 

Changbin frowns, giving his alpha a confused look. “No? Did you? You know that's an invasion of privacy right?” 

“I know.” Chan sighs, closing his eyes. “I just couldn’t help myself, wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything concerning, ya know?” 

“And is there?” 

Chan pauses for a moment before looking at Changbin. “She wrote down that her last heat was when she had first presented, about six years ago.” 

“What? How is that possible?” Changbin sits forward then looks confused when Chan pulls his phone out. “What are you doing?” 

“Texting Lix.” The older alpha brings up the betas contact as Changbin scoots over to see what is said. 

Channie Alpha♥️ Lixie baby, I need you to do Changbin and I a favor please. 

Lixie Baby🩵 Of course, anything 

Channie Alpha♥️ I need you to go into the room Y/n’s staying in. And look at her nest that you made for her.   

Lixie Baby🩵 Okay? 🤨

What about the nest? 

Channie Alpha♥️ Does it look any different from yesterday?

Lixie Baby🩵 It just looks slept in, why?

Channie Alpha♥️ It doesn’t look like she changed it at all? Everything's how you had placed it?

Lixie Baby🩵 No 🥺 everythings exactly how I had done it 

Channie Alpha♥️ Thank you baby, that’s all I needed

Lixie Baby🩵 Can I ask why you took her to see Dr. Hajoon? 

Channie Alpha♥️ You shouldn’t be stalking our location Lix. Minho just had some concerns he wanted us to get checked out is all. We’ll be home right after, I promise. Love you 

Lixie Baby🩵 Love you too 💕

“What does her not changing how Lix made her nest have anything to do with all of this?” Changbin finally asks after Chan puts his phone away. 

“When Lucas presented Felix had sent Olivia over to help him understand his omega tendencies.” Chan starts to explain. “The main thing they went over was nesting, it comes naturally to an omega but it’s different for everyone. She had said that the way she nests and the way Felix nests is completely different. So if an omega were to make a nest for another omega, the latter would still change it up a bit to make it more suitable for themselves. The only time it doesn’t happen is a communal nest because normally all of the omegas in the pack would build the nest together.”

“So Y/n’s omegas tendencies should have kicked in and she would have changed up the nest a bit to be more comfortable for her, but she didn’t.” Changbin repeats to make sure he’s understanding correctly as he doesn’t have any omega family members and Chan nods in confirmation. “So that and the lack of a heat for the last six years, how is that possible?” 

“The only thing I know that can cause someone to not have a heat is suppressants.” Chan hisses. “But it doesn’t suppress their other omega tendencies. And it’s only until you stop taking the suppressants…” 

“Meaning she never stopped taking them?” Changbin nods but then frowns.” Wait, I thought you guys said she didn’t have anything with her besides a car when you found her?”

“Yeah. She didn’t even have shoes. And I think I would have noticed if she grabbed a pill bottle at all.” Chan thinks back to the day before.

“Is she maybe not an omega?”

Chan gave Changbin an are you kidding me look. “Have you not smelled her? She’s an omega.” Then he thinks about what he overheard Minho and Jeongin say. “Though Min said he felt as though her scent isn’t fully there, which makes sense.” 

“Is it possible to not be a full omega?” Changbin pounders. “Like how Felix acts like one when he’s a beta. Could it be the opposite with her?” 

“I’m not sure.” Chan looks up as he smells Y/n walk back out into the waiting area, her uninjured arm taped from the blood draw. “But we’re gonna need to find out.” 

Y/n gives them as much of a convincing smile as she possibly can but they can tell from her scent that she didn’t have a pleasant experience. 

“You okay Y/nnie?” Changbin scoots away from Chan so she can sit back down between them.

“Yeah.” She nods and sits down. “Just don’t really like hospitals, especially being alone in one.”

“I’m sorry you had to go back there alone.” Chan places his hand on hers. “I promise we’ll be with you when Dr. Hajoon is ready to see you. She knows that we don’t like letting omegas go alone.”

She nods and takes comfort in knowing that they’ll be joining her in the examination room. 

After what felt like an hour but was more like fifteen minutes, a beta doctor with a clipboard of papers walks out and smiles at the three of them.

“Chris, Changbin.” The two stand and hug her before she turns and looks at Y/n. “And this must be the… omega… you told me about, Chris?”

“Yes, this is Y/n.” Chan smiles, placing a hand on the small of her back, all of them having taken notice of her hesitance to say her sub-gender. “Thank you so much for getting us in so quickly.”

“It’s no problem.” She turns back to Y/n once again. “It’s nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Dr. Hajoon. Let’s get you back to the examination room, I have your paperwork as well as the notes my nurse wrote down from getting your height and weight before you had your blood drawn. Are you okay with the alpha’s joining us?”

“Y-yeah.” The omega nods. “I would prefer that they do.”

“I had assumed so.” Hajoon nods and leads the three of them through the doors to the back. 

Once in the room Chan helps Y/n up on the examination table before sitting with Changbin in the seats and Hajoon grabs the stool while looking over the paperwork with a frown. 

“Alright, based on your paperwork I do have a few concerns but that is stuff that can wait until the end when we’re just discussing everything else and going over your blood work.” She starts off and sanitizes her hands before grabbing gloves. “I’m more worried about the wounds Chris told me about, can I take a look?”

Y/n rolls the sleeve up of the shirt she borrowed from Hannah’s closet to show the bruising on her wrist and the bandage on her upper arm. 

“Was it Minho who patched you up?” Hajoon smirks when the omega nods yes. “I figured, he’s the caretaker type.”

Changbin snorts. “Don’t let Min hear you say that.” 

The beta peels the bandage off her arm revealing more bruising and a deep gash. She inspects it, cleaning it a bit causing Y/n to hiss in pain a little. The two alphas shift in their seats wanting to protect the omega but knows the doctor is just doing what she needs. 

“Luckily it isn’t too deep. It looks like Minho did well in cleaning it but I’m seeing some early signs of infection, something he wouldn’t have been able to recognize.” Hajoon explains and rubs a topical ointment before bandaging it back up. “I’m gonna prescribe an ointment and antibiotics to take until it’s healed. As well as a bruise relief cream.” 

“Thank you.” Y/n whispers. 

“Chris had also mentioned bruising on your side and possible broken ribs?” 

“Yeah, that was Minho's main concern.” Chan speaks up again. “He wrapped her torso to help relieve any pain she may be in but we need to know if anything’s broken.” 

“Do you mind taking your shirt off?” The doctor asks and notices the girl's hesitancy. “If you want we can shut the curtain.” 

“It’s okay.” Y/n whispers and lifts up her shirt taking it off. 

Hajoon starts unwrapping her torso and it’s when she hears both Chan and Changbin growl that she knows the bruising is visible for all. She has the omega lay down on her back so she can feel her ribs for any breaks which causes the omega to hiss at some of the more sensitive bruising. 

“I don’t think you have any broken ribs.” The doctor explains. “Does it hurt at all to breathe?”

“No.” Y/n hisses again as the doctor touches another tinder spot. “But the prodding and poking does.” 

“Sorry.” The beta moves away from the table. “You can go ahead and put your shirt back on. But I do have to ask how these injuries happened?”

“I fell down a flight of stairs.” Y/n doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as she shrugs her shirt back okay.

“Hmm… before Chris and the betas found you, where were you living? Did you have a pack?”

“I was still living with my family pack.” This saddens Chan, thinking that her family might have done this to her.

“Another question I just have to ask as a part of my normal spiel. Do you feel safe?”

“Yeah.” The omega nods. “I do now at least.” 

Dr. Hajoon’s smartwatch goes off and she looks at it before turning to the computer in the room. “Your blood work came back so we can discuss the other concerns I have about your weight and lack of a heat.” 

Y/n glances at the two alphas to see their reactions but their expressions are neutral. 

The beta’s looks over the lab results and sighs before giving the omega a sad look.

“Did you know what it was?” Y/n gives a sad nod yes. “Did you get them done willingly?”

“My family forced me.” She mumbles playing with her hands.

“Forced what?” Chan cut’s in, sitting forward in the chair looking pissed.

Hajoon puts her hand up towards Chan as she continues looking at Y/n. “Besides your heats and scent, what else did it affect? And how often did you get them?”

“All of my omega tendencies.” She bows her head. “Every month since after my first heat.”

Chan grits his teeth not liking the sound of this conversation as he doesn’t fully know what's going on.

“Is it okay if I tell your alphas about it? That is if they promise not to lash out.” She eyes the two males until Y/n nods her head yes and waits for Chan and Changbin to also agree and once they do she sighs. 

“Her blood work came back positive for a suppressant injection. It isn’t like normal pill suppressants that can help postpone a heat, or a scent suppressor, it suppresses everything omega about her and even her appetite, why she’s underweight too. Why my nurse and I both were confused by her scent at first, we both smell a beta from her. These injections aren’t illegal but most refuse to practice with it because of the severity. It normally lasts up to thirty to forty days before needing another injection.”

“How do we smell her like an omega then?” Changbin speaks as Chan’s trying to keep calm. 

“The only way for anyone to smell a person's true sub-gender through a suppressant is if they are their fated mate.” Chan and Changbin’s jaws both drop. “You guys wouldn’t know you were fated mates though because of the suppressant, your alpha’s aren’t fully smelling her to tell you like normal. To you guys it seems as though her scent isn’t fully there.”

Chan and Chanbin both look at Y/n in awe now.

“So what do we need to do about the last injection she was given?” Chan leans forward and grabs Y/n’s hand to both help comfort her for what's about to be said and keep him from lashing out.

“Her blood work shows little traces of it, meaning it’s almost out of her system.” Hajoon looks back at the computer. “I would say in a few days her omega tendencies will start to return and she should restart her heat cycle. Though this first one will be a dry heat.”

“Dry heat?”

“A dry heat is when the body is not ready to reproduce or prepare for reproduction. Occurs when the omega is in a bad physical condition, mental state, or environment. When Omegas are in unsafe environments, examples; physical, mental, or emotional abuse, no pack bonds or mate, unfamiliar location, lots of stress or anxiety, which from what I can guess is a lot of what she’s been put through plus the suppressant, it’s bound to happen. It’s usually painful. Alters the body and shuts down all biological functions involved in reproduction and is not healthy but unavoidable this time. Dry heats can last anywhere from two to seven days. You guys will need to do a lot to help her during it. Take her to her nest or den. Do NOT leave her alone. Keep her hydrated, fed, and someone needs to maintain physical contact at all times. If the dry heat worsens, take her to the nearest hospital. Symptoms of it are haziness, cramps, separation anxiety, headaches, fearfulness, high emotions or extremely emotionless, distressed scent. I’ll have it all written down for you guys.”

“And… and what if I don’t have a dry heat, or any heat?” The omega fears.

“If you don’t go through one within a week, come back and we’ll try and figure out what's going on.” She reassures her as she types on the computer. “I’m sending in your prescriptions as well as setting you up with a therapist and psychologist. With what you’ve been through maybe we can get you on medication that can help with your mental health. They’re located in the same office as the two Jisung sees so I’ll see about getting you in at the same time as his so you both can just go together.”

“Thank you again for everything.” Chan stands up still holding the omega’s hand and helps her off the table.

“Anytime Chris, I’m always just a call away if you guys need anything.” She hands Changbin the papers with all the information they need. “Keep me updated.”

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[azzibuckets]

This is sort of a long and specific request but I just have this idea of an ansty fic idea for pazzi or reader.

azzi gets her wisdom teeth out and she’s like all loopy and when paige takes her home, they are all cuddled up. Azzi talks about the love of her life in third person and paige doesn’t realize it’s her until she does… but basically she’s like heartbroken until then.

loopy in love [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i know i said i was taking a break from pazzi fics but god bless anon for giving me the best prompt i’ve ever read

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | part 2

“Make sure she takes acetaminophen or ibuprofen if she feels any pain,” the nurse instructed. “She can also sleep with an extra pillow tonight to support her neck and help circulate blood flow.”

“Alright, thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind,” Paige said gratefully. She looked over at Azzi, who was slumped in the chair. Her eyes were dazed and her cheeks swollen with numbing from anesthesia, but Paige’s heart warmed. Azzi had never looked cuter, she thought.

“I understand you guys are basketball players?” The nurse looked up from her clipboard of sheets with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. How long is she out for?”

“No strenuous activities for at least three days, and definitely no cardio for five. We don’t want any rebound swelling or bleeding,” the nurse explained. “Other than that, you just need to sign her release form, and then you guys are good to go.”

Paige nodded, accepting the paper the nurse handed her and starting to work her way down the page. The nurse walked over to Azzi. “Make sure to keep biting on the gauze, okay hon? Your girlfriend can help you replace it with a fresh one every 20 minutes.”

Paige’s head snapped up from reading the fine print. “Oh, uh, we’re not dating.”

The nurse looked taken aback. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed…” she stared uncomfortably between the two of them. Paige flushed, knowing that the way they’d entered the office a few hours earlier hadn’t exactly looked very friendly. Paige’s hands had been wrapped around Azzi’s waist as she’d whispered reassurances in her ear.

“No, it’s okay.” Paige scratched the back of neck. “We kinda get that a lot.”

The nurse nodded awkwardly before hurriedly making an excuse to leave the room. Azzi wrinkled her nose, eyes following her out. “Did she think I had a girlfriend?” she slurred.

“She thought we were dating,” Paige breathed out a laugh as she signed the form.

“Ew!” Azzi gagged on her saliva. “I’m sorry, but we could never be together.”

“Geez,” Paige muttered, trying not to let the younger girl’s words sting too much. “I didn’t think I was that that revolting.” Paige turned the form into the receptionist before helping Azzi out of her chair. “Up we go,” she said softly. Azzi stumbled, but tightened her grip on the blonde’s arm to keep steady.

In the car, Azzi stared moodily out the window. Paige chuckled; she’d expected for the anesthesia to make Azzi more quiet and subdued, even though a part of her had wanted a loopy and crazy Azzi to laugh at. “You okay?” she asked.

Azzi started sniffling, and that’s when big tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“Woah.” Paige almost braked the car. “Hey, Az, what’s up?”

“I miss her!” Azzi cried out, folding her arms like a grumpy toddler. “Everything hurts and I can’t feel my tongue and there’s blood and I just want her.”

Paige’s heart sunk. She knew she should be supporting Azzi right now, who was so out of it from the drugs, but she couldn’t help but welcome back the burn of jealousy she’d gotten so familiar with the past few years. Pining over your best friend in secret was not an easy thing, but it was something Paige had become awfully good at.

“Miss who, babe?” Paige asked gently. “I can call whoever you need.”

Azzi dramatically threw her head in her hands. “Nooooo!” she wailed. “You can’t. Or else she’ll know.”

Paige bit her lip. “Know what?”

“That I’m in love with her!”

Paige sucked in a breath. Lately Azzi had been acting distant, coming back to their apartment late at night and making excuses for missing their movie nights. Paige had had a creeping suspicion that Azzi was talking to someone new, had been spending her hours with a new girl or guy she’d met. She’d tried to respect it - she knew Azzi would come to her and tell her if the relationship ever evolved into something serious. She always did. And now here Azzi was, confessing in her stupefied state.

“You’re in love with someone?”

Azzi leaned her head gloomily against the window. “You don’t understand, Paige.”

Paige hesitated. “I understand. I’ve been in love before.”

“No,” Azzi insisted. “You don’t. You don’t understand.”

Paige laid her hand over Azzi’s in an attempt to pacify her. “It’s okay, Az,” she soothed. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just get you home first, yeah?”

Azzi snatched her hand away. “Of course you don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, shifting in her seat to move further from Paige.

Once they reached their apartment, Azzi seemed to be in a slightly better mood. “I’m hungry!” she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind them, immediately making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Uh uh,” Paige denied, running so she could stand between Azzi and the cabinets. “You’re not allowed to eat anything for a few hours.”

Azzi pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “Pleaseeeeeee?” she whined.

Paige stifled a laugh at how adorable the younger girl was being. “I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly.

“Ugh!” Azzi aggressively brushed past Paige, knocking her shoulder as she stormed out of the kitchen. “You hate me.”

“Quite the opposite.” Paige followed Azzi as she flopped angrily down on the armchair. “Stay here, alright? Imma go get some pillows and blankets for you and we can watch a movie?”

Azzi didn’t respond, staring grumpily at the dark TV. Paige rushed to gather the softest and biggest blankets she could find. She cursed at herself for not setting up the couch earlier. Now Azzi had to sit there waiting for her. Once she got everything, she threw it on the couch and tried to make it the most comfortable, padded blanket and pillow ridden couch in the history of all couches. “Come on Azzi,” she encouraged in a sing song voice. “Sit on the couch. It’s super comfy.” She patted the couch.

“Will she be there?” Azzi asked hopefully.

“Be where?” Paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“On the couch. With me.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, trying to hold in her exasperation but failing mightily. “Are you talking about that girl again?”

“Yes,” Azzi breathed out dreamily. “I think she’s it. She’s the one for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Even before the surgery she was the last thing on my mind.”

Azzi sounded way too detailed right now to be talking randomly from being hopped up on drugs, which finally confirmed Paige’s suspicions. There had to be an actual girl that Azzi was talking about. She made a note to ask about it later, when the anesthesia wore off. Azzi had never spoken about anyone like this before, so this girl must be a big deal. A hot shot, Paige thought moodily to herself. But she’d support Azzi, like she always did whenever she started something new with someone. Don’t let her know, Paige reminded herself.

“So? Did you call her?” When Paige didn’t respond, too lost in her thoughts, Azzi’s bottom lip started to tremble. “You said you would!” Paige rushed to her, rubbing her back in the way she knew the dark haired girl liked.

“I don’t have her number, Az,” she said gently. “I’m sure we can get her to come over later, though.”

“She’s so pretty and she’s so kind,” Azzi said, now sobbing again. “I just want her here. Everything is always better when I’m with her.” She leaned into Paige’s embrace.

“Come on, Az, let’s sit on the couch, alright? Let’s put on a movie and you can try to sleep the anesthesia off,” Paige prodded. At last, Azzi got up from the armchair and sat reluctantly on the couch. Paige grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around the younger girl. She made sure to stuff extra pillows under Azzi’s neck. “Comfy?”

Azzi nodded. Her tears weren’t flowing as heavily anymore, which Paige took as a good sign. “What do you wanna watch?”

Azzi perked up. “Cinderella.”

“Cinderella? When did you get into Disney?” Paige laughed, but she put it on.

Azzi nestled into Paige’s chest. “Cinderella looks like her,” she sighed happily. “Which is why I like it.”

Paige’s heart started beating rapidly. “What does she look like?” she asked slowly.

“She’s blonde. Has the bluest eyes ever,” Azzi murmured. “And she’s sooo good at basketball. You would love her.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Was this really happening? There was no way this girl Azzi was speaking of was her. She felt excitement rush through her, but she tried to tamp it down. She wasn’t the only blonde, blue-eyed basketball player in the world. Feeling slightly guilty that she was interrogating her best friend in this state, she asked, “What’s her name, Azzi?”

Azzi inserted her leg between Paige’s so that their bodies were now intertwined. “Why does it matter?” she muttered, her words muffled by Paige’s shirt.

Paige softly traced the parts in Azzi’s hair with her finger. “I’m just curious, babe.”

Azzi yawned, sleepiness taking over her. “I can tell you later. If you want. Maybe.”

