#...but i also never felt safe being that kind of person if my blogs housed 18+ posts. ;;;

[shirogane-oushirou]

this shouldnt really be relevant to anyone following this blog up until now lmao, but that post i rb-ed on main made me remember that, now that i have a dedicated space for mature posts, this blog is no longer mdni. my main is still 18+ just because it's my catch-all blog for all types of posts, as is my art blog bc i'll occasionally post haha funnie adult humor + i want to retain the option to post some suggestive art if i ever feel like it, but at least here things can be more chill ✌🏻

#📌 [ my posts. ] #i doubt that'll be a problem for anyone. but while i'm finishing up redoing my pinned posts and adding new character tags and whatnot #i figured i should make it clear juuuust in case. #i've always been so conflicted bc i really do think people under 18 should have ties to reliable adults specifically FOR their safety #ie they can have people to turn to if they need a good role model or if they want proof they can grow into a queer adult #or -- most importantly -- if any other adults are being creepy towards them they'll know someone who can DO something abt it #...but i also never felt safe being that kind of person if my blogs housed 18+ posts. ;;; #i'm not here to be any young person's BEST friend or anything but like. treating them like toxic gremlins is also absolutely not the vibe #bc they absolutely aren't. esp when lot of kids in selfshipping are more put together than some select-but-very-visible adults. cough. #💭 [ my thoughts. ]

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts. 

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening. 

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text. 

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.' 

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:' 

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?' 

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.  

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door. 

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-" 

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!" 

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe." 

With a weak smile, you headed off. 

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car. 

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window. 

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes. 

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'. 

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up. 

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you. 

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement. 

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand. 

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in. 

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in. 

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef. 

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen. 

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath. 

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-" 

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face. 

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost." 

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!" 

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight. 

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away. 

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips. 

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said. 

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter. 

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved. 

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped. 

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…" 

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. 

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie. 

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on. 

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be. 

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed. 

And in front of that crowd was Carmy. 

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning. 

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. 

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse. 

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes. 

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello". 

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen. 

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!" 

Your shoulder sagged. 

Home. 

You were home. 

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" 

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument. 

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker. 

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?" 

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay." 

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through. 

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him. 

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention. 

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you. 

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver. 

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out. 

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids. 

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again. 

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut. 

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. 

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you. 

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing. 

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something. 

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you. 

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy. 

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event. 

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh. 

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed. 

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces. 

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers. 

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself. 

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize. 

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said. 

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside. 

#the bear #carmen berzatto #reader #carmen berzatto x reader #michael berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #carmy the bear #richie the bear #mikey the bear #carmy berzatto imagine #richie berzatto imagine #mikey berzatto imagine #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto #neil fak

[thelovelylolly]

Hii, first of all congrats with ur followers, ur blog is awesome and u r so underrated! I was wondering if you could maybe do a frank castle x lil sister reader where frank after the accident with his family told her he didnt want her to have anything to do with her too "keep her safe" because we all know how he is like that. And then later on he finds out she became damn good navy pilot but got in a plane crash?

Sorry if this is too much lol ofcourse only write if you feel comfortable doing so :))

Fly Away

Summary : You brother, your best friend, pushes you way after losing his wife and kids to "keep you safe". But the next time Frank sees you, he may be too late. Warnings : you already know its angst time baby, mentions of death, mention of near-death experience, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, plane crash, platonic frank x reader! Notes : hi! thank you for the kind words and the request! i hope you enjoy it <3 (also sorry for taking so long to write and post this, ive been feeling under the weather for a few days but im feeling a bit better now!)

"You can't keep doing this, Frank! You can't keep pushing me away!"

You and Frank had been arguing with each other for at least an hour now. It had been a few months since he had lost his wife and kids, the funeral only being a week or so ago. He slowly drifted away from you in that time, trying to push you further and further away. As his only family left, you stayed by him through it all. You didn't want him to grieve by himself, you didn't want him to be alone.

"You don't understand," Frank grumbled in reply.

"I don't understand?! Tell me what I don't understand!"

"I've been fighting a war for years now and I come back to my family, to my wife, only for them to be taken away from me! I just got them back and now, they're gone! Every night, I have nightmares and now it's not just from those nights overseas. It's from that day at the park...the day I lost everything."

"But you didn't lost everything, Frank-"

"I did! I did lose everything that day! They were my everything. Maria, Lisa, and Frankie were my everything! They were my family, my life. They were the reason I fought for this country."

"So, what? A-am I nothing to you?" You asked, tears starting to sting your eyes. You didn't want to cry in front of your brother, but he just brushed you off like you were nothing. Like you were by his side through everything, through thick and thin.

"You know I don't mean it like that-"

"No, I know exactly what you mean. You don't want me here, you want me to leave you alone. Since you clearly don't care about me, I guess I'll be going."

You grabbed your bag and started towards the door. You knew Frank wanted to say something, but he just wouldn't. You stopped in front of the door, looking back at him.