“Oh, we are so talking about this later,” Paige said under her breath. But for now, she continued playing with Azzi’s hair as Cinderella played in the background, lulling the girl to sleep.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Sweet Like Sugar 🍭🩷✨ (Tattoo Artist!Geto x Black!Bimbo!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which Geto gets paid a pleasant surprise at his tattoo shop when his favorite, cute little bimbo client comes to visit one night on his birthday to cover her ex's tattoo.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Geto; sub!Reader; Bimbo!Reader; Reader is Black & Fem; Sexual Tension; Stripping; Oral; Deepthroat; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Fucking Standing Up; One Leg Up; Cowgirl); Body Worship; Dick Piercing; Mild Pain Kink; Unprotected PIV; Cum on Ass

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: A very happy birthday to my BABYYYYY!! I wrote this as a quick something to celebrate the special day & because tattoo artist!Geto has been burning a hole in my head AND my p*ssy. Enjoy! -Jazz 🩷💋🩷💋

************

It’s Geto’s birthday and he’s working late. 

Not that he would’ve chosen differently. Geto doesn’t mind working late. Anything he can do to increase the popularity of his beloved tattoo shop, he’ll do it. He’s had this shop for over six years now ever since he graduated from art school and claims it as the reason for his career. Plus, celebrity popularity. 

Ever since he tattooed Rihanna on one of her world tours, he’s tattooed many other popular figures in music which gained him more traction. He can’t be happier with the booming business, even when it is on his birthday. He’s never been the type to make a big deal about the day he was born, so working on inking up people’s bodies and scheduling appointments never bothered him. It does, however, bother Gojo. 

“C’mooon, Sugu,” he whines, using the nickname he’s called Geto since high school. “You’ve been in this sad little shop since 8 in the morning! Let’s go out for drinks. It’s your birthday, after all.” 

Geto, currently bent over his station cleaning off his ink needles and machinery in time for the next appointment at 8 PM (the shop closes at 9, but he lets the guy squeeze since it means more money), rolls his eyes. “7, actually,” he says. “And you know that the bars are packed tonight, Satoru. It’s Saturday. We can go during the week though.” 

Gojo whines again as he shrugs on his coat and pops on his glasses that Geto thinks make him look like one of the three blind mice. “You’re so boring,” he sighs. “Why do I hang out with you?” 

Shoko exits her post at the front desk, putting on her leather trench to hide one of her arms roped in ink. “Because he gave you a job out of college and lets you smoke weed on your breaks,” she mumbles as she pops an unlit cigarette into her mouth. Gojo glares at her while Geto laughs. He gave Gojo a job as a tattooer, along with Shoko (who is also the receptionist), because of how good their skills are. However, he would do it anyway because of their work ethic and the fact that they’re such good friends. 

“I’ll go with you ‘cause I need a drink,” Shoko huffs as she shimmies between the tattoo stations to the front door.” “We’ll drink in honor of you, Sugu.” Before she leaves, she bends over and pecks Geto on the cheek, leaving a ring of red lipgloss. “Happy birthday,” she chuckles. 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, wiping off her lipstick stain. “Have fun.” Shoko heads out into the chilly night, holding the door so Gojo can hurry up and join her outside. His blue-eyed friend stops and pats Geto on the shoulder, nearly knocking Geto’s cleaning rag and his ink machine out of his hands. “Don’t stay too long, alright? You need to sleep.” 

He gives Geto a serious look as he says this. It’s no secret that his friends think that Geto overworks himself to the point of exhaustion, but when you’re a business owner, you have to make sacrifices. “Satoru, my appointment is only askin’ for an outline,” he chuckles. “Those only take me twenty to thirty minutes, tops. But I appreciate your concern.” He puts a hand on Geto’s, giving him a smile. “As soon as I’m done, I’ll hop on my motorcycle and head out of here, okay?” 

Gojo nods, looking satisfied with that. “And let us know if a hot girl comes in,” he says with a smirk. “Maybe even that sweetheart you’ve got your head in a tizzy over.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Geto who rolls his eyes, but his body tingles at the mention of you, the “sweetheart” in question. 

“Not head’s not in a tizzy,” he scoffs, standing up from his leather seat to get a drink, but mostly to escape his friend’s teasing. “Whatever the fuck that means. And she hasn’t been here in over two weeks.” Gojo watches Geto’s muscular back as he walks away, the dragon tatted on his back flexing along with his muscles. “You miiiiiss her,” he teasingly sings. 

Geto cuts his eyes sharply at his friend, about to tell him off, but Shoko peeks her head through the front door. “Cut it out,” she criticizes Gojo. “Now let’s go before we can’t find a seat.” She nods at Geto with a smile, giving him a wink. “Take it easy, Suguru.” Geto hums in agreement and waves as he moves behind the front desk to their mini fridge. 

“Remember what I said!” Geto calls as he heads out the door. “Let me know if she comes! I want details!” Then he’s off with Shoko into the city, leaving Geto alone in his shop. “Lock the door on your way out!” Geto calls, but they leave before his order reaches them. Sighing, he takes an ice-cold water bottle out of the fridge and takes a gulp of it before walking over to lock the door. 

Though he loves his friends, he was counting on them leaving tonight since they’re heavy drinkers and Gojo is a partier. It gives him time to be alone with his thoughts and, though he will never admit it, he is hoping to see you tonight. He’s been staying late for just that reason, making the excuse to ink people for later appointments, count cash, and clean up shop. He’s been hoping one day that you’d pop up on his schedule or that you’d call so he can hear your sweet, sexy voice, but to his utter disappointment, you haven’t. 

Ever since you entered his shop a month ago to get your belly button pierced, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind. It was a chilly but sunny day when he met you and he had just returned from lunch to get started with his next appointment. Gojo and Choso, one of his other skilled yet young tattooers, were working that day. Geto had walked in, positively pissed, in his wool trench after parking, locking, and hopping off of his motorcycle. 

The bell above the door rang as he stomped in wearing his boots, wanting to stomp someone. “You won’t believe this shit,” he scoffed to no one in particular but knew that his coworkers would listen. “I almost ran over this guy’s dog who ran out into the street without a leash. The dude tried to blame me for it even though he’s an irresponsible dog owner! Then, the idiot was threatening to sue for…” 

He immediately stopped complaining the moment he got a look at you checking in at the front desk along with your friend. 

You turned around at the same time as his coworkers when he stomped through the door, giving him an eyeful of your pretty, brown skin and eyes highlighted by the pink you wore: a pink trench with flurry sleeves and neckline; a pink cropped sweater that exposed your tummy and juicy cleavage held up by your push-up bra; pink nails he wanted to feel wrapped around him; juicy, glossy, pink lips that chewed on some strawberry mint gum he could smell from the door. 

The only things that weren’t pink on you were the black boots that didn’t make him any taller than you and your hip-hugging, low-waist jeans that flared out at the bottom of your ankles and hugged your waist and thighs something wicked. Geto was silenced, his heart thundering in his ears and blood immediately rushing to his cock. He was disgusted at that, but he couldn’t help it! It was like you stepped out of a man’s wettest dream. You were the perfect mix of adorable and sexy. 

Shoko smirked at Gojo from across the room before clearing her throat to fill the awkward silence. “Your 3 PM is here, Geto,” she announced. You gave him a big, blinding, warm smile and he wore he nearly popped a nosebleed. “Hi!” you greeted him. “That’s me! I booked it online on your website.” 

Realizing he looked like an idiot just standing there, Geto quickly recovered and cleared his throat, ignoring Gojo’s soft sniggers. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yes, my 3 o’clock. I’m Suguru.” He stuck out his hand to you which you took, your hand so much smaller and softer than his. “I’m Y/N,” you said in that sweet voice. “This is my friend. She introduced me to your shop ‘cause Ariana Grande got her tattoo done here.” 

“Oh, yeah, Ms. Grande!” he chuckled. He had to take a moment to think about that because his brain was too busy focusing on how good you smelled and your pretty smile. “Yeah, she was very nice. Are you here for some ink? I don’t think you said anything about what you wanted for your appointment.” 

You giggled, sheepishly so. “You guys do piercings, right?” you asked, blinking those big, doe-like eyes and doll-like lashes up at him. He nodded, afraid to speak. “I was hoping if maybe I could get a belly button ring. A pink one, please! Or one shaped like a heart!” 

Your friend nudged you the wider and more excited your gorgeous eyes got. “Y/N,” she whined. “Don’t be so pushy.” But Geto chortled to himself, thinking it was adorable. “It’s cool,” he chuckled. “Well, follow me to my station and I can show you what we have.” 

While your friend waited in the waiting area where snacks and drinks sat, you followed Geto to his workstation where a stool for himself, a retractable chair for his clients, and a large mirror plastered against the wall sat. He presented you with a glass case of rings to choose from, each one becoming more expensive due to the kind of metal used and whether the diamond in it is real. “Oooh, I’ll take this one!” you cooed, pointing at the fuschia pink diamond stud with a butterfly charm hanging off of it. “It’s so pretty!” Geto smirked, knowing that you’d pick that. “Lemme just sit up real quick,” he told you and you nodded before shedding your coat. 

When you did, he watched as you bent over to toss the coat over your chair, getting an eyeful of your back and your ass in your jeans. He has never had a client make it so hard to work before. His cock practically became his head, throbbing intensely. He tried to distract himself by putting on his latex clothes and cleaning the piercing needle. Once done, he took out the earring and dangled it in front of you. “You like pink?” he asked, smirking. 

You gave him a sheepish, shy smile. “Is it that obvious?” you giggled. “I just love the color. I think it makes me look cuter.” He didn’t tell you that he agreed. You then began to look around the store aimlessly, gaping at the sketches hanging up behind him. “Wow, did you draw that?” you gasped, pointing at a blue dragon emerging from a bed of water lilies. “That’s sooo beautiful! You design your own stuff?” 

He nodded, flushing at the compliment. “Thank you, and yes, I do. I’m a tattoo artist who just so happens to own their own shop.” He patted the chair, giving you a warm, comforting smile. “Go ahead and get comfortable. Lie back for me.” You did so, sitting down and lying back against the leather cushion, but you looked tense. “How long have you owned your shop for?” you asked. “That’s gotta be hard. I’m going to college now, so I know how it feels to be so overwhelmed. Classes are cool. I hate math classes though. I mean, what do we need to learn calculus for? It’s pointless! I wanna be a teacher, not…” 

You stopped, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous.” He raised an eyebrow at you as he set out some anti-bacterial wipes and soothing cream. “Nervous?” he asked. “I can see you’ve gotten piercings before though.” He nodded at your ears and diamond nose ring. 

“Yeah, but those weren’t for my body!” you argued. “But then again, I do wanna get my nipples done too, so I guess I’ll have to get used to needles.” 

Geto didn’t tell you how much the idea of you having nipple rings turned him on. Maybe they would be pink too. “I have tattoos too,” you added. He once again quirked an eyebrow at you, happy to get to know you more to ease your nerves…and also because he was so intrigued by you. “Do you now?” he prompted, curious. “Lemme see.” 

You first showed him one––a tiny purple butterfly on your right arm. “I got this one two years ago for my birthday,” you explained. You then rolled down your pants slightly, making Geto blush and think very naughty thoughts, to show him the name inked on your left thigh. “And this one is my boyfriend’s name.” You stated this so proudly. 

Geto tried not to wither at the fact that you were taken. Of course, you would be! You were too damn cute to not be with someone. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked. “How’d you meet him?” He hated how bitter he sounded, but you didn’t seem to notice. “We go to the same school together. Funny enough, he was my weed plug and he asked me out. We’ve been together for two years now.” 

You gave him a crooked smirk as you pulled your pants back up. “I know it’s silly,” you sighed. “That’s what my friend said: to get a guy’s name tattooed on your body.” Geto felt a pang of guilt because he was thinking it. “I didn’t say that,” he protested. “You’d be surprised how many people come in here wantin’ their significant other’s name tatted on them.” 

“Well, there’s the whole logic behind it that if you break up, you’ll have their name on you forever!” you stated. “But I know that’s not gonna happen. We’re doing great and he’s got my name tatted on him in the same spot!” you sounded so certain that Geto couldn’t dare argue. 

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said, giving you a smile before fetching an alcohol swap. “I’m just gonna clean your belly button first and then you’ll feel a pinch. There will be blood, but not a lot.” 

You nodded and braced yourself by squeezing the chair before he began to wipe at your belly button. “That tickles!” you laughed, endearing, hysterical giggles leaving your mouth as Geto did his thing. He smiled, loving the sound. He wanted to make you laugh always. Once done, he took the needle and gave you a soothing smile. “So tell me what you go to school for.” 

You were happy to tell him and he found that the more he talked to you, the less tense and nervous you were. You talked the whole time he took the needle and pierced your belly button, trying not to laugh at your squeal of pain. You were just the sweetest thing ever. He also found that the more he talked to you, the more he wanted to know you. Once finished and your stomach was clean, you admired your piercing in the mirror. “Thank you so, so much, Suguru!” you squealed. “It’s so, so cute!” 

Geto watched you shake your hips in the mirror, agreeing that the tiny charm looked so damn cute hanging from your belly. He tried not to stare too much, instead, spraying and sanitizing the chair for the next client. “Do you have an IG that I can tag you in?” you asked, taking out your phone with a Hello Kitty case. God, how cuter could you possibly get?! He just wanted to scoop you up and put you in his pocket! 

“Yeah, and I’ll give it to you when I ring you up,” he stated, loving how sweet you were. Once he finished cleaning up and giving you the solution to clean your piercing with, he walked you to the front desk to pay and totaled it, telling you something completely lower than the actual price. “Oh…but that’s not the price on your website,” you stated, confused. 

“I know,” he chuckled, looking down at you adoringly. “A college girl like you needs to save.” Realization flickered in your eyes. “That’s so sweet!” you cooed and, after you finished paying, surprised him by putting $20 in the tip jar. “For doing such a good job on me,” you giggled. “I’ll make sure I visit here again for a tattoo.” 

Geto shared your smile, feeling his heart thud at the thought of you coming back. He wanted you to come back. “I look forward to it, Y/N,” he said, not realizing how deep and sultry your voice sounded. But you did and your friend had to come get you because your legs suddenly forgot how to function. You looked back at him over your shoulder before you finally left, making Geto wonder if he’d see you again. Gojo was more than excited to be nosey and leaned against the front desk while Geto counted change. “What?” he grumbled, not even looking up. 

“Dude, you should’ve copped that,” Gojo sighed. “I would’ve definitely slid that cutie my digits.” 

Geto glared at him as he dropped the coins in the register. “She said she has a boyfriend, in case you’re hard at hearing,” he pointedly said. 

Gojo clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “That don’t matter! You could’ve given her your card for…business purposes.” He smirked suggestively, ever the perv.  “Why would I need to do that if she has my IG?” Geto scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Da fuck I look like givin’ this girl my card with my number on it? She would’ve thought I was trying to pick her up. And besides, she’s probably not even gonna show up again.” 

But you did. You showed up the whole month of January to pick up new solution or to get a cleanup on your butterfly tattoo. Geto always took you and if he wasn’t there to do so, you came back when he was on his shifts which made his heart flutter. You learned more about him and he about you during all of your sessions which became his favorites. You had become his favorite client because of how sweet you were to everyone. Your personality and presence seemed to brighten his shop a little more. He looked forward to the days you’d come in. 

Until suddenly, you stopped. He hasn’t seen you in over a week and though he had your number in the system, he refused to call you. He didn’t want to overstep boundaries, so he just left it be, but he can’t deny that his heart aches every time the bell above the door rings and you’re not standing there. 

After fifteen minutes of cleaning up and humming to the music blasting from his phone, it begins to drizzle outside which means that his appointment may be cancelled. Many clients cancel or don’t show up when the weather is nasty. No more than five minutes later, he gets a call on the shop’s phone which goes right to voicemail. “Hi there!” his appointment, an older man, says. “This message is for Geto Suguru. I apologize, but I have to cancel because of my work hours. I’ll reschedule for an opening next week. Have a good night!” 

“Shit,” Geto cusses, not happy to have wasted his time, but also glad that he’ll be able to go home early and chill on a rainy night. So he busies himself with putting up the closed sign on the door before taking a Clorox wipe and wiping down the front desk. With his back to the door, he hears the bell make its tinkling sound behind him. 

“Hey, sorry, but we’re closed,” he announces without looking behind him. “Oh, sorry!” your sweet, familiar voice says. “I wanted to…” Geto immediately stops cleaning to turn to face you. You stand there frozen with an umbrella dripping in water and wearing a cropped pink tracksuit and matching pants bedazzled with your name on them. You both stare at each other for a minute, completely silent and transfixed, before you manage to smile at him. “Hi,” you greet him. 

God, how he’s missed that smile. “Hi,” he parrots, still in awe. “What brings you here tonight, stranger?” 

Your smile grows wider, a little brighter than before but still slightly…off. You don’t have that light to them. “I had come to get something, but I can come back. I thought y’all closed at 10 PM.” 

“We do,” Geto replies, already putting away the cleaning products, “but my client cancelled, so I was gonna shut down shop early…but I can still take you depending on what you need.” You look relieved at that and he wants to know why. “Thank you, Suguru,” you sigh. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your night.” 

“Nonsense,” he chuckles, walking you over to his work station. “My night was gettin’ boring anyway, so I’m glad you walked in. Hop up.” He pats the seat to which you hop up on, your legs dangling from the seat. The sound of SZA swells around the shop, filling the silence. Usually, you’re so chipper and singing along to the tunes, but tonight, you’re completely quiet. 

“So I’ve got ask,” Geto says, giving you a warm smile. “Where have you been at all this time? I haven’t seen you around the shop lately.” He begins to take the cleaning products for piercings and tattoos out to make it the conversation seem casual, but in reality, he is dying to know where you disappeared to. You shrug, looking everywhere but at him. “Just dealin’ with classes, you know,” you answer softly. “Exams, tests, papers…” He nodded understandably and rolled towards you on his stool. “So what are you lookin’ for tonight?” he asks. 

And he doesn’t know what in that question gets to you, but you immediately burst into tears. A sob-like exhale breaks through that chest and sobs begin to escape those pretty lips as you weep into your hands. Geto is taken aback, not sure what to do. “Uh…did I say something wrong?” he asks. 

You vigorously shake your head, your cheeks now coated in tears. “No, no,” you sniffle. "I’m so sorry, Suguru. I just…” You sigh, shaking your head. “My boyfriend broke up with me,” you confess. “The one whose name I got tattooed on my fucking thigh! TMI, but I caught him fucking another girl in his dorm when I went over to celebrate his birthday with a cake I made.” 

Geto crumbles at the sight of you looking so low; so down; so insecure. He hates seeing you like that and he hates that your bitch ass ex caused this. “I came to get his name covered,” you admit. “Maybe with a flower or another butterfly. Something pretty to cover this ugliness. I’m sorry to spring this on you so late, but–“ 

You abruptly stop because Geto is looking at you in a way that he has never looked at a client. His gaze his hooded but fierce and serious, one of his hands gripping the chair arm and nearly brushing against your arm. “You don’t have to be sorry about a thing, Y/N,” he says in a gentle, sweet voice that soothes you and makes you feel safe. “I’d be happy to do this for you. And if it’s any consolation, a girl as sweet as you deserves much more than someone that hurts you.” 

You stare at him for a moment, your eyes big and glassy from crying. He gives you a smile that you mirror, flashing him something he has been aching to see. “And plus, my birthday couldn’t get more exciting,” he chuckles. At this, you gasp. “It’s your birthday?” you coo. “Oh, that makes me feel even worse!” 