"Maria was my sister. Lisa and Frankie were my niece and nephew. I loved them. They were my family, too. You weren't the only person who lost family that day."

With that, you left, slamming the door behind you. Frank stood still, holding back tears until your car drove off. Then, he broke down. He sat down on the couch and sobs racked his body. He shouldn't have said those things to you. You stayed by his side through everything and all he wanted to do was push you away, to keep you safe.

Frank got want he wanted and his house had never felt lonelier.

--

One year. One entire year passed since Frank heard from you. He was too busy seeking revenge for his family to try to contact you and if he did, it may put you in danger. Once he discovered what had really happened that day at the park and got the justice he wanted, Frank went underground.

He thought that was it. He would live with the nightmares of war and losing his family. He would live with the regret of pushing you away.

Until he saw a news story. 'TOP NAVY PILOT NEARLY KILLED IN CRASH.'

Frank thought it was nothing, but then he read the pilot's name. Your name. Frank immediately wanted to find you, to see you and apologize. He wanted to fix things before it was too late, but no one could reach him. He wasn't Frank Castle anymore.

So, he called in a favor from Madani. She helped him the best she could. She found the hospital you were at, scheduled a visit for him with his fake name, and made sure it would be private.

The day of the visit, Frank had drove to the hospital but hesitated going in. What if you didn't want to see him? Were you even conscious? How bad were your injuries? The thought of you laying limp in a hospital bed broke his heart. Maybe it was a bad idea to come-

No, he was your brother. He was the last of your family. He was going to see you.

Frank got out of the car and walked into the hospital, keeping his head low as he approached the front desk. The sweet lady at the front desk told him where your room was and he thanked her before going through the sterile halls.

He stopped in front of your door, your name being written on a small board in dry erase marker. No one else was in the hallway, but Frank could hear the hum of nurses and machines just around the corner. He kept looking at the room number and your name, like he was unsure if it was the right room.

Finally, Frank took a deep breath and pushed the door open. He braced himself for the worst. There you were, laying in a hospital bed with wires and tubes attached to you. You were looking out the window, at the sky. When the door shut, you finally looked over.

Your soft smile faltered when you saw Frank. You could already feel tears pooling in your eyes and your bottom lip begin to quiver. It took him a whole year and a near death experience to find you, but he was here now.

"Frank," you said softly, trying to smile through your tears.

Frank smiled back and quickly crossed the room to be at your side. He pulled up a chair and took your hand in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand.

"W-what are you doing here?" You asked, using your other hand to try to wipe away the tears that had slipped down your cheeks.

"I'm here to see you, I...I saw what happened and I was so scared that I would lose you. I-I needed to see you before it was too late," he answered, tearing up himself.

"I was scared I wasn't going to s-see you again, Frank. I thought I was going to d-die and never get to apologize."

"Apologize? Why would you have to apologize? I was the one acting like a jerk."

"I treated you unfairly, Frank. You were grieving and I wanted to be there, but you didn't need me there all the time. I should've just left you alone-"

"No. I should've let you stayed with me, I-I was being stubborn and I wish I didn't push you away. I regret that everyday."

You took a shaky breath and squeezed Frank's hand. "I wish I found you sooner. I missed you so much, Frank."

"I missed you, too."

He leaned forward and brushed a loose piece of hair out of your face and wiped some of the stray tears away. He then sat back in his chair, his hand still in yours. "So, flying, huh?"

You laughed. "Top of my class."

Frank stayed there for hours, holding your hand and talking to you. He missed this.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #platonic frank castle x reader #frank castle x sister!reader #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fanfic #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #frank castle angst #the punisher angst

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

Hey, by any chance, could you do a writing for reader insert, slightly less evil/redeemed Bill Cipher, hurt comfort? It's okay if you don't! (Note: I'm an angsty 18 on anon, but not nsfw or any the like in any way! You'll probably see my nsx vore blog if you answer this ask. If you ever get uncomfy then just block me :3)

(Hello! I’m sorry that it took so long to get to your request! I’ve been dealing with a lot recently. I was honestly not sure how to write this since Bill is a triangle, but I felt like I did fine. I hope you enjoy this!)

Watching Eyes

(A Bill Cipher Vore Fanfic)

Warnings: Themes of stalking and soft vore.

“Why hello, my dear! How have you been?” The familiar chaotic demon welcomed you warmly. You were the only one this triangle ever respected. You treated him with so much kindness that he became curious about you. At first, it started as simple observation. He would ask to go with you on your way to the store or on your way to the park, but this strange relationship started to mean more to him.

Bill has never actually experienced true kindness before you. Humans feared him while the other demons didn’t truly care about him, but you? You cared for Bill, which he slowly grew to appreciate. Eventually, the chaos demon asked you if you’d like to start a relationship. You said yes of course due to his charm and rather humorous personality.

However, today wasn’t really a great day for you. Something has been lurking and been trying to catch you for quite some time. Today, you saw the being on your way to the store. The man was in the parking lot, picking up trash, when you caught his eye. For some reason, he seemed to know you.

He watched you carefully as you walk into the store. You shrugged off the feeling of uneasiness before going in. However, this man only continued to show up more and more. You’d walk into one aisle? He’s now in the same aisle as you. Deciding which soups to buy? He’s looking at a few soups ahead of you.

You tried shrugging it off once again. This was a small store, so maybe he was just trying to shop. However, he never picked up any items. The man also kept looking at you through his peripheral vision. You didn’t truly realize that he was stalking you until you made it halfway to your house.

It was there that you saw the man, jumping behind a bush as soon as you turned around. You gasped with shock. The only thing that you could do was run. So, you ran all the way home, never looking back. Once you got to your safe place, you locked the doors and waited until Bill came home.

You shook your head at the memories and turned to face Bill. “Jeez, you look more shaken up than I was at my last party. What happened?” He was puzzled over the many ways someone would have upset you. “A man..followed me.” You shook as you wrapped a soft blanket around yourself.

Bill growled with a low, menacing tone, “Did he put his hands on you?” You shook your head. “No. He was watching me in the parking lot. Then, he followed me inside the store and he continued to follow me when I was close to home.” Bill’s growl only continued to grow louder.

“That’s disgusting..I may be an interdimensional demon who has done many horrible, yet funny, things in my past, but I would never do anything like that.” You look down and curl up even further in your blanket safety net. Bill sighed before looking at you with the utmost sympathy.

“Would you like me to nom you? I know how much you love it.” Bill asked, sincerely. You nodded as you got up and approached him. “Alright then! Don’t worry, you’ll be completely safe.” His eye turned into a gaping maw, which quickly lowered itself upon you.

The soft walls of flesh cradle your body as you slid down his throat. Warmth enveloped your form, causing you to relax almost instantly. You closed your eyes as you continued to be pulled into his body. Eventually, you reached the demon’s stomach.

The walls looked like a galaxy full of stars. It was rather hypnotic and oddly calming. You smiled to yourself as you curled up against the soft walls of Bill’s belly. From the outside, you can hear Bill chuckle quietly. “If that man ever comes near us again..I’ll rip him to shreds and scatter his remains across the multiverse.”

“Just make sure to not get caught.* You yawn quietly as your eyes grow heavy. The soft heartbeat of the demon was enough to soothe you. Bill said one last thing before you fall asleep. “You don’t need to worry about anything anymore.”

#comfort vore #safe vore #soft vore #vore writing #bill cipher vore

[popculturebuffet]

Breaking Cat News Retrospective: Year One: On The Air! (Comissioned by Emma Fici)

In Loving Memory of Stewie Magilcutty Mattingly 2006-2023 "A Legend that Will Live Forever"

So a few months ago I had some great fortune: I was getting back into comic strips, one of the great loves of my life and one I haven't indulged in on this blog nearly as much as I should. I never stopped reading them all together mind you, but I wasn't reading them daily and now I have it's through enjoyment. I found newer strips to adore like the nostalgic best friendship of crabgrass, the sibling chaos of Rosebuds and the charming reboot of heart of the city, found long running strips i'm now a huge fan of like Safe Havens, ON the FastTrack, and Kevin and Kell, all by one Bill Holbrook as well as Jumpstart which isn't but is fun, and reconnected with strips I hadn't really read daily like wallace the brave and phoebe and her unicorn. But while all of these are great and many will be talked about on here at some point (I'm saving K and K for 2021) out of all of them it was the one of the last ones I binged.. that ended up being my clear favorite and despite it only having been a few months, has worked it's way into being one of my favorite comic strips of all time.

Now i'd been planning to start covering it next year for it's 10 year anniversary.. but then something terrible happened last sunday that sped up plans: My cat Stewie, with me 17 years, had passed away. See reading the strip i'd related a lot of the antics to stewie, especially since my faviorite of the cast happened to also be an honry 17 year old cat. So I felt one of the best ways to honor my fur buddy.. would be to move this up and thankfully my friend Emma, who i'd gotten into the strip agreed to sponsor it. So with the time finally here those few of you who are either loyal readers of mine or just found this might need an intro

Breaking Cat News is a comic strip by Georgia Dunn, and this all started one day nearly 9 years ago when her cat Lupin knocked over a lamp and broke it. Her other two cats, Elvis, the older cat I mentioned and Puck, the gentler middle child, came to investigate and soon Georgia was improvising reporter voices for them… and it made her and her husband Ryan laugh so much she quickly made it into this comic.

She did what most would do and shared it with friends and what not and it spread around so much she decided to make some more… and they proved so popular she made a website, and the rest was history. THe strip was intially a self published webcomic, done in long form sunday like strips, before being picked up by Andrews McMeel aka Uversal Uclick, one of the two major comics syndicates who replayed the strip on their website , and it got popular to the point they published a collection, published more and eventually picked the strip up for dalies.