Geto laughs, patting your hand comfortingly, ignoring the sparks that fly as he does. “It’s cool, really. I don’t celebrate my birthday like that.” He goes to roll away so he can get some designs for you, but you stop him by placing a hand on his arm. He turns, finding you staring him down with an unreadable, hot expression. “Well…is there any way I can repay you?” you ask, but there is a purr to it. It is soft and low, but Geto hears it. And suddenly, he feels as if you aren’t just here for the ink. 

The air shifts to something less than professional and friendly. Though Geto should ignore it, he doesn’t, too distracted by your lips and thick thighs in those track pants. “Well, what did you have in mind?” he asks, his voice dipping an octave. To you, it sounds like dripping honey and makes you feel a way that your ex never did. 

You suddenly slip off of the chair and stand in front of him while he sits. He wheels closer to you so you stand between his thick, muscular thighs in his jeans, looking up into your eyes. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you say, your tone sultry and sweet. "I don’t want you to think you’re rebound ‘cause you’re not. I’ve always liked you, Suguru, but I didn’t want to ruin things with my ex...but now that we’re done, I’d like to take our relationship somewhere else.” You give him a shy smile that nearly makes him bust. “If you’re down for it,” you add, batting those pretty lashes at him. 

Seconds later, his control flying out the fucking window, Geto finds himself snatching you down to kiss him, causing you to fall into his lap. He swallows your surprised mewls and soft moans as he kissed your lips, making his sticky with your gloss. He gives you those moans right back, desperate and yearning, as you straddle him. He can feel how warm you are the more he kisses and touches you, especially between your thighs. You grind against his crotch as your hands stroke up his chest and his squeeze and mold the thick, soft globes of your ass in your tracksuit pants. 

“Finally,” he murmurs through your kiss. “I’ve been wanting you…wanting you for so fuckin’ long.” One hand trails up your back to caress your spine while the other rests on your ass, coaxing you to continue to grind your hips into him. “Me too,” you whimper as he nipples gently on your plump, pillowy-soft bottom lip. “I have too.” 

He smiles through the kiss, happy to know that you’ve been aching for him even when you were with someone already. This is insane! He was so sure he would go home after locking up the shop, take a ride on his motorcycle, and smoke a blunt to end the night off. He doesn’t expect anything that happens tonight to go the way that it does. 

He doesn’t expect to find himself stripping for you while you strip for him, laughing as you help each other with your clothes and steal hot, breathless kisses in between. He snatches down the zipper to your tracksuit while you snatch down your pants, leaving you in just your pink Hello Kitty bra and panties. He laughs at your undies, making you smack his arm. “I think they’re cute,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You strip off his baggy, black sweatshirt while he takes off his tank top underneath, revealing his toned body and tatted arms to you. He never likes to brag about himself, but the way you’re looking at him like he’s a long-haired Adonis makes him want to. 

“You’re so, so pretty, Sugu,” you mewl, dragging your long, pink, pretty nails across his skin. You run your hands over every part of him: his arms; his hips; his chest and pecs; his toned stomach that leads down to his V-line smooth with skin and inked with a lipstick mark. You giggle at the tattoo, running your thumb over it. “It ain’t someone’s lips in particular,” he explains, shivering at your touch. “But I wouldn’t mind if they were yours.” 

“I’d hope you wouldn’t,” you purr before bending down to press your lips to the tattoo, leaving a stain of your gloss there. He returns the same action when he takes down your bra straps to expose your pretty titties and hard, tight, brown nipples to him that he pepper in kisses and suckles that make you moan and toss your head back. 

He doesn't expect you to bend over the chair for him when he demands it: “Bend over for me,” he says in his deep, smooth voice that makes you shiver. You look back at him, presenting your ass to him to take for himself. Geto feels like a wild animal the way he moves your panties down to your knees and stuffs his face in your pussy. His hands mold and smack your ass, loving the way it jiggles and how you gasp every single time his hand comes down to hit one of your jiggly, soft asscheeks. 

He doesn’t expect his lips and tongue to be in your pussy, licking, sucking, and lapping up your juices which you allow by pressing your ass further into him. “Fuck, Sugu!” you moan, moving one arm back to run your fingers through his long, black locks. “You’re so, so good at this!” You make sounds and move in a way that makes him feel as if your ex hasn’t been treating you right. 

He wants to make up for all of it, so he continues to lap at your sweet, pretty little cunt and moan as he does it, drunk off of the taste of you. He’s drunk in love with the way your skin contrasts with his, wanting to see his cum dripping down it; the way your sobs and whines of pleasure bounce off of the walls; the way your nails massaging his scalp as you grip his hair; the way your ass and hips whine and grind into his mouth like a little slut in heat. 

“You’re so good to me, mama,” he murmurs against your clit. “So sweet…like sugar.” You whimper at his words, sneaking your hand down to rub your clit while he tongue-fucks you against the leather chair. 

He doesn’t expect to switch with you and have his long, thick cock wrapped in your soft lips, your tongue lapping at the pre-cum bubbling from the head. He loves the way you ogle his dick once you get his pants off, letting the appendage spring to life. He is thick, veiny, girthy, and has a stud piercing in the bulbous head that makes him blush.

"Aw, baby!" you coo happily, gently poking at the studded earring. "You have a dick piercing! That's so fucking hot." You settle on your knees, naked, your pretty eyes and doll-like lashes staring up at him while you stroke and gag on his cock like it’s your profession.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, tossing his head back at the sensations. He wants so desperately to keep looking at you, but the sight and the feeling is almost too much. 

Your mouth is just so wet and your throat is so tight. When you release him, your mouth and lips are coated in spit and pre-cum, your lash line slightly glittering in tears. “You taste so good, Sugu,” you moan, biting your lower lip as you watch your hand stroke his wet cock up and down. He’s just as hypnotized, loving how your nails look wrapped around his thick, veiny dick. 

“Am I doin’ a good job?” you teasingly ask. “Am I makin’ you feel good?” You dip back down to take him deeper down your throat, gagging and choking along his length. Geto grunts, one hand gripping your hair while the other digs into the leather cushion beneath him. “God, yes!” he moans. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sugar. Such a good girl for me.” 

You giggle, drunk off of him, and continue to eagerly take him, your soft lips sliding along his shaft as your mouth goes up and down, up and down, giving him throat like he has never experienced in his life…and in his place of business, no less! 

And he certainly doesn’t expect you to be bent over the chair again and him behind you, his hands on your ass and his cock sliding inside of you. Of course, he pauses to ask if this is still okay and that you can say no at any time. But you look back at him with a giddy smile and a need in your eyes that almost makes him cum. “I want this, Sugu,” you softly say, your hand pressing against his stomach just to feel him up. “Please fuck me.” 

And when you toss that ass back into him, he just about loses it. He grips your hips and begins slowly rocking his hips into your wet heat, letting you get used to the feeling. He pays attention to your sounds and the way your body moves, your knees wobbly and body shaking. “You okay?” he asks, comfortingly stroking your back. You nod, panting heavily as his cock internally strokes your clit as it slides in and out of you. “You’re bigger than my ex, is all,” you shakily say. “But I can take it.” 

Geto doesn’t tell you how happy that makes him. It gives him the chance to really fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. “You’re so tight for me, sugar,” he moans, continuing to give himself to you nice and slow. “So wet too. You must be feening for this dick, aren’t you?” He takes you by the back of the neck and angles himself in a way that makes your moans grow louder when he fucks you. 

“Faster, Sugu!” you beg. “Please fuck this pussy faster! Harder!” He can’t deny the way his cock swells and twitches inside you at the sound of your pleas. 

He grabs your hips and gives you exactly what you want, fucking you so roughly that your knees begin to buckle and your moans echo with the music playing on his phone. His own sounds of pleasure mingle with yours, mixing with the sound of his cock lewdly swirling in your squelching, wet pussy that grips him tighter than a vice. “Take it,” he demands. “Take it like a good girl. You wanted this shit, right?” 

He smacks your ass in time with his thrusts, causing sharp sounds of his hand connecting with your cheeks and your moans to bounce off of the shop’s walls. Your ass is just too perfect and he can't get enough of the way it bounces and jiggles so enticingly against his stomach as he drills you. He wouldn’t mind seeing his name tatted on one of your delectable cheeks or as a tramp stamp across your lower back or even on your thigh. He sees you now as his own. You are his. 

“That feel good, hm?” he teasingly asks, continue to hold your neck as he pistons into you. “You like that, sugar? Y’know, this pussy is almost sweeter than you.” He pauses and slowly holds your leg up, waiting for your consent to continue. You nod, pushing back into him as if you can’t get enough of his cock. 

For a while, he fucks you just like that with one hand holding your leg up and the other gripping your neck, holding you steady as he strokes that G-spot again and again, his heavy balls hitting that clit and making you tingle all over. But he doesn’t just fuck you from behind. He does it in any way you want and are comfortable with doing. 

He turns you around, picks you up, and fucks you stand up, you dangling from his waist. You just about scream and sob with pleasure as his cock pounds into you like a jackhammer, your arms and legs wrapped around him like a koala bear. “F-Fuck, Sugu!” you babble into his neck and hair. “Oh, my God, you’re so fuckin’ good!” He pulls you away to stare at the pleasure in your eyes and then kiss you, moaning hotly into your mouth. It only makes him fuck you harder, making you bounce against his cock. 

When you finally cum is when he lies on his back on the floor and has you ride him. You do so with vigor and eagerness, bouncing up and down on his dick like the cutest little rabbit. He lies under you, his big hands gripping your hips and ass as you do your thing. “God, baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.” 

He can feel his balls tightening and that knot in his stomach threatening to snap the more your pussy slams down onto him and the more those precious titties jiggle and bounce in front of him. “Cum with me, Sugu!” you beg in that sweet voice, your nails digging into his pecs. “Give it to me please! I’m so close!” Ever the vixen, you randomly slow down and begin to giggle like a damn villain when Geto groans at the edging, your wet walls just too much to not fuck up into. 

And that’s what he does. He takes a hold of you and grips you to him before slamming himself up into you again and again, his moans and grunts of pleasure mixing with yours as your mixed juices drip down his balls, making your cunt wet enough to fuck with vigor. “Cum with me,” he demands as you whine into his ear, his cock too much. “Cum on this dick, baby. Do it! Give it to me!” 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock, your pussy squeezing him tight enough where he can hardly move. When you do, it triggers his own orgasm. He quickly pulls out of you and fucks his fist until his cum spurts all over your ass and pussy, drenching you in it. His lips find yours, his moans and heavy pants mixing with yours as your tongues swirl with one another. You giggle into the kiss, causing him to laugh too. “Fuck,” you sigh against his mouth. “That was so good.” 

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. Exhausted, you roll off of him and onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. Beads of sweat roll down Geto’s toned body and forehead as he heavily pants, recovering from the sex. Feeling your hand sneak into his, he smiles and interlaces your fingers. 

“I expect you to be comin’ back regularly now,” he chuckles. 

“If I can look forward to this, sure,” you hum. “That was fantastic! Way better than my bitch ass ex!” Geto turns over to look at you, loving how you look in the afterglow after getting your gorgeous brains fucked out. “Speakin’ of which, you wanna get back to the tattoo or just continue this?” he asks, nodding down at your thigh where your ex’s name still sits. “I'm with either, sugar. It’s all up to you.” 

You look up at him with those eyes and inch closer to his body to wrap your arms around him. “In a bit,” you sigh, making him laugh as you squeeze him to you like a teddy bear. He embraces you back, pressing a kiss to your forehead and breathing in the scents of your sweet-smelling body spray and sex on your skin. He loves how small you are, how warm and soft you feel against him. He feels like you belong there with him and he with you. 

After a couple of minutes of soft kisses and drawing shapes on each other’s naked bodies, you each get dressed and get back to business. After Geto fetches you some water and a snack, yu sit up in the chair and lay back while he puts on some gloves and moves your pants down to show the flesh of your thigh. When he fetches the tattoo gun, your eyes grow wide like a cartoon character’s. 

He snorts at your reaction as he dips the needle in some red for your new tattoo. You chose a nice rose to cover your ex’s name. “Still scared of needles?” he chortles. You nod, focusing on the needle. “Just grab my hand and breathe, okay?” He puts out his hand for you to take, but you stop him from plugging in the gun. 

“Oh, wait!” you exclaim and begin digging in your purse. You then pull out a bedazzled weed pen and take a hit, the smoke billowing from your soft, glossy lips that he wants to kiss again. The way they form an O makes his cock twitch. “Want some?” you ask and he leans in to take a hit. The smoke fills his lungs and he holds it as you lean in, prompting him to blow the smoke into your mouth. 

Once relaxed, you nod, silently telling him to continue. “Here we go, sugar,” he gently announces. He plugs in the gun and it begins to muzzle. “Just breathe.” You do so, holding his hand and looking away as the needle gets closer to your skin. Once the first pricks come, you tense and squeeze his hand, but you still breathe. “Good girl,” he coos. “You're doin’ so, so well for me.” 

You give him a wobbly smile, but the fear in your eyes has wained…mostly because he starts rubbing your clit. “S-Sugu,” you whimper, closing your trembling thighs around his hand. 

“Just focus,” he instructs you as his thick fingers stroke your needy clit. “Focus on my fingers, sugar, okay?” You nod, giving him a cute expression that makes him want to fuck you all over again. 

You do and all that is heard throughout the shop are the buzzing of the tattoo gun, the music, and your sweet moans. 

THE END. 

[reidsmuse01]

“You don’t need to cover up the bruises/hickeys.”

Pairing: Luca x Fem Reader

Summary: You’re a receptionist/you have a desk job at Swat. You’re in a relationship with Luca that you’ve recently gone public with.

Warnings: mentions of hickeys, references to smut!

————————————————————————

When you took the job as a receptionist in Swat the last thing you expected was to fall for a third generation Swat officer. You and Luca hit it off right away and you became good friends with Luca and the rest of the team.

But what the team didn’t know was that you and Luca had been in a secret relationship for around 6 months. Sneaking around in the locker room, making out in the back of the movie theatre, secret weekends away. At first it was nice to have it a secret, something that was only between you and Luca, however keeping that big a secret from the team proved impossible, especially when Luca and Street moved in together. The inevitable happend and Street walked in on you and Luca making out on the couch at Luca’s house one night with hardly any clothes on. Luca threw himself on top of you to hide your half naked body from Street’ s view, but the big grin that quickly grew on Street’s face meant that you and Luca would have to do some serious ass kissing to get Street to keep your secret.

Eventually you and Luca got sick of keeping the secret and on a team night out both you and Luca got drunk and started making out on the dance floor for everyone to see. When the team saw this they were shocked. They knew Luca had a girl on the down low- they just didn’t expect it to be you. Street then got the satisfaction of explaining about he walked in on you and Luca weeks ago and was happy with himself as he was the first of the team to know about the relationship.

Fast forward to today. You’re standing in Luca’s bathroom getting ready for work and trying to use whatever makeup you have on hand to cover the hickeys on your neck. The deep purple bruises are a reminder of the passionate night you had with Luca and although you thought they were a turn on and liked when Luca marked you as his- you didn’t want to deal with the jokes you’d get at work or the dirty looks from the Commander.

Luca walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and saw what you were doing.

“Um, baby what are you doing?”, Luca questioned.

“What does it look like I’m doing?, I’m trying to cover these bruises for work Mr “I didn’t leave any marks on your neck”, you said with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

Luca came behind you wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. “Look I was too focused on giving my baby a good time than to be worrying about any of that”, he whispered into your ear as a shiver went up your spine.

“You don’t need to cover up the hickeys”, he said looking at you in the mirror.

“You’re mine and I want the world to know that” he said leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“If anyone slags you off at work, you come tell me and I’ll deal with it ok”, Luca said moving away from you and going to brush his teeth and apply his deodorant and finish getting ready for work.

“Luca I’m not gonna go run to my boyfriend just cause someone makes a joke in work”, you laugh.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself”, you say, wiping the makeup off you neck, realising it didn’t cover anything anyway.

“Oh don’t I know it”, he smirked, smacking your ass and letting out a chuckle as he left the bathroom.

You had texted Chris, your best friend and the reason you got the job in Swat, telling her about the hickey situation. She found it hilarious and when you got to work you had prepared yourself for the jokes. Chris immediately came up to you to inspect your neck when she saw you.

“Damn girl, you weren’t kidding when you said those were DEEP purple”, she laughed.

“Yeah yeah, come on, let it all out, imma hear all the jokes today anyway”, you rolled your eyes.

Luca walked in behind you carrying two coffees. He handed you yours and he saw the smirk evident on Chris’ face.

“What?”, he asked.

“Jeez man, maybe next time have something to eat first and not eat my best friend”, Chris laughed, attracting the attention of the rest of the team.

They all walked over and took it in turns to look at your neck and instead of making jokes at you, they aimed them at Luca, who by now was a deep shade of red.

You were amused by the whole situation and Luca agreed that maybe next time you should wear the makeup to which you whispered “well maybe, you just need to leave them somewhere nobody else can see”, and with that you kissed his lips and made your way to you desk.

Needless to say that is exactly what Luca did the minute he got you home that night. 😜

[cmdrfupa]

Tend to me

Barkeep!Nanami x Salarywomxn!Reader

“That's what I do. I drink and I know things.”

a/n did this come from talking in a server about how post college Nanami needs a job and simping over how hot he’d be with his sleeves rolled up? You bet your ass it did. Thank you Court and Nana for your beautiful brains 🩵💜

MDNI +19

Five rejection emails, no callbacks, and his interview today turned into a scene from a novela after the receptionist barged into the boss's office, exclaiming that she was pregnant. All in the span of one week.

Kento pressed his forehead to the linoleum. table as he groaned.  

“Don't give up! It's like, 10,000 other bank jobs! You'll get one.” Haibara squeezed Kento’s shoulder as he watched his form slump into itself. 

"Yu, it seems like I’ve been turned down for 10,000 jobs. At this rate, I’ll have better luck getting a job as a cab driver.”

“But you don't have a car—”

“Shhhhhh.” Kento turned his head to the side, still keeping it on the table and looking at Yu. 

He knew Yu was trying to help, but it’d be more helpful if he didn't speak.

"Look, Ken. If nothing else comes up, I can talk to my boss to get you hired.” Yu stuffed the last of his tuna onigiri in his mouth, smiling as he attempted to cheer his roommate up. “You won't have my role as a trainer, but you could be one of the guys who clean off the sweaty machines! Pays pretty decent.” 

Clearing his throat, Kento sat up, eyes still closed before he spoke up. 

“Yu.”

“Yeah?” His big brown eyes were only filled with genuine care; Kento looked over at him and sighed.

“Thank you. I'll let you know if I need you to do that.

 Yu gave a toothy grin as he gave Kento a swift pat on the back. “It's all gonna be okay! Just breathe.”

Kento stood with a wry smile. “Thanks. I'm gonna go for a walk. Clear my mind a bit. See you tonight.”

The stroll served its purpose. It reminded Kento he wasn't a poor interviewer, nor did he lack the gusto. The job market was over-saturated and relied heavily on personal connections; Kento did not know a soul in the finance world. 

He stopped; a ‘Now hiring, Inquire within’ sign on a heavily tinted window caught his eye while Gojo watched him from the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Where does that leave you now?”

 “Well, I’ll get some experience in the meantime, become a math teacher or tutor while I look for something more sustainable.” 