The strip has not only been a highlight of my day.. but something I love for it's wonderful fan community, who not only flooded my mentions with their condolences over my death, but have been one of the nicest comments sections iv'e found, as my talking on and on about these characters is not only apricated but encouraged and Georgia herself is a throughly kind person who not only comments occasionally but genuinely engages with and apricates her fans. So as such i've been chomping at the bit to do this longform and i'm happy to finally do so. So join me under the cut for a look at BCN's first year on the air as you meet Lupin, Elvis and gentle Puck as they hit the air.

BCN has a very simple, yet brilliant setup the above strip nicely highlights: three cats living in a big pink house report on the various goings on in said house as professional news reporters.. while still, having the logic and actions of a cat. For instance the endless struggle of a cat getting on the counter, table or what have you and having to scoop them off becomes our heroes trying to figure out why the humans guard the counter so jealously.. and also leads to one of my faviorite lines in the entire strip

Some day I will be able to use that panel, as i've used many of this strips for reaction images. Another reason why I wanted to do this really, to show where those panels are from and hopefully get more eyes on the strip.

Anyways like most comic strips the first yearcan feel a tad off in hindsight. Bloom County lacked focus and took a while to assemble it's early cast, with Opus finally bringing it all together. Snoopy was a very regular dog for several years who just happened to like eating candy instead of the imaginative weirdo we all know. Calvin caught Hobbes in a tiger trap, something never brought up again, as was his time in scouts. For Better Or Worse was more a bunch of domestic punchilnes instead of the generational family dramedy it became and all the better for. Every strip, and most works in general, take a bit to become their best self.

For BCN it's the fact the characters start out far less defined. Over time the cats would gain really fleshed out, dynamic, utterly wonderful personalities but for the first few months, their basically all the same person with their quirks only really hinted at. Again this is fair: Georgia was just playing off the very concept at first and likely didn't have much of an idea at first where to go with this beyond the cats just playing off The Woman and The Man (her and ryan's avatars). IT's not bad at all, but it feels weird to go back to after getting so used to what the strip becomes; a multilayered world with it's own history seperate from it's real world inspirations, a colorful and expansive side cast, and each of our main cat cast and our two human adults feel like well thought out fully formed characters. At this point it's just three interchangable cats, a fourth outside we'll get to, and two humans. It's not bad, but it is worth noting just how weird it feels while also reading the daily strip, which still has plenty of reality based antics but also has as much chaarcter humor as it does cat humor.

As Year One goes on though the cats slowly came into focus. So let's meet them shall we?

First up we have our man on the desk, 50's style reporter Lupin. Lupin was in real life adopted last out of the original trio as a kitten having been found with his various brothers and sisters in an abandoned apartment, carelessly abndoned. Lupin contracted a fever which as his intial fosters found, left him deaf, though nicely his disablity is just a part of him and only comes up once or twice in storyline, while still being compesnated for and given resonable acomindation when needed, as he relies on the teleprompter as seen in one strip where he dosen't realize a cricket's chirping is harming his friends ears for obvious reasons. He's a curious troublemaker, with a love of knocking thigns over, exploration, and teasing eldest cat Elvis

Next up is Puck, a black kitty with only three paws. In real life, puck was rescued from a concerned neighbor who noticed he had an infection and whose owners didn't care if he lived or died. He lost a limb, but eventually gained a forever home with the Dunns. Puck is gentle, sometimes shy, but always kind and upfront.

Elvis is a cranky siamise and older burnt out hardhitting journalist. He is the oldest of the cats and the only one in real life (it's unknown if this carries to the strip) who wasn't a shelter baby, with Georgia instaead adopting him from a farm while she was still single. Elvis is quick to anger, distrustful as heck to strangers, and clingy as heck to the woman. There's a good cat underneath it, and he loves his brothers and mom dearly.

IF your wondering who that strange cat in the rad hawiaan shirt is , we'll get to him later.

Story wise in contrast to the later years having frequent arcs mixed with one offs or one weeks dealing with various cat issues, the first year of strips is mostly just varoius shenanigans though a few running gags are set up that run into present day. Besides Elvis' on and off rivalry with the man and the leaves we have The bi monthly 2am running of the cats…

Our boys love of bacon

Their off hours wrestling league BCW, B C DUB, B C DUB!

Georgia is a wrestling fan herself, and it shows as most of the bcw gimmicks are in some way based on actual wrestlers, with Elvis wearing a singlet similar to Jerry the King Lawler, and Puck wearing an outfit similar to jesse ventura with the cadance of the macho man randy savage.

Story wise there's only three major beats and all are fairly loose, with the final one being the centerpiece of a story arc more like the ones we get later: a full on story followed to the end either over a few months or over about a month. The first is Georgia recapping her own real life pregnancy and eventual birth of her son, known her as the baby, the toddler and later the boy. The cats do their best ot help even fi they dont' quite understand

The actual arival slightly baffles Lupin and Puck but they come to accept their new roomate. Elvis… is a bit of a harder sell

It takes a while but eventually he softens on the boy too… if through shared trauma

It's fairly loose in contract to how later arcs go, but it makes sense as this was closer to the real life events presumibly, versus say the adoption of later cats, which has more of an arc to it.

The second dosen't payoff till the next year when they meet, but we do get the introductions of Sir Figaro Newton (Fig for short) and Tabitha, the cats living above our heroes (In real life it was reversed. )

They have their own running of the cats but we'll get to meet them in full next time.

For now though there's just one major arc and it start with a simple running gag. We're now circling back to that outdoor cat, as you simply must meet Thomas, Thomas, aka Admiral Thomas Whistchester, better known as Tommy! Tommy is based on a friends cat who had his own facebook, shared with his roomate sophie (who we'll also meet next time) before his sad passing, though you can still find it today to see plenty of the delicate artiste herself. He's a fluffy boy who just wants to be friends with our cats who all regard him with suspcion but Elvis in paticuarlly gets extra puffy and extra paranoid about their new pal

I also like his fun hawiaan shirt, which fits his party animal lifestyle well. I love the costuming for the cats, with each's outfit perfectly fitting their personality: Lupin has a full suit jacket which both nicely contrasts his chaotic nature as the strip goes and fits his usual roll as desk anchor, Puck has a simple but stylish white dress shirt and tie and Elvis has a more 70's suspenders and dress shirt combo. It's simple stuff but it shows off who they are and it's a key part of any comic strip, especially, even with the strip having alternate outfits for sleep and such, when they'll likely wear said outfit for the whole run of the strip. He's a nice kind guy. He even has a friend in louie, a skunk who sprays lupin who we've only seen all of twice in two decades despite being the coolest dude on the planet.

This also shows Lupin slowly growing closer to Tommy, a friendship that will presist throughout the strip. For his brothers though, it'd take quite the ordeal.. which starts as many tales do.. with Elvis's overestimation of what he can handle getting out of hand

Three hours later snows coming down, the rest of our heroes are panicked and Elvis himself is lost, cold and hungry.. when he runs into our boy Tommy… at first he's as receptive to his help as someone of his station and dignity would be..

To me this is where the strip grows the beard: in just three strips we've gone from the usual shenanigans.. to Elvis fighting to surivive. Not that the stakes are always high nor do they need to be: the slice of life feel of the strip is one of it's draws. But by raising them realisticly just a touch it forces Elvis to let his guard down and shows tommy as more than just comic relief, but a cat whose lost.. and willing to help others not loose what he had simply because he's that kind. It's the kind of depth that carries comedically and dramatically for the rest of the strip that up to this point had only barely been touched. This is where they cease being maybe one trait that's ignored if needed and ebcome the fully fleshe dout fur babies I know and love.

We then get the full story of how Tommy ended up like this, with Lupin finally truly warming up to him, realizing he's not so diffrent.. and fully being touched by Tommy offering up his bed.. while badly missing his family

The next morning tommy gets our hero home, greatful and with a new friend

But… Elvis realizes he can't leave things and having seen the sign we saw earlier takes a giant risk

The people recognize tommy, and call his woman, who will be both one of The Woman's closest friends and easily the biggest recurring human character outside the big pink house going forward. We get the tearful reunion you'd expect and badly hoped for

Turns out he was only a few blocks away, which is also nice setup as it means he can visit again after this. But for now he gets properly aquanited with our cast

And leaves to go to his happy home.. but with a reminder that wherever he goes.. he's one of them. A great way to end a great arc.

This christmas arc is one of my favorites of the series even now: Emotional, touching and perfectly in line with the season and it nicely sets the tone for everything to come. While things won't be this harrowing, our cats world is about to grow exponentially from here on out. So join me in march as the world gets wider, our heroes make some new friends, deal with some new babies, and things only get better from here. Thanks for reading.

#breaking cat news #georgia dunn #comic strips #cats #lupin #elvis #puck #tommy #the woman #the man #comics #kittys

[penig]

The “Dickens Daily” and “Great Expectations” tags have been singularly useless to me, and I can’t tell whether no one is blogging on Great Expectations or the search engine is screwing up more than usual. So it seems to me that the best thing I can do is, to blog on it myself and hope that this changes something. We are up to Chapter VIII, but I seem to have weirdly little to say about the meeting in the graveyard and the Christmas convict hunt across the marshes - though what possessed anyone to take Pip on that is more than I can imagine.

To someone like me whose adult literary life was focused primarily on work for young people, and who is still not much impressed by most modern mainstream adult literature, the vividness with which Dickens recalls how the growing brain thinks is striking. Young Pip probably did not have the word “farinaceous” in his everyday vocabulary, but “it seemed to me that he must be a very happy man indeed, to have so many little drawers in his shop” is a pristinely childish sentiment, and the personification of the seeds and bulbs, the confusion of corduroy and seeds, and the observations about how all the tradesmen in the street except the watchmaker seemed to spend their time watching each other all march in the same clear-eyed but undeveloped train. This childish perspective is what makes the phatasmagoria of Satis House and its inhabitants simultaneously so dreamlike and so convincing. PIp has no context for anything and must rely on precise observation to orient himself and stay safe (not that he has ever felt safe, poor boy!) and build up some kind of coherent worldview out of the nonsensical world adults hustle  him through.