"You? A teacher? Nanamin, don’t make me laugh.” Gojo propped his phone up, “You’ll have the students' brains bleeding out if you do that. Think of the children, Ken-doll.” 

Kento rolled his eyes and watched Gojo clean his desk. Literary motifs littered the wall behind Gojo. A large poster of Yevgeny Zamyatin hung in the center. “Math isn't supposed to be fun anyway. It's not teaching Dr. Seuss. It teaches objective truths and concepts.” 

Gojo feigned a yawn. “Wherever there is objective truth, there is satire.”

“That’s not how Wyndham Lewis meant it.”

“You don't know that! He's dead. It's all about interpretation.”

“I’m hanging up now. Gojo. Goodbye.”

Gojo smiled. “I can pull some strings and see if Yaga has a spot in the math department.” he nabbed his phone, seemingly prepping to leave his classroom. 

“And remember dinner this weekend! See you Nanamin!” he blew a kiss into the phone pushing Kento to immediately hang up. 

Kento looked back at the building. The 3-story building had hints of older Japanese architecture with European accents. 

"The Zenith" was carved into a wooden pillar adjacent to the entry, with a simple design. 

“I can just see what they're hiring for. No harm in that.”

The bar inside was the epitome of luxury and sophistication, designed to impress the city’s most discerning clientele. In the hotel's heart, Kento felt out of place. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed breathtaking views of the Tokyo skyline. He waited for the hiring manager to end her dumbfounded stare. 

“So no previous barkeeping history, no customer service work, and no idea how to run a till.” The dark-haired woman named Utahime looked up at Kento. “What qualifications do you have?” 

Smoothing his hair back to think of what he could say to seem qualified, he looked around the room. Older individuals who appear established. Business-minded. 

An older woman, in a meeting, smiling at the blonde-haired man. An older man was on a call. His younger companion crossed her legs and batted her lashes as Kento scanned. 

"I could boost revenue and upsell your best bottles to those who don't care about the price."

“Mr. Nanami. How could you do that? Most of our clientele just order one drink and maybe a listening ear.” 

There were a lot of things Kento lacked but looks were never one of them. The gift of having the perfect genetics made academics a breeze. But, it was now time to use his good looks and gift of gab, inherited from his grandfather. 

“I learn quick. Hire me today and I’ll have every stool filled and the register overfilled in 7 days. I guarantee.” 

Polished, calm, and precise. Nanami excelled behind the bar, his steady hands mixing drinks for the city’s elite. With his sleeves rolled, he perfected the craft of keeping up with mundane conversations mid-shake. His bulging veins, as he held the shaker, made every woman calculate their tip before he served their martinis.  Muscles flexed when he noticed some of the older men who could care less about the young women in cocktail dresses attempting to be mysterious and wanted to know if the blonde keep could do more than be heavy-handed on the gin. 

He was the bar's eye candy, something they should've thought about hiring months ago. 

It's a world where he realized he can control every variable, crafting experiences one cocktail at a time. 

After his first week, they offered him a permanent position. Working midday during the week to keep businessmen and women pleased and one Saturday evening shift a month to keep the younger crowd in.  

The low hum of conversation and soft jazz music filled the dimly lit bar as Kento worked behind the sleek marble counter, expertly mixing another round of drinks for the evening's guests. He wore his usual stoic expression, with the usual white button-down shirt and well-fitting slacks to match. 

He placed a completed cocktail on the bar top, and wiped his hands while checking what needed to be refilled. “Utahime? Could I get some more ice and a few more lowball glasses, please?” he spoke into the earpiece he donned on his left ear. “They seem to be disappearing, and Choso isn't back from his break."

"Yeah. Give me 20. I'm running tables for catering. I'll send it by Takuma.”

“Thanks.”

He wiped down the bar top; a figure slid onto one of the high-backed leather stools in his peripheral with an aura that turned heads without needing to demand attention. 

“What can I get started for you this afternoon?”

“I’ll have a French 75, please. Thank you.” Smooth and assured, your voice rang like a hymnal in his ears. 

Kento gave you a nod, his ability to indulge in small talk temporarily taken from him by your presence. He set to work, measuring gin and fresh lemon juice with his usual care, topped with a flourish of champagne. The drink landed before you in a delicate, chilled glass.

You took a sip, eyes never leaving his. Your nude-colored lips curved into a small but telling smile. "Not bad... but not quite perfect either."

Kento raised an eyebrow, subtly intrigued but keeping his expression neutral. “I take it you have high standards.” 

You chuckled, low and sultry. “I’m a person who knows what she wants, and I don’t settle for anything less.”

Nanami leaned in slightly, his tone dry yet teasing. “Perfection is subjective. Some people might call that 'almost' drinkable."

"Almost isn't in my vocabulary," you replied, eyes gleaming with challenge. You pursed your lips. “Not in business, not in life... and definitely not in drinks.”

He smirked, just enough for you to notice. “I’ll keep that in mind for your next order.”

You swirled the drink in your glass, the fizz of champagne catching the low light as you appraised him. “A man who can admit he’s not perfect? You must have been raised well. Refreshing.”

Nanami met your gaze, unruffled by your attempt to throw him off his game. “I prefer precision over perfection. Perfection tends to make people complacent.”

Your eyes narrowed but with a hint of amusement. “Interesting perspective, coming from someone who works behind a bar.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Someone has to remind people that the best things in life have room for improvement. Even when they think they’ve already got it all.”

Tilting your head, glancing at the way the simple silver chain rested against his collar. You were impressed but clearly enjoying the game. “You might be onto something. What’s your name?”

“Nanami Kento,” he said simply, as he wiped down the bar.

“Well, Nanami,” your voice is softer but no less commanding, "next time, why don’t you make me a drink that I can’t critique?”

He gave you a rare, almost imperceptible smile. “Challenge accepted.”

Your eyes lingered on each other, the tension electric. You raised your glass, with a smile so poised and self-assured, before taking another sip.

"Looking forward to it," you murmured, low and teasing. Then, you stood and left a 50-dollar tip with your card. You walked away, your perfume lingering in the air.

Kento read your name on the card. His curiosity ran wild with every possible scenario as he watched your backend disappear into the lobby

_

A few days later, the bar's golden lights glowed softly. They reflected off the dark marble counter as Nanami wiped down glasses. His thoughts drifted to the usual routine. He’d swapped shifts, which resulted in watching the evening crowd trickle in, primarily corporate types and high-society guests, and Nanami managed the situation with his typical efficiency and calm demeanor.

But as he adjusted a bottle of whiskey on the back shelf, a familiar presence caught his eye.

You were back.

You entered with the same quiet confidence, this time fitted with a far more casual, sleek outfit paired with heels that clacked against the polished floor. 

Moving with ease, you slipped into the same seat as last time, your gaze meeting his immediately. Your lips curled into a slow smile, almost as if you knew he’d be expecting you. 

“Good evening," Kento greeted, his voice calm with a slight edge of anticipation. 

"Nanami," you replied, leaning forward. Your self-assured energy was hard to ignore. “It's a pleasure to see you tonight. I think I’m in the mood for something a bit more... complex.” 

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone dry but with an undertone of curiosity. “What are we talking about? A Negroni? Maybe a Vieux Carré?” 

You smiled a glint of challenge in your eye. “Surprise me.”

Kento studied you for a moment, then nodded and began his work. 

His movements were precise but fluid as he grabbed a bottle of mezcal and began crafting a Smoky Margarita, layering complex flavors—mezcal for smokiness, lime for sharpness, and a touch of agave to round it out, all topped off with a rim of chili salt. The drink was bold and nuanced, like the woman before him.

He placed the glass in front of you with hushed confidence, waiting for your reaction. 

With a slow sip, your lips brushed against the glass as your tongue sampled the salted rim. Eyes closed momentarily to savor the taste.

When you opened them, your gaze locked onto his. 

“Now this,” you leaned forward, "is much better.”

Kento leaned on the counter slightly, his smirk more visible this time. “Glad to hear it. Looks like I’m learning.”

“Seems like you’re a quick study.”

You held each other’s gaze, the air between thick with tension that had only grown since your last encounter. Your voice dropped to an intimate murmur, barely audible over the ambient music. “So, Nanami... what do you do when you’re not making perfect drinks?”

He raised an eyebrow, amused by the shift in your tone. “I don’t get much free time. I like structure with very little change. But I do have a break coming up.” 

Your smile widened, and there was a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Is that so? And what do you usually do on these breaks?” 

Kento straightened, glancing around the bar. The crowd was calm tonight, his usuals with a small group of beer drinkers. He certainly wasn’t going to be missed if he disappeared a little earlier than usual. “Not very much. But there’s a private spot upstairs. Quiet.” 

“Lead the way.”

Kento signaled for one of the other bartenders, wordlessly handing off duties as he made his way around the bar and approached you. You stood and walked alongside him through the bar.

Turning the corner without paying attention, an inattentive passerby bumped into Kento, a glass of what he could guess was whiskey now soaking the front of his shirt. “Holy shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

You pressed your lips together, smiling as Kento didn’t let the incident interrupt your determined ascent up the stairs. 

You didn’t speak as you made your way to a barrier, secluded alcove on the mezzanine floor—a quiet corner with a view of the city through tall windows, framed by rich drapes. The world outside was glittering and alive, but here, away from prying eyes, it felt like their own little escape.

Kento stopped near the window, turning to face you as the ambient glow of the city lights bathed them both in soft light. You stepped closer, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the full scent of whiskey that stuck to him. He unbuttoned his shirt, uncovering his lean torso and square pecs. 

“You have a talent for choosing the right spot.” You said, your voice lower now. 

“I don’t waste time.” He replied, his eyes locked on yours. 

You smirked, stepping even closer until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. “Efficient. I like that.”

Kento’s pulse quickened though his exterior remained composed. The heat of your presence never wavering as he watched your every move. 

You lightly brushed his arm, a deliberate move to see his reaction. 

“I knew you’d be interesting,” you uttered, your voice soft, teasing, but laced with something deeper. “I just didn’t know how interesting.”

Kento’s lips quirked into a small smile, one that carried more weight than any words he could say at that moment. “You’re not so predictable yourself.”

Your eyes locked. The city lights flickered around you, but neither of you noticed, too caught up in the magnetic pull of something new, something charged. 

You reached up, your hand brushing his collarbone. You licked his whiskey-flavored chest. You languidly licked up to his neck as he sucked in a sharp breath. "Hmm." You whispered while your lips hovered close to his. “I like a man who can keep up."

Nanami’s voice was steady, but there was a rough edge to it now. “I don’t plan on slowing down.”

With a final, knowing smile, he closed the gap between you. His lips brushed yours in a kiss more electric than the city lights below. 

“Nanami Kento.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“When you clock out, my room happens to be on the floor above this one.” You slid your room card into his pants pocket as his hand slid down, pressing you into him. 

Kento pushed you to the wall with a quick yet gentle motion, nudging his knee between your thighs. "You've surprised me."

“How so?" The sudden closeness brought a surge of anticipation bursting in your chest.

"I didn't take you for someone who would enjoy a bit of public play."

You rubbed your wetness on his knee, lost in thought. A simpering moan escaped you. "I don't know what you're talking about, Nanami."

Amused by your attempt to keep it together, he moved his knee forward to elicit another moan from you. "The dampness of my slacks says otherwise." He drowned out the sounds of the late-night rush with the pants he pulled from you.

"Tell me how to please you with precision and I'll follow every direction."

Thank you @/saradika-graphics for the dividers ✨

[miniwheat77]

Vanilla. (Detective!Graves x Reader.)

!violence, reader is injured, alcohol, blood, violence, smut, unprotected p in v sex, heed the warnings, you’ve been warned. NO MINORS!

“Graves, there’s a call on line one waiting for you.”

He nods his head as he walks in the door, he hasn’t even clocked in yet and there’s already something waiting for him. “Yeah they’re going to have to wait, I just got a call about a disturbance at the Lions Den.” His partner, Diane says.

“Where Summer is missing from?” He asks. She nods her head. “Alright, let’s go. Tell them I’ll call them back.” He nods to the receptionist.

Phillip Graves lives in a small town. The police station he works at has very few cops which means despite his title as a detective, he’s still going out on calls like this. This one is important though.

The Lions Den is a popular bar/club. It’s got its popularity because it’s within walking distance of the only college in town. It’s been popular for years and years. But recently, it’s become a concern. It was the last place Summer Pennington was ever seen. They’ve been investigating everything since it happened a couple weeks previously but they’ve run out of leads.

Hearing that there’s a disturbance there has Graves’ hair standing up. He hopes it’s nothing bad.

He pulls into the gravel parking lot and hurries out of his car. Both him and Diane making their way inside.

It looks normal. The cracked black marble floor is covered in people. Inebriated and dancing like there’s nothing going on. The lights are flashing and it’s a good 10 degrees hotter inside. He makes his way up to the bar. “Hey, we got a call about a disturbance?” He asks, he’s confused. “Oh! Right. Hold on.” The girl turns her back to him. “Y/N!” She calls.

A girl emerges and he swallows hard at her appearance.

She’s got her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and she’s got a tight black v-neck on. Which appears to be the outfit of choice for the bartenders. She fills it out well, and she’s real pretty. “Hi.” She says. She swallows hard, seemingly distressed but hiding it well. “A regular, he uh. He got mad because I had to cut him off and he hit me with a mug.” She shrugs. Only then does he see the blood beginning to trickle from her hair line.

A beer mug.

A fucking beer mug.

“He went out the back.”

Graves radios to Diane where the suspect went, giving her a description. Turning his attention back to you.

“Do you need me to call anyone? A beer mug is one hell of an object to get hit with.” He sits down at the bar. Seeing her smile. “Ah, it’s not my first time.” You laugh. He can see your eyes are drowsy. “I’ll be alright, thank you though.”

“Hey. While I’m here.” He sits up. “I talked to a couple of bartenders here a few months back about cameras outside, but they said they didn’t have access to them. Do you know who I could talk to about seeing those?” He asks. “Of course, that’s me actually.” You smile. You throw your towel down, making your way around the bar. He follows after you when you push through the crowd, entering a blacked out door in the back. You close it and the music is muffled. He can finally hear himself think. “This is about that girl right?” You ask. He nods his head. “Yeah, the one who went missing from here.” You nod your head, typing away at the computer. “Are you the owner?” He asks.

“Oh.. no. I just manage it.” You smile. “The owners.. they kinda helped me out when I was a teenager. I take care of the bar, they guarantee me a job. I was a troubled teen so they helped me get on my feet.” You explain.

He nods his head. “What day was it she went missing?” You look up at him. The way you look up at him through your lashes has blood pooling in his lower stomach. Your eyes pierce right through him. He clears his throat. “Uh.. April 24th.” He nods. “Someone last seen her around midnight.”

He nods his head. “Alright.”

He sees you digging through footage, pulling up the date he’s said. You open up the footage from that night. You drag the cursor over the little white bar at the bottom and he watches. You move it slow, and he watches the screen.

“There.” He mumbles. He moves in closer to you and you notice the smell of his cologne immediately, body going stiff from his close proximity. He gets eyes on Summer and the both of you watch the night unfold. She’s dancing, seemingly having a normal night until a girl and a guy come in. Summer seems to start trouble with the two, thus getting asked to leave. The three of them leave, going different ways. Summer disappears down the street and he watches her dark form disappear slowly. “So she didn’t go missing from here.” He sighs. “I remember them arguing that night.” You turn to look at him. “She called the guy Aaron. And I know for sure she was going to the college down the street, she’d been in here a couple times wearing the schools clothing.” You explain. “You mind coming down to the station? I’d like to get a statement.” He asks. “Yeah, sure.”

You stand up, following him out of the office. You make sure the bartenders don’t need any help before following him to his police car.

“I’ve got the suspect, he put up a good fight but I’m on my way back to the station with him.” Diane radios to him and he smiles.

—

“You want something to drink sweetheart?” He asks. “Oh.. no. I’m alright.” You smile. You’ve got a pretty smile.

He sits down across from you. A notebook and pen in his hand. As he sits, he can’t help but notice the smell of your perfume. It’s a mix of Vanilla and something he’s not familiar with. The scent invades his senses and he gets stoved up for a minute. He hates that you get him so foggy without even trying.

“Alright. So I’m just gonna ask a few questions and try to get through this as fast as possible. I don’t want to keep you.” He explains.

“So, Summer got into a disagreement and on the footage it seems like you’re the one who intervened, do you remember what it was about?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. I heard Summer getting upset with the two because Summer and the boy had dated previously and I guess she didn’t like seeing him with the girl he was with. His name was Aaron, and I’m pretty sure she said the girls name was Maddie, I’m not entirely sure but I think that’s what I heard.” You explain. He nods his head. “Summer was pretty drunk, started threatening the two so I asked her to leave and the other two left right with her.” He’s listening and writing notes down.

He asks a few more questions but when he’s done, he takes you back to the bar. He even stays behind, having a couple drinks before he went back to his job. It’s the thing about being a small town detective. Nobody can replace you.

He makes small talk with you, finding out that you live in a tiny apartment above the lions den itself which he thinks is cute. But he wants to know more about you.

When he leaves, he leaves his card with you. Letting you know that if you need anything at all, send him a text or give him a call.

———

It’s always you who cleans up at the end of the night. The other bartenders do a sub par job, but you can’t stand the smell of Vomit and Sweat. So almost every night, you’re up late scrubbing the floors. This night though, is different.

It’s just reached two in the morning, the lions den closes at one.

You’re sweeping beneath the tables and that’s when something shiny catches your eye. A silver snake skin handbag. Without thinking, you pick it up and throw it down on the table. Finishing sweeping.

Once you’re happy with the way the floors look, you turn your attention back to the handbag. Lifting it back up. Maybe the contents inside would help you get a name. You unzip it and look inside. There’s a few old cards and receipts. You find a drivers license, pulling it out. Chills shoot down your spine when you see her photo. The name on the ID reads ‘Summer Pennington’

It wouldn’t seem so chilling, but since you lived just above the bar and cleaned these floors every single night.

Someone had to have placed it there.

You make sure the door is locked before digging your phone out of your pocket, making your way into the office where you had placed his card.

You lift it up, typing the numbers into the keypad on your phone and ringing him.

You only hope he’ll pick up this late.

“Hello?”

His voice is hoarse and he’s got a morning voice going. If the situation weren’t so dire, you’d probably find it somewhat attractive.

“Sorry to bother you so late detective..” you breathe. “But I’ve just found Summers handbag. And it wasn’t here last night.” He perks up when he hears it. “Alright. Lions den?” He asks. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in 5 sweetheart.”

The pet name leaves his lips before he can stop himself and he hangs up before he embarrasses himself any further. He gets out of his bed and throws on a pair of jeans. He’d usually dress up but since it’s so late, he doesn’t think much of it. He grabs his keys off of the table by his door and makes his way out to his car. The cold air nips at his skin, he should’ve put on a jacket. He climbs into his car, starting it and speeding out of the driveway to get to the Lions Den. Theres no more time to waste.

He speeds the entire way there, luckily it’s not too far from his house. He pulls into the parking lot and parks his car right in front of the doors, climbing out of his car. He walks right inside. Seeing you cleaning behind the bar. “Hey. It’s right there. I put everything back and left it alone.” You breathe. “Are you sure it hasn’t been here this whole time?” He asks. You shake your head. “No, I scrub these floors almost every night, I would’ve seen it.” He nods his head. He makes his way over to the purse, thinking of who he should call this late. “If someone put it there, it had to have been seen on the cameras right?” He asks. You nod your head. You make your way around the bar, walking toward the office in the back. He follows right behind you. You sit down at the desk, typing away at the computer. He waits impatiently.