And it is adults hustling him; the entire adult world, so far, Joe only excepted. Estella is the first person his own age to enter the stage, which gives her considerable importance; and even she seems adult to him. He puts this down to her being pretty and female; but she also is in the position of being in her own familiar context, and knowing what is required of her, and of him. It is Pip’s (and her!) great misfortune that she is not allowed to enlighten him or make anything easier or pleasanter for him, even if she wants to - and we cannot tell if she wants to. Does she enjoy having someone to lord it over? Or is she adhering to what Miss Havisham has instructed her to do against her own inclination to seize upon an equal and make a friend, in the same confused amalgam of fears and conceptions under which Pip labors daily?

Pip at least has Joe. Estella has no one, except Miss Havisham, compared to whom PIp’s sister is - if not exactly benign - at least moderately comprehensible.

The notion of Miss Havisham’s daily routine boggles my mind. Has she never been out of that outfit since her wedding day, or does she take it all off in the evening and don it all again in the morning, tattered stocking and all? Both options are as ludicrous as they are horrible, and I cannot choose between them, except that if she never took them off at all, they would be grimy as well as yellowed and brittle, and I am sure Pip’s keen observing eye would have noticed that.

#great expectations #dickens daily #literature #non sims

[livia-dovehallow]

chot asks continued!

hi! I love the way you answered all those chot questions, lately there is a lot of hate toward [redacted] and people being [redacted], and this feels like a safe space, so thank you for that

I hate seeing people hate on [redacted], and even [redacted], and I am sad for that

**SPOILER WARNING**

original ask:

hi! I love the way you answered all those chot questions, lately there is a lot of hate toward Christopher and people being happy he died because he said that Grace was also abused and that he understimated James trauma, and this feels like a safe space, so thank you for that

I hate seeing people hate on him when he is such a good boy, and even being happy he is dead, and I am sad for that

////

these haters must know better than to come onto my blog with that shit i suppose because i haven't seen any of this christopher hate LMAO

Christopher Lightwood has never done anything wrong in his whole life. He is a good, kind boy with a slightly unhinged love for explosives. He stood up for Grace because he firmly believed that she would not have made those choices if she hadn't felt like she had to. He's the only person who believed that and stuck to his guns about it, even when challenged.

Cecily and Gabriel raised him well. He is just genuinely a Good Person with a Pure Heart. They ought to be extremely proud of him (and I am certain they are).

HE DID NOT DESERVE TO DIE

this is a Christopher Lightwood support blog. we love Christopher Lightwood in this house. Christopher Lightwood lives on in this house. what is canon?

i am very glad you find my blog a safe space, anon :D i strive for that!

#maggie answers #kind anons #chain of thorns #chain of thorns spoilers #chot spoilers #cot spoilers #the last hours #the last hours spoilers #tlh spoilers #spoilers

[mychaoticcryhole]

hi tumblr.

Hello again to my old friend. I used to blog all the time when I was in high school. Freshman, sophomore year my blog was the most perfectly curated version of myself. Always with a perfect layout and fun little things that made me feel special online. I overshared, of course. I showed myself, my friends, told everything. I cried writing my posts, I smiled, and I look back on those posts now so thankful that all those years ago I had nothing better to do than sit around and just throw all my thoughts into the universe and hope someone gave a shit to read them. I felt alone. I had one place to put everything and just leave it. Whether I was just sharing pictures that displayed words I couldn't think of or I was actively pouring out my soul and using my own words, my blog was a safe space. A true reflection of myself. And I really believe that outlet helped me in a time when I needed it most. So again I am here. Desperate to find a way to get back to me. Or to whatever me looks like these days.

Now I am 29. I began my last blog at 14 or 15. Things have changed so much, obviously. And I often think about what that 14 or 15 year old me would think about where I am today. As much as this is the life I would've wanted, it doesn't feel like that at all. I have a "good" job. I own my own house, own car. I am married to a wonderful man, my absolute best friend. I inherited his family and I have my family. There aren't many of us, but I have a relationship with them. I have a solid relationship with my very best friend and I get to watch her raise her own family (which is so crazy because looking back on my old blog, we never even imagined babies) and I am surrounded by so much love all the time.

But also nothing feels that good. At all. Everything kinda sucks. I have a lot on my plate. My "good" job feels like a lot more responsibility than I want. I know that I am overworked and underpaid. I feel invisible although I know the work that I do is important. I push myself so ridiculously hard to be the best because I know I can. And I know I can always do better. And my job takes full advantage of that. I am stressed all the time and feel like theres no rest. Ever. That place has taken a complete hold over what feels like every part of my mind. My family is dealing with their own shit. I feel like we are the perfect example of putting on a front for the world and just being the biggest shit show under the surface. I love my parents, and as I continue to get older I see them for what they are - just normal people who had kids and now just kind of have to figure it out. I see them move like normal people. Like I would move with my friends or in my relationship. And I see where things are hard. And I can see why things are falling apart in the way that they are. But I also wish they could just find a way to be done and both thrive. And I don't know how we do that. And I also don't know why I have allowed this to be such a large stressor on myself.