Once you’ve got the footage pulled up, you’re both watching the screen like hawks. Eyeballing the table where you found her handbag.

You see nothing after a few minutes, but than a gleam catches your eye.

“It’s there.” You mumble, pulling the tab back over the white line.

You watch a man enter the doors and make his way right to the table. Sitting down there for just a second before standing up and making his way to the bar. Graves sees his face and scoffs. “Aaron.”

“Aaron put it there.”

He shakes his head. “Alright. I’m going to take her handbag and head the station first thing in the morning. You make sure to lock up after me alright?” He looks at you. Seeing you nod your head.

You’ve got a bare face. All of your makeup is washed off and your hair is tied back. You’ve got more comfortable clothes on as well. He has to tear his eyes away from you. Saying goodbye as he leaves out the door. He knows there isn’t much he can do right now, not until he has Diane with him. But he can at least scope out where Aaron lives. He unlocks his car and climbs inside. Waiting a second to make sure you lock yourself inside the building. He takes a deep breath, lifting up his laptop and typing in Aaron’s in the police database.

Unfortunately the list is long, for such a small town there’s a lot of Aaron’s who commit crimes.

It takes him a few minutes of scrolling before he comes across a photo of Aaron and figures out he got arrested a few weeks back for domestic abuse.

The chilling part?

The girl was Summer.

How did they not know this when she went missing?

He shakes his head. Digging further and further in until he figures out his last known address and he decides to scope the place out for the night. Making sure to stop by the 24 hour coffee shop. Thank god for Coffee.

He parks on the street a couple houses down, recognizing the vehicle out front. He seen it at the Lions den the other night.

He doesn’t see anything for a couple hours and gets bored. Deciding to search more people through the database. The only way they’ll appear is if they’ve been arrested and fingerprinted.

He briefly remembers you saying you used to be a troubled teen, so he types in your name. Surprised when you appear high up on the list. Your mugshot is clearly a photo of you while you’re inebriated. He can tell by the sly smile and bloodshot eyes. He sees that you’ve been arrested for couple of small things. Public intoxication, probation violations, a couple from fighting. He laughs to himself. You seem so well put together for someone who’s got such a bad track record. But he can tell these charges are old. It’s been quite some time since your last arrest.

Once six am rolls around, he’s dialing Diane first thing and getting a warrant for Aaron’s house.

It’s late afternoon when they finally have it, and they load up the squad car. Graves drives and Diane is in the passenger seat. They don’t know how this is going to go, so they prepare for the worst. Wearing vests and planning to be as careful as possible. Graves pulls right into the driveway and they both move quickly. Getting out of the car and making their way up to the front door. Graves knocks normally, and is surprised when Aaron opens the door. “What the hell?” He gasps. Raising his hands up immediately. “Keep your hands where I can see them Aaron. Don’t do anything crazy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Summer has been missing for the last couple months. Do you know anything about that?” He asks, moving to handcuff Aaron. “What? Of course not!”

“Than why were you at the Lions Den last night? Hm? We have you on video staging her handbag in there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Diane. Load him up, I’m going to look around.”

Diane nods her head. Graves keeps his gun drawn, just in case there’s any more people he needs to look out for. He makes his way through the entire house and it’s clean, but he discovers that there’s a basement.

He opens up the door, and it’s pitch black down there. He makes his way down the stairs, flicking on a light switch when he sees one. What he sees inside has his heart falling into his stomach. He can see a woman slumped over, she’s handcuffed to a pipe. He rushes over to her, checking to see if she has a pulse. She shrinks away from his touch and he inhales a deep breath, thank god. He tilts her head to get a good look at her and realizes that it’s Summer.

He’s found her.

He calls for backup immediately and Diane takes Aaron down to the station. He’s not getting out of this one.

“Hey. It’s alright.”

Summer finally starts to stir, she’s clearly drugged.

“I’m detective Phillip Graves, I’m here to get you out of here.” He breathes. He unlocks the handcuffs and lifts her up. He has to get her out.

———

It takes a few days for everything to settle.

Summer is in the hospital recovering, Aaron is locked up tight behind bars.

Graves hasn’t spoken to you, but he figures he will now.

The case is sure to hit the news anytime now, it’s alright if you’re the first to find out.

“Hey. That cute detective is out at the bar asking for you.” Another bartender comes into the office. You laugh. “You can send him back here.” You roll your eyes. She disappears from the doorway and a moment later, he’s knocking gently at the frame. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi. Everything okay?” You ask. “Yeah, yeah. Everything is great.” He closes the door. “Actually wanted to come let you know that we found Summer.”

“Seriously?” You look up at him. “Yeah. She’s alive, just recovering.”

“That’s.. wow. That’s awesome.” You breathe. “How did you find her?”

“Got a warrant for Aaron’s house, he had her locked up in his basement.”

“Jesus Christ, seriously? What a psycho!” You breathe. “Yeah. But he’s off the streets. He’s going to prison for a while and she’s recovering.”

You smile. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, and I wanted to come say thanks. Your cameras and cooperation have been the sole reason we were able to solve this.”

“Well. If you want to stay for a drink, we close in about 10 minutes.” You smile. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“I was going to come sooner but I just got off work.” He laughs. “Been doing paperwork in my office.”

“Boy I felt that one.” You laugh, slapping a hand down onto the stack of paperwork you’ve got sitting on the desk.

The both of you make small talk for a while, until the bar officially closes and all of the employees have left. Not before giving you grief about leaving you alone with a man of course. Lots of winks as they walked out the door. You made sure to lock it after them. You pour him a drink, and make small talk with him while you clean. When you finish, you stand on the other side of the bar and he takes in your appearance. Apron and that black v-neck you usually wore.

“You know.. it really pissed me off the first time I came in here. Hearing that guy hit you with a fucking beer mug.”

You laugh, looking down. “Yeah.. I wasn’t too happy when he hit me with it, trust me.” You laugh. He smiles. “Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t too kind to him when we brought him in.” You smile. “Do you have anything at all to protect yourself in here?” You smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You laugh.

“I would yeah.”

You smile, reaching down just beneath you, raising up the little cubby. You can feel the cool metal on your hand, raising it up and setting it on top of the bar. Making sure the barrel is pointed away from him. “Damn.” He laughs. “All my bartenders are trained to use it. Nobody knows it’s back here.” You pull it back. “Better stay that way.” You narrow your eyes at him, seeing him smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I have another in my apartment upstairs. But.. that stays up there just in case.”

He laughs.

“You know. You’re a real pretty girl.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, looking down. “For a heathen.”

You look up at him, through your eyelashes. “I don’t think you know the half of it, Detective Graves.”

“I think your file told me everything I needed to know about you.” He brings the glass of whiskey up to his lips. “You looked me up?” You laugh. “Maybe. Hey, as far as I was concerned you were a suspect.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like excuses. If you wanted to know so bad you could’ve asked.” You lean over the bar. His eyes flicker to your chest for just a second. You don’t miss it.

“Must be pretty interested if you’re looking me up.” You make your way around the bar, going to sit next to him but he grasps your arm. He slides off of the bar stool. “Yeah. Maybe I am.” He laughs. He pins you between him and the bar, the wood digging into your back. “But you don’t seem to have much of a problem with that. Don’t see you trying to get away.”

You smile, eyes moving to his lips and back to his eyes. “Didn’t want to.”

“You’re bold.” He laughs. Sliding his hand onto your hip, leaning in. “So you won’t mind if I…” he pushes your hair behind your ear. “Just kiss me.” You roll your eyes, grasping his tie. You pull him into you and his lips are finally on yours. He moves both of his hands to rest at your hips as he kisses you, pulling you into him more. He glides his hand lower on your hips and pulls you into him, his front pressed firmly up against yours. He’s a good kisser.

He glides his tongue over your lip, he wants more.

You pull his bottom lip between your teeth and tug gently, feeling him growing hard against you. You rut your thigh into his growing erection and he groans into your lips.

“You sure you want to do this?” He breathes. You bite your own lip, nodding your head. “I can take you up to my apartment. Come on.” You breathe. You grasp his hand, leading him to the back of the bar and up the stairs to your apartment door. You unlock it, stepping inside. He follows in behind you, smiling. It’s a lot nicer than he expected it to be, for being above a dive bar anyways. You keep it nice inside. He chooses to say nothing, as soon as he closes the door he’s pouncing on you again. He’s got his lips on yours and he’s lifting you up, you wrap your legs around his waist and he starts walking toward the hallway where he assumes your bedroom is, guessing correctly. He nudges the first door open with his foot and sees it’s your bedroom and it’s just as well kept. Your bed is made and it’s spotless inside, too bad he’s gonna wreck the bed.

He drops you onto your bed, forcing your legs apart and moving himself between them, grasping the bottom of your shirt and helping you pull it over your head.

His tugs his off immediately after, reaching for his belt.

You push your own pants down your legs, kicking them off. He exposes himself, his pants still sitting at his mid thigh. He moves up onto the bed more, hovering over you. “You look good like this.” He breathes. “Gonna look even better when I’m done with you.” He smirks, lining himself up with your entrance.

You gasp as he slides into you, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. He laughs at the gasp you let out at the intrusion. “Fuck.. you’re tight baby.” He hisses. He raises your thighs up slightly, getting a better angle to reach deeper inside of you. You cry out as he slides right into your spongy spot. Your thighs start to shake. “F-fuck.” You shiver. “You’re really good at this.” You whine out. He can’t help but laugh. “You’ve never had good experiences have you?”

You look up at him, crimson creeping up your cheeks. “No.” You shake your head. You’re still breathing heavier than you were before, which tells him you’re getting overwhelmed which is exactly what he wants. It’s been a while for Phillip but that means nothing. He’ll never forget how to please a woman, he knows exactly what to do. He can read you, and tell what you’re going to like. He doesn’t have all that much experience either but he doesn’t forget. He slides out of you, bringing your thigh over the other until you’re slightly on your side. He slides back into you, giving him a good angle for better access to that spot inside of you, he knows you wont last long like this.

He rests his chest into your back, his breath warm over your ear. “Nothing wrong with that sweetheart.” He chuckles. Chills rise on your skin from him talking right next to your ear. “But I’m gonna change that for you, so just try to relax.” He’s rutting his hips into you and you’re panting slightly. Waiting.

He draws his hips back and thrusts into you, he laughs when your lips part in surprise. He can still smell your vanilla perfume on you. Eyes rolling back as he feels that knot forming in his stomach. “You feel so fucking good baby, so good.” He grits his teeth, eyes screwed shut at he keeps rutting into you, hips moving with yours perfectly. Your thighs shiver, moans flowing from your lips like a river. He’s got you right where he wants you. You’re right on the brink, the warmth building more and more with each draw of his hips. You take in a jagged breath and with one more thrust into that spot inside of you, the tightness unravels, warmth spreading through you. You throb around him as you reach your high, crying out. You flinch away from him, sweet spot abused and sensitive from his perfect thrusts.

He grasps your leg, pulling you back into the missionary position you were in before.

He hisses, clutching your hips hard and taking a couple of extra hard thrusts. He slides out of you just as he reaches the brink. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pumps quickly until he’s coating you in his cum. The warm thick ropes have you flinching slightly. Coating your skin on your lower stomach. He laughs once he’s come down from his high. “Fuck.. didn’t expect this tonight.” He sighs. He moves himself until he’s lying next to you.

You’re quiet still. He notices immediately, turning to look at you. Your eyes are slightly wider than before, pupils still blown out. “Hey, you alright?” He tilts your chin to look at him. “Uh- yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” You shake yourself out of the daze he’s put you in. “You sure?” He laughs. “Yeah- I’ve just never… been touched like that before.” You laugh. “What, never cum during sex?” He jokes. “No.”

He pauses. “Really?”

You bite your lip, nervously nodding your head.

“Ah well. Doesn’t matter now cause I’m here.” He laughs. “Was I too rough?” He props his head up onto his hand, his elbow resting on the bed. “No, not at all.” You breathe.

“I don’t usually do this, how about you let me take you on a proper date?” He smiles. You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you’d ask that after this.” You giggle. Seeing his lips rise into a smile. “Course not. You’re a pretty girl, deserve nice things.” He leans into you, kissing your lips once more.

He stands up, asking where to find a towel to clean you up.

When he’s helped you clean up and you’ve returned your clothes to where they belong, you decide to ask.

“Do you think Summer will be okay?” You ask.

He sighs. “I think she’ll have some trauma from all of this, but I think she’ll be okay. Yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m glad you found her. I was so worried. I had a brand new schedule in the works just in case it was some kind of freak just kidnapping girls.” You sigh. “Really?” He asks. “Yeah, figured if we closed a little earlier the college girls would get home sooner and my girls could get out of here.” He smiles. “You’re a good girl you know that?” He smiles.

“I’m a troubled girl.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be good. Without you we never would’ve found out what happened to Summer. You have to give yourself some more credit here, you’re a smart girl.” He laughs. “I knew I liked you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He smirks. Seeing your roll your eyes.

“Yeah well, I think you got what you wanted, Detective Graves.”

“Got what I wanted and more, sweetheart.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 9: I Promise

Summary: You agree to go to the Laredo Sheriff's Department's annual summer picnic. When Javi's co-workers bring up an unexpected topic of conversation, Javi begins to learn more about your life before Laredo.

Word Count: 11.5K (Is it bad I'm impressed with myself that this isn't longer?!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), shower sex, period sex, creampie, praise, masturbation (f), talk of drug use/overdose, grief/loss, PTSD (reader has a panic attack), drinking/alcohol (reader also gets a lil tipsy), mentions of food/eating, Javi's co-workers being assholes (not Carter and Miller, we love them), Javi being protective of you, Javi just wanting to give you every ounce of his love because he cares about you more than life itself

A/N: Okay y'all. I had to do it. I want nothing more for Osita and Javi to live in a world of sunshine and rainbows where they are nothing but happy all the time, but, sigh, that is not how life works. Osita's got some things Javi needs to learn about her past, and it's happening, whether we like it or not. This chapter really does have it all- pool parties, trauma, Jell-O shots, Javi talking about babies (I'm screaming too, it's okay), you name it, it's probably in there. Also, Osita's brother Patrick is inspired by sweet Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier because UGH. ALRIGHT, STRAP IN YOUR SEATBELTS AND ENJOY THE RIDE!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“C’mon, Peña, you gotta come, you’re like, the only guy in our whole department who hasn’t RSVP’d yet.” 

“Seriously, man. It actually is a good time. Free food, free booze, hanging out at Morris’s pool all day? All the other guys bring their wives and girlfriends, too, so you can even bring your girl, if you want.” 

It had been almost two weeks since the flier for the annual Laredo Sheriff's Department Picnic landed on Javi’s desk. It had also been about two weeks that Agent Carter and Agent Miller had spent every day harassing Javi about coming to the party, claiming it to be one of their favorite days of the summer ever since they started working for the department a few years back. 

“Yeah? And who are you two idiots bringing?” Javi scoffed, shuffling through the folders on his desk as Carter and Miller leaned in the doorway to his office. 

“Low blow there, Peña, but okay.” Carter grimaced as he put his hands on his hips. “Listen, just think about it, okay? 

“Just RSVP before tomorrow or Barb is gonna lose her mind if she doesn’t know exactly how much Potato Salad to make. I told her that you’d tell her by then, and I don’t need another reason to be on her shitlist.” Javi and Carter shook their heads at Miller, not understanding how he was constantly finding ways to piss off the receptionists in the front office. 

“Fine. I’ll let her know by tomorrow.” Javi responded, not looking up from his paperwork. “Now, don’t you idiots have anything better to do than stand in my office?” 

Carter and Miller gave each other a quick high five, finally working at least a somewhat definitive answer out of their boss before they headed back to their desks, finally giving Javi a moment of peace. 

Javi sighed as he pulled the brightly colored flier out of his desk drawer, staring at it for a few seconds before setting it down on top of one of the manilla folders, running his hands through his hair. Social gatherings had never been his thing. To be honest, he really hated them. During his time in Colombia, the best he could normally muster was occasionally getting a drink at the bar, dreading the small talk, politics and ass kissing of every conversation. All he really wanted to do was sit by himself and drink enough to ease the pain and misery he felt with each day that passed in that God forsaken country. But he had to remind himself that this wasn’t Colombia anymore. His days of drowning his loneliness in liquor were behind him. Even when the sting of his time away haunted him, he had to remind himself of the life he now had in front of him. 

You. 

He had you. You had taken his world and turned it around. When he looked at you, he saw a life of everything he had ever wanted and never thought he’d have. You’d given him a chance at a future. If you’d asked him a little over a month and a half ago if he ever saw himself settling down, he would have probably laughed in your face. But now? The thought of you as his wife? A mom? To his children? A family that the two of you would build together? He’d marry you today and give you a football team’s worth of kids, if that’s what you wanted.

Fuck, he hoped that’s what you wanted. 

He would have let himself play out the rest of that fantasy in his head for as long as he could, if it wasn’t for the grumble in his stomach, loud enough to snap him out of his daydreaming. Javi looked up at the clock, realizing he had worked his way almost an hour past his lunch. Lately, he’d had the luxury of spending practically every night at your apartment, you insisting that you wake up with him every morning and make him breakfast and lunch before he went off to work.  Even though he had stayed over last night, he practically had to force you to stay in bed this morning, trying to tell him that your headache wasn’t even that bad after you practically winced in pain when he turned on the light to get himself ready. He’d promised you that he’d be just fine going out to get lunch today, and that he’d call during his break to check in on you. 

Pulling back up to the parking lot of the station after stopping at Alejandro’s Deli to pick up a sandwich (and extra chips and a cookie for you when he came home), Javi opened up his cell phone to call you, taking a bite of his lunch while the dial tone rang. 

“Hi, Jav.” Your voice instantly spreading a smile across his face. 

“Hey, Osita. You feelin’ any better?” 

“Yeah, a little I guess. I’m an idiot, I should have known this was gonna happen.” 

Javi scrunched his face in confusion. “What? How were you supposed to know you were gonna have a headache this morning?” 

“I uh…” You paused for a second, letting out a huff of nervous laughter. “I uh, I totally forgot I started my period today. I always get really bad headaches when they first start, and considering it happens every month, you’d think I’d remember, but apparently not. Makes sense why I cried at that commercial of the dog getting adopted yesterday.” You both laughed, it now making a lot more sense to Javi why you had seemed a little off the past few days. “I um… I know you were gonna come over after work today, but, um, don’t feel like you have to.” 

He paused, trying to read the tone in your voice. “What do you mean? Do you not want me to come over?” 

“No, I do, sorry, it’s just- If you’re weirded out by it cause you think it’s gross or whatever, I understand-” 

“Hermosa.” He interjected, cutting you off. 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s not gross, and I’m not weirded out by it. It’s totally normal, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m still planning on coming over tonight unless you tell me otherwise. I’ll pick up dinner and we can hang out and watch a movie together, sound good?” 

“O-okay.” He could practically hear the relief in your voice through the other end of the phone. 

“I gotta head back in to work, but I’ll call you when I’m leaving and you can tell me what you want for dinner and if you need me to pick anything else up for you, okay?” 

“Okay. Thanks, Javi. You’re the best. Have a good rest of your day. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Osita. Bye.” 

I love you. God, it never got old. 

 

Knock, knock, knock. 

You were glad to hear the familiar tapping of Javi’s knuckles against your apartment door, the promise of his presence bringing you joy in what otherwise had been a pretty miserable day, considering how terrible you felt. 

“It’s unlocked!” You yelled from the couch, curled way too deep in your blanket with your heating pad to bother getting up. 

“Baby, you really shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, makes me nervous when you’re here all by yourself.” Javi grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door before setting down all the things he was carrying in his hands on the kitchen table. 

“Sorry, Mr. Safety. You know I normally do, I really just didn’t want to get up if I didn’t have to.” You replied sheepishly. Even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, it didn’t take you long to figure out that Javi was incredibly overprotective of you. He knew how stubborn you were, and that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, but that didn’t stop him from double checking all the locks in your apartment before you went to bed, or making sure that you told him if you going out somewhere so he didn’t worry if he called your apartment and you didn’t pick up. Was it a little much? Yes. But did it absolutely melt your heart knowing he cared so much about you? Also yes. 

You popped your head over the couch to see Javi in the kitchen with 2 different grocery bags, a pizza, a McDonalds’ bag, and flowers. “Javi, what the hell did you get?” You laughed as he stood at the table, unpacking the items. 

“Well, I got two different types of tampons because I wasn’t sure which ones you prefer, a box of Midol, a Twix bar, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, a bag of potato chips- the wavy kind because apparently those ones taste better, pizza for us for dinner and McDonalds french fries for you, because even though you said you only wanted pizza on the phone, you still brought up the french fries like 4 goddamn times. And flowers, just because.” 

When Javi had called to tell you he was leaving work and asked what you wanted for dinner or if there was anything else he could pick up for you, your only answer was that you just wanted pizza and that maybe fries also sounded good, but not to worry about it. You hadn’t asked him to get you anything else, and yet, he showed up to your apartment with all of your favorite snacks, pain meds, flowers and tampons. It didn’t help that you were already emotional, feeling yourself on the brink of tears realizing just how much Javi cared about you. Jesus, this man was too good to you. 

“Jav, you didn’t have to get all this. Thank you. God, I love you.” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything you need, just let me know, okay? I love you, too. You hungry?” 

“Absolutely. Tell that to the sleeve of Oreos I already crushed earlier today.” You both snickered as Javi put away the rest of the groceries and changed out of his work clothes before bringing you both over a plate of pizza to the couch, yours with extra fries. “Thanks for still wanting to come over tonight.” You said gently, shuffling over to snuggle next to Javi on the couch, leaning against his shoulder as you took a bite of your dinner. 

“Osita, you don’t need to thank me. I just want to be here for you, whatever it is that you need. I just feel bad you have to go through all this shit.” 

“Just another one of the wonderful perks of being a woman!” You rolled your eyes, sarcastically, taking a bite of your fries. “To be honest, there is a tiny bit of me that was relieved today. Not that I don’t trust it or that I don’t take it religiously, but phew, my birth control has really been working overtime this past month, so I’m glad to know you didn't beat it. ” You both quietly laughed to yourselves, Javi swallowing before taking another bite of his pizza. He was quiet for a moment, but you could practically hear the wheels turning in his brain, like he was calculating his words before he spoke. Little did you know, at that moment, his head was flooded with his thoughts from earlier today, imagining the life you two could have together, if you’d let him. Maybe there was a subconscious part of his brain that wished he had beaten your birth control, because you were both a little unprepared for the next sentence that came stumbling out of his mouth. 

“Would you, uh, do you, um, not right now, but do you… Do you ever want kids?”  He looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath before turning back to you, anxiously waiting for your response. 

Oh fuck me. As if you weren’t already enough of a hormonal mess, the thought of Javi as a dad? Little baby Peñas? Oh God, you could practically feel your ovaries bursting at the seams. You’d be blatantly lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about it, but hearing him be the first one to say it out loud? Oh boy. You fought with everything in you to not burst out in an ear to ear grin, trying to mentally compose yourself before answering the question. “Um, yeah, I do. I always have. Like you said, not right now, but yes. I- I do. Do you? Want kids?” You looked over at Javi, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, his cheeks red and face flustered.  

“I um, I used to, before Lorraine and Colombia, and uh, those both kinda fucked me up for a while. I just kinda figured it wasn’t in the cards for me anymore.” His gaze shifted towards the ground again, staring there for a moment before shifting back to you, his sweet brown eyes locking with yours, the softest smile gently spreading across his lips. “I didn’t think I would anymore, but uh, things are… things are different now. I do, too. I definitely do.” 

“Okay. Good to know.” You didn’t even bother trying to hide your smile this time, the best you could do was bite down on your tongue inside your mouth to try and keep you from grinning like a complete idiot. You nestled closer into Javi, pressing your head against his chest, smirking to yourself at how fast you could feel his heart racing as you leaned into him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, placing a long, soft kiss on the top of your head as you both sat there for a moment in blissful silence. 

“Sooooooo, what movie do you want to watch?” You asked, trying as hard as you could to not spontaneously combust from the conversation the two of you just had. 

“Your pick, Osita.” 

“Return of the Jedi?” You smirked, knowing how much Javi had been dying to watch it since you showed him The Empire Strikes Back a few weeks ago. 

“I was hoping that’d be the one you’d pick.” He got up excitedly, shuffling through the VHS tapes under your TV before pushing it into the VHS player and hitting play. He repositioned himself on the couch so you could lay your head down on his thigh as he rubbed your back. “So, don’t feel like you have to, but uh, the department is throwing their annual picnic thing next weekend. I’m not sure if I wanna go, but if I did, would you wanna come with me? Sounds like it’s kind of a big thing, Miller and Carter have been on my ass about it since I’m supposed to RSVP by tomorrow.” 

“Well number one, I think you should go, if Carter and Miller are being that big of a pain in the ass about it, it has to be at least a little fun, right? I’ve never met them, but from what you’ve told me, they seem like they enjoy having a good time. Number two, I would absolutely love to come with you. I think it would be really nice to meet your co-workers. Or I guess, technically re-meet some of them if they came to present at school before you did.” 

“You mean you didn’t purposely trip into them to get their attention, too?” He chuckled, thinking back to the first time you had met. 

“Oh shut up, I did not trip on purpose!” You playfully nudged the leg you were resting your head on. “I just happened to be very lucky that you were incredibly handsome and charming, and were nice enough not to let me fall and embarrass myself in front of the entire 3rd grade.” 

“Whatever you say, Osita.” 

“Oh just shhhh and watch the movie, you meanie.” 

About halfway through the film, belly full of pizza, french fries and half the Twix bar Javi had gotten you, you could feel yourself getting sleepy. You were now laying on top of Javi, your face on his chest and his arm on top of your back, fingers running back and forth across your shoulder blades. You felt so warm and comfortable pressed up against him, it wasn’t long before you could feel your lids beginning to droop, your blinks becoming slow and heavy before your eyes finally closed, shortly followed by the sounds of your soft snores against Javi’s chest. It had become very apparent to Javi that no matter what movie or TV show you picked to watch, if you were cuddled up against him, you were out like a light in no time. To be honest, he didn’t even care. There were few things in the world he loved more than you lying against him, falling asleep wrapped in his embrace. He truly hoped he’d get to spend the rest of his life explaining the second half of every movie you missed while you were fast asleep in his arms. 

Mmmmmhmmmm, Javi… 

Oh, fuck, babyyyy 

It feels so good….

Ahhhhhhhh, please-

“Ahg! Fuck!” You shot up in your bed, grasping at your sheets, your breathing heavy and labored as your eyes sprung open, greeted by the darkness of your bedroom. You paused for a moment, grounding yourself, shaking your head as you scrunched your face tightly before opening your eyes once more, looking over to find Javi still sound asleep next to you. 

Fuck, it was a dream. A good one at that, holy shit. 

You ran your hands through your hair, taking a few more deep breaths as you found yourself now wide awake, and very horny. You peeked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, finding that it was still a good thirty minutes before Javi usually got up for work. If you weren’t on your period, you probably would have just woken up Javi to help relieve how worked up you had gotten from your dream- It wouldn’t have been the first time, and he certainly wouldn’t have been mad about it. But this was the first time you had been on your period since you started dating him. For as amazing as he was, there was one fact that you weren’t going to put past him. He was still a guy. Every guy that you had dated before him had all felt the same, and you assumed he would too- That he would wait for your period to be finished before wanting anything to do with, well, down there. That left you with two choices. 

Be an absolute horny mess until he left for work and then take care of yourself, which would probably still be another 2 to 3 hours from now. 

Take an extra early shower and take care of yourself before he wakes up 

Yeah, it was gonna have to be option two. 

Very quietly sneaking yourself out of bed, praying that Javi didn’t wake up for at least a little while longer, you tiptoed out of the bedroom, gently closing the bathroom door behind you as you turned on the shower. Besides it being fairly spacious for an apartment, another huge perk of your bathroom was the detachable shower head installed in your shower. Considering how much fun you and Javi have had together in the past month and a half, it had been a while since it had been put to use for its non-intended purposes. Once the water was warm enough, you stepped over the ledge of the tub, giving yourself a quick rinse before grabbing the shower head off the wall and bringing it between your legs. The jets of warm water splashing against your already throbbing clit were enough to at least start to ease some of the ache that was pooling in between your thighs, even though you desperately wished it was Javi who was helping you to relieve your neediness. You closed your eyes, reaching back for the memory of your dream that had woken you up just a few minutes ago, picturing Javi bending you over your couch as he plowed into you, over and over. You began to fidget the shower head in your hand, the water spraying back and forth against your sensitive nerves, feeling the heat begin to pool in your belly. 

“Mhmmmm, fuck, Javi…” You whispered to yourself, the image of him fucking you deeply and intensely overtaking your brain. You could feel yourself edging closer to you high, your breathing becoming deeper as you imagined him whispering those filthy, sweet nothings into your ear that he knew made you absolutely crumble. You were so consumed by the thought, that you hadn’t heard Javi get out of bed, had definitely not heard him as he opened the bathroom door, and were absolutely unaware of the fact he was now also wide awake and coming to check on why you were showering at 6:00 AM. 

“Hey, baby, is everything o- Oh.” He stopped himself midway through opening the shower curtain, realizing what he had just walked in on. 

“AH, Jesus Christ, Javi!” You screeched, dropping the shower head to the ground as you grabbed at the cool tiles of your shower wall to try and keep you from falling over. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” You panted, trying to catch your breath, scrambling to put the shower head back up in its rightful position. 

“Sorry, I uh, I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed and heard the shower on, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” His face now a mixture of confusion and suspicion. 

“No, yeah, um, I’m fine, just um, you know, just, uh…” 

Think you idiot, think! You have to at least try to come up with a reason before you die of embarrassment.  

“Baby, it’s okay, talk to me. What’s going on?” Those stupid puppy dog eyes. When he looked at you like he was right now, no secret was going to be left untold. 

“Fuck. No, I’m fine, it’s just…. Fuck this is so embarrassing. I just, I had this dream and I woke up really horny, but I knew you weren’t gonna wanna do anything because I was on my period so I figured that-” 

“Hermosa…” He chuckled, taking off his boxers and tossing them on the floor before stepping into the shower with you. “When I told you if you needed anything, I meant it. This included.” He stepped closer to you, reaching down to grab your ass and nip at your neck leaving you stunned, trying to think of what to say next. 

“But, it’s just that, I just figured… Every other guy I’ve been with-” He placed a long, hot kiss on your neck before mouthing at your jaw, and whispering in your ear, the rasp of his voice making you shutter. 

“Well I’m not every other guy you’ve been with, am I? If you want it, sweet girl, you’ll get it. All you have to do is ask.” His hand snaked down your front, reaching under to rub his fingers against your already painfully sensitive clit, as you let out a pitiful whimper. 

“Javi…” 

“Just ask, baby. Ask me and I’ll give it to you.” He began to trace his fingers in slow, lazy circles around your mound, savoring every second of how already worked up you were. 

“Javi, I want you to fuck me. Please I want you to fuck me so bad.” You burried your head into the crook of Javi’s shoulder as you moaned. 

“There you go, Osita. That’s all you had to do. Hands on the wall, pretty girl.” You quickly complied, turning around so your arms pressed up against the tile, your back arched towards Javi as the warm spray of the shower hit your body. Javi stood behind you, one hand resting on your hip as he used his feet to nudge your legs open just a little further, the other stroking himself before feeling his tip slide against your folds. “Jesus, fuck me, you’re already so wet, Hermosa. What were you dreaming about that’s got you so worked up, huh?” He groaned, collecting your juices along his cock as he traced his length along your heat. 

“You, Javi. Fuck, I dreamed that you were fucking me and bending me over the couch, God, it felt so good.” You babbled, your brain short circuiting as he continued to run up and down you, your cunt clenching around nothing as you desperately waited for him to fill you. 

“Christ, Osita. Gonna have to save that one for later, aren’t we? How do you want it, baby? Wanna make sure you feel good.” He nipped at your shoulder as you could feel him lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Hard. Fuck, I want you to fuck me so hard, please.” You were almost on your knees begging at this point, you needed him so badly. 

“You sure that’s what you want, sweet girl?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he finally pushed into you, taking you no time to adjust to his size with how worked up you already were. You finally felt him bottom out, his pelvis pressed against your ass, as he waited for you to respond. 

“Yes, yes, I need you Javi, I need you so bad.” Those were the last words you could find before you felt him pull all the way out before pounding back into you, making you cry out as you felt him brush against your cervix, every inch of him splitting you open. He quickly set his pace, fast and deep as he snapped into, each thrust making you whimper from the sweet stretch of how he filled you. The walls of the bathroom were rapidly covered with the obscene sounds of your moans and skin smacking against each other, drowning out the noise of the running water from the shower head above you. 

“Is this what you want, baby? Taking my dick like the good girl you are, letting me fuck you like this?” He gritted his words through his teeth as he rammed into you at a punishing pace, leaving you an absolute mess. His fingertips dug further into the soft flesh of your hips before freeing one of his hands to wrap around your front, thumbing at your clit. 

“Javiiiii, yes, fuckkkk, fuck.” You whined. The way he was pounding into you was making your vision go white, leaving you barely hanging by a thread as he wrapped his hand around your chest, pulling you to stand as he palmed at your breast. You could feel the tingle at the base of your spine building, your pussy beginning to flutter as his fingers ran faster and faster over your clit, his cock driving into, filling you completely. You could feel your legs begin to shake as sweet nothings fell from your lips, falling apart underneath him. “Fuck, Javi, I’m gonna, Ohmygodohmygodahhhhhhh.” You screamed out as you came undone, hitting your high with a rush of pleasure, Javi’s grasp around you the only thing keeping you from falling to the shower floor. With only a few more thrusts deep inside you, Javi followed suit, grunting as he spilled deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his seed covered every inch of your walls. Catching his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, as you gasped at the loss, legs shaking as Javi released his grasp around you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You swallowed as you sat down on the edge of the tub, laughing to yourself. “You fucked me so good I don’t think my legs work anymore.” Javi joined in your laugher, extending out his hand to pull you back up to stand, cupping your face as he engulfed you in a deep, tender kiss. 

“Then my work here is done.” 

He winked at you as you rolled your eyes and playfully poked at his chest before he was peppering your wet body with the soft sweet pecks of his lips, spending the rest of your shower in a much better mood than when you entered it. 

 “Are you sure people are actually wearing bathing suits to this thing, or am I gonna show up looking like an idiot?” You shouted from your bedroom at Javi, who had been waiting for you in the kitchen after packing up the pasta salad you had offered to bring to the Sheriff’s Department Picnic today. 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m sure. It says it on the flier- pool party, bring a swimsuit. I’m also in my bathing suit as we speak, so I can guarantee you will not be the only one there in one.” He laughed to himself as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Well that’s different, you just look like you’re wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I swear, guys have it so easy” You grumbled to yourself, finally deciding on a bikini before throwing it on and slipping on a coverup as you headed down the hallway. “You ready?” You asked, grabbing the bag of towels you had packed by the front door. 

“Really? I don’t get to see before we leave?” He raised an eyebrow at you, seeming disappointed by the coverup you had put on over your swimsuit. 

“Yes, really. We’re already 45 minutes late after you spilled all of our breakfast on the floor after deciding you needed to fuck me on the kitchen counter this morning. Knowing you, Javi, we’re gonna be another 45 minutes late if you see me in this bathing suit before we leave. Let’s go, you horn dog.” You laughed as you shook your head, grabbing your things as you opened the door to leave. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining… And we’d only be another 10 minutes late, I could make it fast.” He winked, grabbing the cooler he’d packed before locking and closing your apartment door behind you. 

From the amount of cars lining the street leading up to the Morris household where the annual picnic was being hosted, you were convinced you could have shown up 2 hours late and no one would have noticed. The impressive house was nestled on a corner lot at the end of the subdivision street, lined with other large homes in the newly built neighborhood. You and Javi were both relieved to find that the beverage cooler was one of the first things you found as you walked on to the large lot behind the house, already bustling with people, music blasting from the speakers by the pool. 

“Jesus, they weren’t kidding when they said this was a big deal, huh?” You looked up at Javi as he handed you one of the beers he had grabbed. 

“Fuck, I guess not.” He grimaced, taking a sip of his own drink before an older, broadly built man with salt and pepper hair approached Javi, outstretching his hand towards him. 

“Peña, good to see you. Glad you could make it.” You had a feeling it was Dean Morris, Javi’s boss and the host of the party, based on what Javi had told you about him, though his face looked semi-familiar to you. 

“Thanks for the invite. Beautiful house. Uh, Morris, this is my girlfriend-” Morris cut Javi off before he could finish the rest of his sentence, re-extending his hand out to you as you reciprocated. 

“Ah yes, I believe we’ve actually met before. I think I’ve had the pleasure of already meeting you one of the times the department had to come down to Alma Pierce. That’s a tough gig, if I do say so myself. Hard to keep those kids focused.” The wires clicked in your brain, remembering that Morris was the one who had made 80 3rd graders cry after talking about watching people get murdered by the cartel during his presentation. You politely smiled, pulling away from his handshake. 

“Yeah, it definitely is a lot of work to keep their attention. Thank God for summer vacation.” 

“Well, I definitely would have paid a lot more attention in school if a pretty lady like you would have been my teacher. Bet those little boys love being in your class. And their dads, too. Isn’t that right, Peña?” He let out a harsh and brash laugh, taking a hand and patting it on Javi’s back. “Daniels, you old bastard, is that you?” He shouted at one of the newcomers entering the party. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a buddy who just showed up whose balls I need to bust.” He nodded to both of you as he sauntered off, leaving Javi with a horrified look on his face. 

“Well, he seems absolutely charming.” You grimaced your face before taking another, much longer sip of your beer. 

“Jesus, Osita, I’m so sorry. I should have said something, he’s my boss and I-” 

“What are you talking about? I love when men do that to me.” Your voiced oozed with sarcasm, absolutely hating everything about how so many men felt entitled to degrade you about your profession as a backhanded compliment to try and tell you that you were attractive. 

“You get that a lot?” Javi’s face now looking more concerned. 

“Way more than you’d think was socially acceptable. Not the first time I’ve heard it, and to be quite honest with you, I’m sure it won’t be the last today.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long swig of your drink as you watched Javi’s jaw clench, his thumb rubbing along the tops of his fingers as they balled up in a fist. 