I think at this time I'm in a weird transitionary period of my life where I am ready to let everything go. I want to ditch every half-assed friendship that doesn't feel right to me. I want to surround myself with people on my same wavelength. I want people in my circle with my same energy, who think highly of me, like real, unconditional love. I don't have much faith in people anymore. And maybe I am just meant to be that person that only has the one best friend alongside my husband. And I am getting to a place where I am finding that to be okay. But I will need somewhere to dump all my shit. And this is that place.

#personal

[handpickedberry]

return for holidays 🎉

back in this account after more than a year, i think!!

for quite a long time, i’ve been wanting to start a blog of my own at substacks but i guess regularly writing a full blog is too energy-consuming for someone who easily gets tired like me so i decided to just use my tumblr acc for my life sharings.

what prompted this was this: i just had the happiest holiday i have ever had my whole life! even though i don’t celebrate christmas, i did share this day with my girlfriend who filled my heart with so much love and joy. i have always had my family to celebrate holidays with; sometimes i also visit my cousins. but it never made me feel this happy because all my life, i never really got to have a genuine connection with them. i’m not a family person and i know i’m not to blame because my family’s not a family person with each other, either. we weren’t really that affectionate and open towards one another. i guess we could even be considered as “housemates who happen to have blood relation” because that’s us! we’re not like other families who tell each other about their personal lives and problems and other stuff like that. there has always been a wall among all of us and though i grew used to that and eventually learned to accept it, there are still times that i wish i could have a happy kind of family. a loving kind. the type that knows each other, not just on a surface level. the type that you could genuinely, happily celebrate special moments with not because you have to for the sake of them being your family, but because you truly want to and they’re the best people in your lives. we still do regular family things like making sure there’s food for the others to eat, showing up and gathering for important events, yada yada yada, stuff like that. but the genuine enjoyment & contentment was rarely there because they didn’t know me and i didn’t know them the way we should have as a family.

because of this, my holidays has always been pretty lonely. there’s food, there’s them, there’s fireworks and noise all around, but no happiness shared with each other. no love tying all of us together. no special memories made with one another that we could look back on. being a big love person, it’s certainly not how i want my holidays to go but i’ve gotten used to it and i didn’t even wish to have something different. i guess, holidays just began to mean less to me. just another vacation, another season, another night, another socially constructed expectation.

until i met my girlfriend! in total contrast to me, my girlfriend truly LOOOVES holidays and is actually the most excited person i know when holiday season hits. it’s endearing and it’s lovely, to see someone glowing with thrill and excitement, and becoming one with the happiness around them.

today is december 25, their christmas day and i have just gotten home from our date. i left the house early (at 10am) to come over to theirs and we spent the whole day together. doing the things we love the most, having quality time together, watching, eating, napping, laughing, kissing, and other -ing things 😁 today, we reminded each other of how much we love each other. today, we shared assurances, sweetness, gentleness, and every kind thing that we could share together. all in their bedroom. after that, we went to the mall and ate dinner together then watched a yuletide show which was followed by a short fireworks display.

the thing is, today was simple. there wasn’t much of a grand event or a big celebration, but it was still so so special and the happiest because i shared it with my girlfriend. the whole day, the weather was so nice and the atmosphere was just… light. to quote david levithan’s Every Day, we were in the “temperature of happiness”. everything felt right. warm. safe. i was home with them and i have never felt this contented with anyone else before. we never stopped holding each other, taking good care of each other, saying “i love you” to each other. we fed each other, laughed together, acted like kids and found joy in little things, made really simple & special memories together, and just had an absolutely wonderful time together. there wasn’t a single dull moment.

i’ve never had that during holidays. and now that i did, it just filled me with so much love and joy because i never thought i could have it. all these good feelings inside me made me want to share it with the world, so i could capture this day into words, and remember that today, december 25 2022, i had my first happy holiday. i even reactivated my private twitter account for this but i decided to just do it here because i knew it would be long and i wanted it to be somewhere open but also at the same time, just mine.

i’m truly grateful for my girlfriend. what makes this happiness more special is that we have just gotten through a rough patch in our relationship which hindered us from feeling this kind of happiness for a while. having this again, sharing this again with them, i could cry from utter joy. all the emotions i have right now, they are bigger than me and they are surrounding me with so much warmth and security. i’m so relieved and i’m so glad to be alive with them. i don’t celebrate christmas but this kind of love, the one that we have, is truly something to celebrate. my heart is overjoyed because it is able to beat with someone else’s, with just the right rhythm for the perfect song. and me? i’m just genuinely beyond elated that i’m part of something bigger than me.

i don’t believe that today is really Jesus’s birthday. but if somehow most christians are right, then i’m glad i got to celebrate it with the most precious and amazing gift that He and God have ever given me.

happiest holidays, everyone! i wish all would always get a day just like mine 💜

🍓

#berryblogs

[wallflowerimagines]

Hi! I looove your posts! Thank you so much for sharing your writing!