“Listen, if if any of these other bastards try to say shit to you, I have no problem putting them in their fucking place.” 

Your face went flush as you felt your heart pound a little heavier in your chest. You’d really have no problem handling yourself in telling any man to kindly fuck off if they were bothering you, but something about the way Javi’s protective instincts seemed to kick into overdrive had you feeling hot and bothered. 

“Cool your jets, killer. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need you to put anyone in their place.” You giggled, mocking him as you pressed up on to your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. 

“I know you can, Osita, just- some of the guys I work with are assholes who have no interest in being respectful. You absolutely are fucking sexy as hell, but you’re smart and funny and kind and you deserve to be treated that way.” He looked out around the crowd of people in the backyard before looking back down at you, sympathetically. 

“Thanks, Javi. I promise, I’ll be okay. The hockey player in me has no problem picking a fight if I need to.” You nudged Javi as you continued to walk further into the crowd. As you looked over the sea of people, you noticed two men frantically waving at Javi over by the pool, the taller, lankier one giving Javi an overexaggerated thumbs up as he looked in your direction, the shorter, stockier man next to him looking like he was rapidly nodding in agreement. 

“Looks like you’ve got a little fan club over there.” You laughed, giving a big thumbs up back to the two as Javi palmed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” He whispered to himself as he saw Carter and Miller trying to flag him down in the crowd. 

“Carter and Miller?” You asked, still laughing at the pair and Javi’s embarrassment as he nodded his head. “Well, too late to escape now, let’s go say hi. At least that way we can be by the pool.” You grabbed Javi’s hand as you headed through the crowd. 

“Peña! So glad you came, man! We were hoping we’d see you! This your girl?” Carter smirked, raising his eyebrows at Javi as he gestured towards you. 

“I’ve actually never met him before, he’s kidnapping me and holding me at ransom to come to his party. No, I’m just kidding, yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you both, Javi’s told me a lot about you.” You smiled, reaching out to shake both of their hands as they laughed. 

“She’s fuckin’ funny, Peña. I already like her more than you.” You laughed as Miller elbowed Carter in the gut, causing him to drop his beer, spilling it down his shirt as it fell to the ground. 

“Way to go, ya fuckin’ doofus.” Carter groaned, peeling off his shirt. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ pool and then you’re getting me a new beer.” 

You were relieved to see that there were actually a fair amount of people in the pool, and it wasn’t a pool party where everyone stood awkwardly around the edge of the water without actually ever getting in. “Hey, I have to go drop off this pasta salad anyways, why don’t I grab you another one and then I’m about to get in the pool too. I love the heat but it feels like the surface of the sun out here. Does that work, Jav?” You asked, setting down your things before striping yourself of your coverup, revealing the light green, strappy bikini you had on underneath. You weren’t someone who was usually overconfident in themselves, but you did know that this particular bathing suit made you feel pretty damn good. As the 3 men turned around in response, Javi’s jaw just about dropped to the ground as he saw your swimsuit. “Javi?” You asked again, looking back up and the 3 who were all speechless, staring at you. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, that sounds great, Hermosa.” Javi responded, his mouth still hanging slightly open as he looked you up and down. 

You grabbed the pasta salad from the cooler, walking over to Javi and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before whispering in his ear. “Told you we would have been another 45 minutes late if you saw me before you left. Keep it in your pants, Peña, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” You gave his earlobe a quick nip before pulling away, giving him a wink as you walked over to the other end of the pool to set down your food. 

“Fuck me.” Javi muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you as you walked away. 

Javi turned behind him to see Miller and Carter quite literally biting their tongues, taking every ounce of willpower they had stored inside them to not ogle at you as you walked away. 

“I’ll say it once and then I’ll shut up about it, I promise, so please don’t kill me, but Jesus Christ, Peña, you are one lucky man.” Miller looked at Javi as Carter nodded rapidly in agreement. 

At that moment, Javi wasn’t even mad, because those two idiots were absolutely right. He was a lucky man, indeed. 

You were glad to see that Javi, Carter and Miller were already in the pool when you returned, your arms full of 4 beers and 4 Jell-O shots sitting on top of them. You tossed the drinks to each of the boys before sliding off the ledge into the water to join them. “I don’t know who Kevin is, but he very adamantly insisted that I take all of these Jell-O shots. The Laredo Sheriff's Department definitely seems like they enjoy having a good time.” You laughed as you popped the lid off your little container, slurping down the mixture and grimacing at the terrible vodka aftertaste it left behind. “Jesus, these are strong.” 

“Told you it was fun!” Miller said, motioning at you for one of the Jell-O shots. He took his, also scrunching his face after. “Yeah, knowing Kevin these must be double, probably triple the normal strength.” Carter followed suit, as you passed off the last one to Javi. 

“I’m good, Osita.” Javi smiled at you as he held up his beer. 

“You sure?” You gestured at him, waving the little plastic container at his face. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I told you I’d drive home. Either way, those look fucking disgusting. Plus, I have yet to see you drunk and was promised some obnoxious singing after you’ve had enough to drink.” He leaned over, kissing you on the head before you stepped back crossing your arms at him. 

“Only if you’re lucky, Peña.” You winked as you slurped down his Jell-O shot, sticking out your tongue in disgust after you finished. “Uck, I think that one was worse than the first.” 

It didn’t take long for you to make good on your promise of a drunken sing-alongs to Javi, already feeling decently intoxicated after your two beers and Jell-O shots. You were all giggles and smiles, feeling especially flirty Javi considering how hot he looked, all tanned and toned, the broadness of his shirtless shoulders practically taking you out at the sight of them. Javi was glad he was sober enough to keep his composure with the way you were dancing around him, seeming like you were finding any excuse to touch him and drive him absolutely crazy. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t fill him with a little sense of pride, that even as his co-workers stared at you long enough for Javi to shoot them a very subtle I swear if you keep looking at her like that, I’ll kill you look, you still looked at him like he was the only one there at that party, like there was no one else in the world you’d rather be with than him. After one of the speakers had finished blaring “Tubthumping”, who you had drunkley insisted to Javi was sung by “The Chub Chubs”, making you crack up in hysterics every time you said the name, you hopped out of the pool, telling Javi you were going to piss your pants if you didn’t go pee right this second. Javi insisted that he go with you to help you find the bathroom, not because you weren’t more than capable of doing it on your own, but because he didn’t trust a single one of any of his fucking co-workers with the way they had been looking at you, who were now equally, if not more drunk than you were. 

Javi wrapped you up in your towel before taking your hand and leading you through the crowded patio and into the house, where you found the bathroom, tucked around the corner of the kitchen. “I’ll wait right here for you, okay?” He said, giving you a sweet smile as you opened the door. 

“You better be, you’re not allowed to disappear on me, or I will be very sad that I don’t get to stare at your handsome face the rest of the night.” You crossed your arms at him, poking his bare chest as you giggled to yourself. 

“Go pee, you dork.” He laughed as he shook his head, gently pushing you into the bathroom, very amused by your drunken state. 

As he closed the door behind you, he couldn’t help but keep laughing to himself as he listened to you singing along to “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls over the sound of you flushing the toilet, now pressing his ear against the door as he heard you talking to yourself as you washed your hands. 

“You know what I wanna be?” You pointed to yourself in the mirror, giggling at yourself as you wiped your hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “I wanna be Javi’s wife. Oh my GOD, I love him so much. I wanna have that man’s babies, cause ho-ly shit. Jesus, he’s gonna be such a hot dad. Like, the kind of dad that comes in a parent teacher conferences and all the teachers go that's a hot dad, and I can be like, he's my hot dad. Wait, not like my- ew not like my father, that's not what I meant, but you know, you're the one talking to yourself. Okay, pull it together ya drunk ass, that’s a long way off, but a girl can dream. Go get back out there and find your sexy ass boyfriend, dummy.”

That was the second time today Javi found himself with his jaw practically on the floor, trying his best to compose himself as you stumbled out the doorway. “What are you smiling at?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, leaning against the doorframe, cheeks red and grin wide. 

“You have a good talk in there, Osita?” He smirked as you stood there in shock, just about ready to die from embarrassment. 

“Did… did you hear what I said in there? Please tell me you didn’t hear what I said in there. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my goddddd.” You buried your face in your hands, unable to bring yourself to even look at Javi. 

“You really think about all that stuff, hermosa? All that stuff you said?” Even with your hands covering your painfully scrunched face, you could feel his sweet brown eyes practically burning a hole into you, leaving all of your secrets exposed. 

“Of course I do. All the time. I know I’m drunk, but my pants are not on fire because I am not lying. And I’m not even wearing any pants. Wait, that doesn’t make sense…” drunkenly lost in thought, Javi reached down, grabbing a handful of your ass before tilting his chin up towards you, his thumb stroking along the line of your jaw. 

“Jesus Christ, I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 

“I do, because you tell me all the time and I love you very, very, very, very lots of verys much too.” You giggled, smiling up at him. He leaned into you, planting a soft kiss on your lips, his mouth sweet and tender against yours as they met. He grabbed your hand, locking his fingers between yours as he led you back through the house, his eyes glued on you as you shuffled your way through the crowd. 

“Peña, I was hoping I’d see you again!” Javi stopped abruptly as a large hand grasped around his shoulder, making him turn around to see the group of men standing around the kitchen table you were just about to pass. Morris’s gruff voice had you both freezing in your tracks, already bracing yourself for whatever stupid, inappropriate comment he had up his sleeve. “Listen, I was hoping to talk to you about something, just the two of us. Do you have a few?” 

Javi looked at you with remorse, knowing there was really no polite way to say no to his boss who was already practically dragging him away from you. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Javi replied. “Just if it could be quick, okay? I don’t, I don’t wanna leave her here all by herself.” He gestured, nodding his head in your direction. 

“I won’t take up too much of your time, I wouldn’t wanna be away from such a pretty woman for too long either. Besides, she’s in good hands with these fine gentlemen, right boys?” He looked at the rest of the men still gathered around the kitchen table. You could almost feel Javi burning a hole with his eyes into each one of them, giving a look that said, you say or do anything stupid and I’ll fucking end you. It seemed everyone at the table picked up on the message as Javi gave you one last sympathetic smile before Morris dragged him away into the living room. 

“So, you Peña’s girl?” One of the dark haired men asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Uh, yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet all of you!” You tried to muster some courage, looking at the group of men now staring at you, feeling drastically more sober from the awkwardly uncomfortable circumstances you now found yourself in. 

“I’m Hernandez,” the man pointed at himself, “that’s Callahan,” he pointed at a taller, blonde man, “this is Richards,” a stockier man waved at you, “and this is Estrada.” Another dark haired man raised his drink at you as you tried to smile, waving back at them. You introduced yourself, the men silently laughing to themselves, as Hernandez spoke again. “Almost couldn’t fucking believe it when we found out Peña had a girlfriend, never though I’d live to see the day, that’s for fucking sure.” 

You pretended to laugh along with them, not really sure what he meant by the comment, but definitely knowing it didn’t make you feel great. “So um, what do you think Morris is talking to him about?” You asked, trying to see if the group had any insight why Javi’s boss was so insistent on speaking with him. 

“Oh, Mexico, 100%.” Estrada responded quickly, the other men nodding in agreement. “Gettin’ so fuckin’ bad down there, Morris has been on the phone with the DEA every other fuckin’ day trying to get Peña to go.” 

You could instantly feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach. They wanted to send Javi down to Mexico? They couldn’t just do that, right? There was no way he would go back to something like that, would he? 

“Fuckin’ DEA big shot Peña, Morris trusts him because of all the shit in Colombia. I heard it’s a goddamn mess across the border and they’re starting to get desperate.” 

“Couldn’t pay me enough money in the fucking world to go back to doing that shit, but I don’t know, sounds like Peña’s done enough fucked up shit to last him a lifetime, so what’s a little more, right?” 

It was like you had become invisible, the way they were talking about Javi in front of you. What the hell were they talking about? What had he done that was so bad? Was he ever planning on telling you? You could feel how fast your heart was pounding, your palms beginning to sweat as panic crept through you. 

“Someone’s gotta fucking do it. Richards and I were running the numbers the other day and the amount of coke they’ve got coming across the border now is fucking insane.” Callahan shook his head, setting his now empty beer bottle on the table amongst the large pile that had seemed to accumulate between them. 

“Listen, you guys already know how I feel about this shit.” Hernandez sighed, shaking his head. “The cartel is obviously a fucking problem, but it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for all the dumbass crackheads out there snortin’ this shit off the streets like it’s no one’s business.” 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. Your hands began to tremble, your mouth painfully dry as you tried to swallow, frantically looking around for Javi, desperate to find a way out of this conversation as you felt your anxiety skyrocket. You knew where this conversation was going. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t go through another conversation like this. Not again. Your brain was flashing images in your head as you heard your ears begin to ring, everything around you feeling like it was moving in slow motion. 

“He’s got a fuckin’ point. There wouldn’t be such a market for it if people weren’t so desperate to get their hands on it. Don’t these dumb motherfuckers realize how stupid they have to be to use that shit?” The men all laughed, their smug looks burning a hole in your chest as you felt your throat tighten with each breath. You tried with everything you had in you to fight the tears welling in your eyes, praying they’d stop or that you could find some way out of the conversation before you collapsed over the brink of full blown panic. 

“It is sad, the death count from that shit’s higher than it's ever been.” Richards chimed in, trying to bring some rationale to the discussion. 

“Honestly,” Hernandez spoke, breaking from his laughter, taking a swig of his beer, “and I hate to fucking say it, I do, but if these junkie bastards know better, it’s what they fuckin’ deserve.” 

That was it. Your brain snapped, sending you into full blown distress as you felt like the room was collapsing in on you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, pounding in your ears, as your body went numb, taking every ounce of strength in you not to fall to the floor in full blown hysterics. You couldn’t listen to this conversation anymore, not able to wait however long it would take for Javi to come back, you made up some half coherent excuse to the group that you needed to go get something from the car, desperate for someplace alone, away from everyone. You stumbled through the crowded house through the front door, trying so desperately to pull yourself together until you were back outside, away from anyone’s concerned looks and questioning glances. As you stepped off the front porch, the concrete sidewalk pinching against your bare feet and hot Texas sun pounding down on your skin, you burst into tears. Each sob was painful, your chest tightening with every breath you took as your mind raced at a million miles per minute. 

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t deserve it. You tried so hard to help him. Was it my fault? Did I not do enough? Where’s Javi’s car? Where’s Javi? Please don’t let Javi leave. He can’t leave. I can’t do it again, I can’t do it, please, fuck, I can’t do it. 

Some way or another, you had managed to make it down the street to Javi’s truck, desperately shaking at the locked door handles before falling to the ground, legs curled up against your chest in a ball as you leaned against his tire, letting your fear and panic consume you whole. 

Back inside, Javi had finished his conversation with Morris, frustrated and annoyed he had taken up so much of his time with something he had absolutely no interest in. As he got back to the table where you were supposed to be, his defenses went up instantly, trying to find you. “Where the fuck is she?” Javi demanded, looking at the group of men talking amongst themselves at the table. 

“What?” Hernandez asked, barely looking at Javi. 

“My girlfriend, you fucker, where the hell is she?” 

“Jesus, calm down Peña. I don’t know, she said something about going out to the car.” Hernandez turned back to face the rest of his friends as Javi began storming his way through the party, pushing past people as he bursted through the front door, practically running down the street towards his car. His heart stopped when he found you, curled on the ground in a sobbing heap against his truck. In an instant, he was on the ground with you, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around you, his heart racing almost as fast as yours. 

“Baby, what’s wrong? Osita, talk to me, are you okay? What happened?” His words were desperate and frantic as they fell from his lips, pulling you tighter in his embrace as you tried so hard to catch your breath, to get even just one word out as you sobbed against the soft skin of his chest. “Breathe baby, just breathe. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here.” He took his hand, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you closer, the presence of his touch helping your mind to slow down for a moment, trying your best to stop your shallow, shaky breathing. “There you go, Osita. It’s okay, baby, deep breaths. Just breathe, I promise I’m right here, it’s okay.” You could feel him trying to slow down his own breathing, taking long, deep inhales and exhales as you rested against him, your face wet and messy buried in the crook of his neck as he held you. 

He’s here. Javi’s right here. He’s here.  

You repeated the words over and over again in your brain until you could feel the strain in your chest begin to ease, forcing yourself to take one deep breath after another, slowly starting to find relief from the panic that was flowing through you. Javi said nothing, just holding you as he breathed with you, squeezing you as hard as he could, like he was afraid if he let go, you would float away. After a few more minutes, you finally lifted your head off Javi’s chest, your eyes red and puffy as your cheeks glistened from the wet flow of your tears. Javi cusped your face so gently, his brown doe eyes heartbroken as he looked at the state of pain and fear he had found you in. “Baby, are you okay?” His words were shaky too, like he was pleading for something, anything, to know that you were alright. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, gulping down the tears you still were fighting against as you slowly nodded your head. “Osita, please talk to me. Please.” 

You weren’t even sure if you were going to be able to form a coherent thought. Tears streamed back down your face, your lips quivering and hands shaking as the wall that separated Javi from what you were about to tell him came crumbling down. It felt like your brain was short circuiting, your words beginning to flow out of you like a faucet who couldn’t be turned off. 

“They said, they said, they wanted you to go to Mexico. To go back like you did in Colombia, because of how bad things were there. But you can’t go back Javi, please I can’t lose you, I can’t lose someone again. It was like they were blaming him, like it was all his fault, it wasn’t his fault, it was my fault, I did everything I could, but he came back and he wasn’t the same. Please, Javi, you can’t go, I can’t do it again, I can’t do it, I can’t watch someone I love leave and come back a different person and let it ruin their life. Please Javi, you can’t leave me like Patrick, I can’t do it again.” 

Oh. Oh, Fuck.  

You fell back into Javi’s arms as the thoughts in your brain kept flowing from your mouth, sobbing between each sentence pressed against the tear stained skin of his chest. 

“I tried to do everything I could. When he came back from his second tour in Iraq he wasn’t the same. He couldn’t talk about what he’d seen or what he’d done. I knew he was hurting so bad. I came home one day and I saw him doing coke on the bathroom sink, and he swore to me he would stop and get help if I didn’t tell anyone. He said he just needed something to help him forget. I kept my promise. I didn’t tell anyone. Not my brothers, not my parents. I drove him to NA meetings, I tried to find him rehabs but he wouldn’t fucking stop. I just wanted him to stop. I just wanted my brother back. I finally had to say something, I had to tell my family because I couldn’t do it anymore. He found out and we got into such a big fight, we yelled and screamed at each other and I told him I hated him. I told him I hated him for what he’d done. I hated him because he wasn’t the brother I had before. I hated him because he wouldn’t stop. And that was the last thing I ever said to him. His friends found him in his apartment the next morning. He overdosed. He was just gone. It was like he just disappeared. I can’t have you disappear, Javi. I can’t. Please. I can’t.” 

Javi sat there silently as you sobbed in his arms. There were no words he could think of that could help. Nothing that he could say or do that could even attempt to patch the gushing wound that you had just ripped open for him. You had left yourself out in the open, bleeding and exposed as he sat there, helpless. He wished he could do something, anything, to take away just an ounce of the hurt and the pain you felt. But for now, all he could do was hold you, let you cry. Be there for you as you let the tears of pain and grief and hurt release from your body. The next words that came out of his mouth weren’t the words he should have said, but the only ones his brain could muster. “Baby… Why didn’t… Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You looked up at him, your eyes begging for forgiveness through their red and swollen tears. “I couldn’t, Javi, how could I? It’s your job. You’ve spent your whole life fighting to stop what happened to my brother. And now he’s gone. There’s nothing that you could have done. There’s nothing anyone like you could have done. It’s the fucking truth and it sucks. How am I supposed to let you live with that? I can’t be the one to add anymore to what you’ve been through. It’s my fault. It’s my fault that he’s gone. I tried so hard. I tried so hard, Javi. I’m so sorry, Javi, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me.” 

He could practically feel his heart break in two seeing you hurt so badly. It broke him to see you blame yourself, to think you tried to hide this part of your life away to keep him safe. He hugged you so tightly, like he was trying to free you from the pain you had carried, make you feel safe and loved and to know that he meant it. He grabbed your face, using his thumb to wipe your tears, praying that you believed what he had to say. “It wasn’t your fault. Baby, please, it wasn’t. You did everything you could. I could never be mad at you. I’m so sorry, Osita. I love you. I love you so much. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fucking quit before they make me go back. I’m not leaving you.” 

“You promise?” 

“Of course I do. I promise.” 

You let him hold you for just a few moments longer, saying nothing as you sat in the silence of his promise. You knew he meant it. You had never trusted someone like you had trusted him. In his words, in his eyes, in the way he held you like nothing else in the world mattered except for you. You knew Javier Peña meant every last word. You knew he’d keep his promise. 

You sat up a little taller, wiping your face with the back of your hand, trying to compose yourself, terrified to see the snotty, wet mess you’d become. “I don’t um… I don’t really wanna go back to the party, if that’s okay.” You spoke, words embarrassed and shaky as you stared sheepishly at the ground. Javi shook his head, only laughing to himself out of pure shock. 

“Osita, you were thinking about trying to go back there? Baby, I’m taking you home. Whatever you need, I’m yours.” His words made you shed a few more tears, this time a small smile spreading across your face as he helped you up off the ground, pulling you in for a long, tight hug, resting his nose among the soft waves of your hair. 

“Javi?” You whispered against the warmth of his chest. 

“Yes, Osita?”  

“Can we get ice cream on the way home?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Of course we can get ice cream. I’ll drive you all the way back to Chicago for ice cream, if that’s what you need.” You let out a soft giggle as you hugged him just a little tighter before pulling away to look up at him. 

“Texas ice cream will do just fine.” 

“I’m gonna go grab our stuff and then we can head out okay? Are you gonna be okay waiting by the truck?” 

“I’ll be okay. Thanks, Jav.” He gave you a quick kiss on the head before running back to the house, returning quickly with your bags as he unlocked the door and helped you up into his truck. You sat in silence on the drive to Eva’s, one of your favorite ice cream places Javi had taken you to, ever since he had made good on his claim that they did, in fact, have the best cookies and cream ice cream you’d ever have. After ordering for the both of you, Javi brought your ice creams over to your favorite spot, a little park bench that sat in front of the small creek that ran behind the building. 

“Cookies and cream for you.” He said, handing you over your ice cream. “Chocolate and sprinkles for me.” He finished, sitting down next to you on the bench as you laughed to yourself. “If you’re gonna say something, just say it, Osita.” He smirked, knowing exactly what was on your mind. 

“I can’t believe that you try to deny that you have the biggest sweet tooth out of anyone I’ve ever met. Sprinkles?” You looked over at his cone, snickering at the little rainbow flecks covering the ice cream. 

“Whatever.” He smiled, taking a big lick out of his cone as he put his arm on the back of the bench, draping it over your shoulder. He paused as he looked over at you, just staring at your ice cream, lost in your own thoughts. “Hey.” He whispered gently, causing you to shift your gaze up at him. “I know it hurts. It never stops hurting, even when people tell you it should. We don’t have to talk about it anymore right now, but if you ever want to, I’m here okay?” You nodded, wiping away the tears welling behind your eyes. 

“Okay.” You sat there for another moment after finally taking a lick of your cookies and cream, watching the sun glisten along the babble of the creek ahead of you. “Can we talk about something else?” 

“Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Javi ran his thumb back and forth against your arm, drawing circles on your soft skin. 

“Anything. Literally anything.” You shook your head, trying to force yourself to let out a small huff of laughter. 

Javi grinned, taking another lick of his ice cream before he spoke. “I’m glad you made good on your drunk sing-along promise today. You’re right, it’s even worse than normal.” You let out a genuine laugh, nudging him as you finally let a smile creep across your face. 

“I tried to warn you. I blame those Jell-O shots.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes at Javi. 

“It was cute. Almost as good as your bathroom pep talk.” He chuckled as you looked at him in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, taking another lick around the base of the cone to keep it from dripping. 

“Do you really not remember? I took you in to use the bathroom and you were talking to yourself in the mirror when you were washing your hands?” 

“What are you talking about? I don’t- OH. OH NO. I’m so sorry, I was really drunk. You were not supposed to hear that. How did you hear that?!” You could feel how hot your face was as your cheeks turned bright red, burying your head in the free hand you weren’t using to hold your ice cream. 

“You were practically yelling to yourself in the bathroom, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, biting down on his lip. “Do you remember what you said?” 

“Of course I remember, why do you think I’m so embarrassed?” You replied, scrunching your face, looking down at the ground. 

“Why are you so embarrassed, Osita?” You looked up at him, surprised by how genuine he was, his voice soft and sweet, a smile peeking out of the corner of his lips. 

“Because… Because I shouldn’t have just, like, said that out loud. I don’t… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you heard me say things that I want and you don’t. It was stupid, I’m sorry.” You looked back down at the ground, wishing you could repeatedly kick your past drunken self for letting Javi hear your rambles.  

“It’s not stupid. I want those things, too. God, I want those things, too.” 

You raised your head back up as Javi rubbed his hand along your back, making heat creep through your face, blushing, as you felt a smile stretch from one side of your face to another.  You ran your tongue along the top of your teeth as you took a deep breath in, exhaling and leaning your head against Javi’s shoulder. 

“You promise?” Your voice was low and quiet, almost soft enough to have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been listening. Soft enough to have gone unanswered if what he had said wasn’t really true. 

“I promise.” 

You sat there quietly, the promise of his words dancing in the air between you. There were few people in this world that you trusted. It hadn’t taken long for Javier Peña to come into your life and become the one person in this world you now trusted the most. He had made you a promise- and you knew damn well that he’d keep it. 

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413

[loveinhawkins]

The day before Spring Break ‘84, Eddie has a panic attack so bad he stays locked in a bathroom stall long after the final bell has rung.

And it’s so stupid. It’s not like the whole thing came as a surprise to him: he saw the writing on the wall even back in December, his grades on a continual downward spiral he couldn’t shift.

But he kept on trucking cause he’s still got the mind of a five year old, apparently, hoping against hope that things would just miraculously work out.

Idiot.

He doesn’t have anything worth getting riled up over, no mistreatment to distract him—sure, if it was O’Donnell doing the honours, she might’ve been a little mean about it, but instead he’d been directed to the school receptionist who confirmed the ‘unfortunate news’ with an uninterested if pleasant smile.

She asked if he’d talked to his homeroom teacher about his predicament, and he’d promptly lied through his teeth and said yes, even though he’d rather die than do anything of the sort. Then she went on about his ‘many options’, a prospective timetable for next semester, some forms to fill in, blah, blah, blah.

“Would you want a call home?” she’d said, already reaching for the phone. “We can go through the process with—”

“No, thanks,” Eddie told her quickly. He stuffed the forms into his bag. “I’ve got—I’ll let my uncle know.”

The thought of Wayne having his day off interrupted by such news made him feel nauseous.

Fuck, Wayne. He’ll be waiting for him.

At that realisation, Eddie goes cold then hot then cold again. He stumbles, gets the stall door open eventually, shakes the jittery feeling out of his fingers.

The parking lot’s still busy—students lazily chatting, perched half in, half-out of their cars; all they’ve got to worry about is whether they’re invited to Tina’s or Josh’s or whoever-the-fuck’s—depends on whose parents have unwisely left their house empty for the week.

Eddie’s stayed so long that he’s missed the bus, so he starts the trudge home, grits his teeth at every stab of his boots cutting into his heels—the van isn’t even on his periphery yet, still many months of scraping and saving to go until it’s his.

He’s almost out the school grounds. He crosses the road entirely on autopilot, startles when he realises that he’s had to make a car do an emergency stop.

Steve Harrington waves him on with a tiny little flick of the finger, all breezy, and great, that’s all he fucking needs—Mister Cool being polite to him.

He gives a small nod of thanks before continuing his walk. Keeps his head down, eyes on the sidewalk. Doesn’t bother about whether he steps on any cracks or not; he figures his luck isn’t changing any time soon.

His palms itch. He knows it’s stupid and embarrassingly self-centred of him, but he can’t get rid the thought that everyone’s looking at him, that everyone knows somehow.

Wayne sees him coming from the porch. By the time Eddie reaches him, he’s gone inside and out, re-emerging with a can of cream soda that he cracks open and holds out with one hand.

Eddie can’t take it. He reaches for the contents of his bag, cringing inside at how the papers are already creased, he can’t even manage…

He passes the forms to Wayne. Can’t look him in the eye.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Uncle Wayne,” he says—and mortifyingly, his throat closes up, and that’s all he can get out.

There’s barely a pause before Wayne says, “Eddie. Can you look at me?” When Eddie does, he clicks his tongue quietly at whatever he must find. “Kid, you’re all right. S’not the end of the world.”

Eddie scoffs. “Damn well feels like it.”

Yup, petulant as fuck too. Why not? Might as well crash and burn.

He at least makes sure to shut the front door as apologetically as he can. There’s one singular plate in the sink that he sets about scrubbing even though it hardly needs it.

He hears Wayne come in; he’s reading still, turning the pages over thoughtfully.

Eddie keeps scrubbing.

Wayne’s probably reading the test results. Eddie doesn’t need to see to know the ones that’ll be lingered on.

He couldn’t even pass English. The one thing that was meant to be in the bag, where he could scrape a C-, and he…

What the fuck’s wrong with him? Where’s the sense in being able to write a good campaign on a whim when he can’t even…

“Eddie.” Wayne passes the cream soda can across the counter. “You keep workin’ at the sink any longer, and m’gonna start thinkin’ you’re ‘bout to give me your last will and testament.”

Eddie chuckles. Scrubs at his eyes and obligingly steps away. He picks up the can—the cold metal soothes the itch trapped in his palm.

Wayne folds the papers neatly, corner to corner.

“I’ll help you fill everything in,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll get a pen.”

But Wayne shakes his head. “Not tonight. We’ve got plans, remember?”

Eddie laughs again. ‘Got plans’, according to Wayne, means watching T.V in comfortable silence, Eddie lounging on the couch; Wayne might occasionally read out a crossword clue he’s stuck on before typically solving it on his own, and Eddie would drop off to sleep early, his last impression that of Wayne treading lightly from his armchair, turning the volume down.

It’s a comforting thought.

But he… he should be…

Wayne gives him a knowing look, waves him over to the couch.

The creak of the refrigerator door opening. Wayne’ll be starting dinner soon. Some sorta pasta, probably: it’s tradition, whenever school ends.

“Hey, Ed.”

Eddie curls up on the couch, knees to his chest. “Mm-hmm?”

“It’s fixable, all right? It ain’t a chore. You know that, right?”

Eddie smiles—he sniffles and doesn’t bother scrubbing at his eyes again when they fill up.

“Yeah, I—I know.”

The words are old, a truth he’s had to be reminded of many times; it started back when the world had ended once before, when Eddie, newly moved into Wayne’s trailer, had stammered, “I-I won’t bother you, Uncle Wayne, I swear, you won’t need to—”

And then he learnt the very first rule of the universe—save for the fact that Wayne would always, always be there to help him.

It ain’t a chore, loving you.

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 2 - Trust Issues

Warnings: food hoarding

Word Count: 1.5k (gif not mine)

Summary: Maria and Clint talk about Natasha. Clint realizes that bringing in a black widow may not be as easy as he thinks.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

Clint yawns.

Maria throws a book at him and groans.

“I’m so bored,” he complains. “How do you do this?”

“That’s what you get, for bringing a stray home,” she rolls her eyes and throws her pen at him.

“They can’t keep me grounded forever right?”

Maria shrugs, “Ask Coulson.”

Clint throws them back at her and glances at the clock.

“I should probably go,” he sighs.

“Pick up time?”

He bows, “I am the chauffeur, am I not?”

“She’s not eating,” Maria tells him as Clint starts to walk away.

“What?”

He turns and eyes her closely.

“She doesn’t eat the food, haven’t you noticed? Not unless it’s packaged or clear liquid.”

She pauses.

“I don’t know what she does eat, have you been giving her food?”

Clint shakes his head.

“Only the occasional granola bar when I’ve eaten one?”

He pauses. “How do you know?”

Maria pauses.

“She’s been here two weeks, what has she been eating?”

“How do you know?”

Looking around, Maria opens the surveillance program on her computer, and rewinds to breakfast.

“Don’t tell Coulson I’m showing you this,” she growls.

Clint looks forward with interest, feeling voyeuristic at watching her.

He knew they’d be surveilling her, but had underestimated just how closely.

It seems stupid in hindsight.

The breakfast is delivered.

The blue tray pushed through a small opening on the floor, and Clint feels angry at how just like prison this must feel for her.

Natasha approaches it, and squats to look at the food.

She inspects the apple, and places it on the bed away from the other food. The scrambled eggs, she touches as though she’s looking for something; pressing them down; then looks at the juice box and places it next to the apple.

The tray gets pushed back, the rest of the cooked food untouched, and, after a moment, taken away.

“Breakfast she eats the most, or takes the most from, I guess.”

Clint keeps watching, but she doesn’t eat. The juice box gets drunk slowly, but the apple is placed inside the small side table drawer.

He glimpses one of the granola bars he’d given her, and he feels like an idiot for not noticing.

“Talk to her about it?”

He nods.

“Why’d you tell me? You don’t even like her?”

Maria looks at him, annoyed at the look.

“Just because I like her, doesn’t mean I want her dead.”

He looks away from the computer, Maria turning the program off.

“Clint, she’s not okay, traumatized black widows; don’t you think you’re out of your depth?”

He takes the criticism and thinks about Natasha’s face as he’d offered her a lifeline. The way she looked so sad and resigned to her fate, and the run and hide through Berlin.

“I’m all she’s got,” he shrugs.

Maria shakes her head, but says nothing.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll chat to you later?”

He leaves without the response, mulling on her words, wondering just how hard this was going to be.

.

Clint waits, just as he promised as the door opens as Natasha steps out.

“I’ll see you in two days,” Olivia tells both the receptionist and Natasha at the door.

The receptionist nods, and gives Clint a smile, ignoring Natasha as she steps out and forward.

“Sorry,” Clint says ruefully, taking the handcuffs from Olivia.

Natasha holds her hands up, face blank, eyes glazed.

They step in line with each other, the walk back to the glass prison punctuated with Clint’s quiet words.

“I feel like you look when I walk out of therapy. Did it go okay?”

He pauses, “you don’t have to answer that.”

When there’s no words, he decides to continue talking.

He knows she doesn’t trust them; any of them. He really wants to know what she talks about in therapy. If she says anything at all or if Olivia just talks to her.

He wonders idly if he needs to talk to someone too.

Probably.

The last couple of months have been… intense, for lack of a better word and he wonders if, like Maria had said, he was out of his depth.

It was not the first time he thought it.

Natasha’s despondency was affecting him.

What did he know about defectors and a traumatised super spy?

He just didn’t want her to die.

Not by his hand, or her own.

“I like her though,” he continues.

“Give her a chance, if you can. She’s… not unlike you, in her background and maybe can help? She’s there to help.”

He mulls on his own words as he leads her a different way back. He’s right.

If anyone can help her; Olivia can.

Determined to show her a different part of the complex, they go through the kitchens, and Clint picks up two apples, throwing her one and then crunching onto the other.

It gives him time to think.

He’s going to need to touch base with Olivia, make sure that she is interacting, doing what was promised.

He could ask her what he should be doing too; for her, for himself.

Clint leads the way back with practiced ease, the silence allowing him to think.

As they enter the first round of checks, he smiles easily to the straight faced guards; then as they get deeper to the third and forth stations, it’s just Clint’s badge letting them in.

It seems to bolster Natasha, the less people around, she matches his steps and bites the apple. At the noise, Clint turns and smiles.

“You don’t eat much,” he observes.

Natasha shrugs and takes another bite.

He laughs at her sass.

“Do you not like the food?”

Natasha looks down.

He feels a little mean, talking about this after she’s just had 90 minutes of therapy.

He’s sure the sessions are not the easiest, and he can see the slight tremor in her hands, despite her trying to mask it by holding onto the apple.

They reach her cell and she steps inside the glass, holding her wrists out for him to release them.

He does.

Taking the cuffs away and pushing them into his pocket.

“Just think about it, okay? If there’s food you want or prefer, just tell me? I can help.”

Natasha looks at her feet and takes two steps back, the door closing and the glass sealing shut.

.

Despite her better judgement, Natasha continues to eat the apple. The constant hunger makes her feel on edge sometimes.

She’s so used to it, that until Clint had said something, she hadn’t given it much thought.

Sitting on the bed, legs crossed, she chews on it and thinks.

Therapy had been tough.

Though not for the first time, Olivia had called her out on things that she shouldn’t know.

Details about the Red Room that only the guards, the officers or widows knew, inner workings of the KGB and Red Room procedures like the trial of the silent knife and graduation.

And whilst Natasha hadn’t had another panic attack, it had been close.

The push to talk and baiting was tempting.

How did she know?

She knew she’d eventually have to talk, but for now, whilst she could hold onto her silence, she wanted to keep it.

It was the only control she had.

Her mind feels like a minefield.

Sometimes, she feels like once she starts talking, she’ll never stop; but the years of self preservation wouldn’t let her.

She sorts the known information, finishing the apple and swallowing slowly, closing her eyes on the onslaught of images and thoughts.

It takes her a moment to let the memory of the silent knife trial pass. The blood on her hands feeling so visceral and real she opens and closes her eyes just to check.

She breathes.

In.

Holds it.

And out.

It has become the easiest thing to do after therapy. To think and sort through all the things that were said, disclosed and asked of her.

After a day like today where she had had to do both debriefing and therapy, she knew that nightmares would be inevitable.

She just hoped that whoever was watching the cameras tonight was sleeping on the job.

Natasha breathes slowly again.

Starting with the image that comes first, she focuses as best she can on sorting real from not real. What they had said, what she had disclosed, information that still was secret and that which had become known.

They were still only on major players of the organisation; those that she knew had ties into the western world. People she had been sent after, political agendas. It was far easier to talk about than herself, though she had a feeling that was coming.

Her mind flashes to Dreykov and she bites the inside of her cheek, drawing blood.

Real or not real.

She tries to ground herself in this moment.

She didn’t trust them.

They knew too much.

She’d told them too much.

There was no going back now.

Natasha thinks of Maria again.

Always an ending thought.

The divulgence of knowing her birthdate.

Information known by a select few but, perhaps also could be found from intel files. It means that somewhere here there’s more intel on her; prior to her coming here.

What she wouldn’t give for that file.

Therapy conversations had given her pause.

It was difficult to think about without her mind flashing back; and she didn’t want to.

Not here.

Not now.

There’s a file on her.

And she wants it.

.

<3