I was wondering… could you maybe write about the Four Lords with a shy S/O that gets bold and defensive when someone insults the lords? or calls them names? And the Lord’s reaction to the S/O acting different? Dk if im explaining myself >.<

Again! Love your work! Have a great day!

We stan protective partners on this blog!!

Warnings: uh...insults? They're pretty over the top😅 Also swearing.

Alcina Dimitrescu

Honestly, Alcina is more than able to defend herself.

She's got a tongue like a viper, and the thickest skin imaginable. If you really want to hurt her feelings, you have to be someone whom she already respects to a certain degree, or she won't even be phased.

Still, when she leaves a room, there's always some idiot that thinks it's a smart idea to talk shit.

Maybe it's a maid, maybe it's a guest in the Castle, but either way you're not having it.

"God, you're annoying." There was a pause before they opened their mouth again, and you rolled your eyes. "No please, by all means, continue to share your lack of taste with the rest of us."

You disassemble this dumbass, starting small with comments about their personality (trying to keep it classy), but escalating the more they choose to double down on the comments.

Alcina comes back into the room to find you practically screaming at this asshole.

"Look, all you have accomplished here today is revealing that you are a fundamental disappointment on every possible level. My life is worse now that I've heard you open your mouth, you disrespectful, shit licking worm fucker."

Alcina is stunned. You do not give off "aggressive guard dog" vibes at all, yet here you are defending her tooth and nail. While she had seen brief moments of your inner strength and protective streak (mostly towards her daughters) she just...never thought you would do the same for her.

It's not because she doesn't trust you or love you! But nobody has ever done something like this for her before? Ever? She's never had anyone try to protect her--not physically, and not even verbally. She's been so independent for so long that it's... Strange to see you support her so openly.

She doesn't need you to do this for her, she doesn't even expect it, but you do it anyway for no other reason than the fact that you love her. You want people to give her the respect she deserves.

I'm going to be real here: Alcina has never been closer to swooning before in her life. You're overcoming your shyness because you believe in her so much-- it's not a gesture meant to be romantic, but Alcina can't help but see this as a massive statement of your commitment to her.

Seriously. This is such a massive thing for her that if proposals weren't already on her mind, she is mentally picking out a ring for you the minute this happens.

Then, of course, she glides into the room, kisses you until you're breathless and babbling, and smirks at the unfortunate peon who thought they could get away with insulting House Dimitrescu.

She's in such a good mood that she's considering going easy on the idiot. Maybe removing their tongue would be enough of a warning?

Donna Dimitrescu

You don't really know how it's possible but apparently some people don't like Donna Beneviento? Some people think she's scary and unpleasant????

Wild. Can't imagine what that's like.

The two of you are honestly the sweetest, most toothrottingly adorable couple-- blushing when you hold each other's hands, sneaking glances at each other across rooms, giving each other kisses and forgetting whatever was on your mind...

Honestly, anybody who's critical of your relationship with your girlfriend is just a hater. Fuckers can pound sand😤

Still, you are pretty shy, so it takes a lot for you to defend yourself if someone comments about you. It can take a lot of courage to stand up against rude remarks, and sometimes it's easier to walk away.

Defending Donna, on the other hand?

The minute someone even thinks about dismissing her, you are ready to throw hands.

"My lovely girlfriend already said no, meaning you're either deaf or too stupid to pick up on simple social cues," you purse your lips and give the rude and pushy Villager a patronizing once over. "You and your opinion are equally useless. Get the fuck away from us."

Donna blinks.

She... Was not expecting this??? At all?? You're so nice! You always tell her about your attempts to avoid confrontation! What's going on??? How did you get the guts to say what she's always wanted to say?

Meanwhile, Angie is LIVING.

The little doll chimes in to assist you with the verbal homicide, working as a tag team to absolutely murder this moron. She's half partner, half hype man, and is so excited to do this with you. Normally, she has to protect Donna all by herself, but she's relieved and reassured that you stepped in first.

'USELESS IS TOO NICE, THOUGH! THAT IMPLIES THEY AREN'T A POINTLESS, RANCID, LONELY FREAK. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY CRY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE.'

You high five Angie, still glaring daggers at the unfortunate villager.

The two of you continue to ream into the villager, while Donna hovers nearby.

As surprised as she is, she's also grateful. She's only really ever had Angie to help shield her from insults and disrespect (and occasionally inducing horrifying hallucinations that make people claw off their own skin), but having you in her corner makes her feel safe.

Not to get totally sappy, but you're like her knight in shining armor in a lot of ways. And the fact you two are so similar is really motivating-- She wants to one day be confident enough to return the favor. Until then, she's happy to watch her two favorite people have fun insulting some stranger ❤️

Salvatore Moreau

With you being so shy, Salvatore is surprised how often he takes the lead in your relationship.

He's not normally all that outgoing, but you seem to bring out a side of him that's very protective. Whenever you have a bad day he wants to bundle you up and keep you safe from the world.

If he so much as holds your hand you start stuttering and avert your gaze. It creates a feedback loop where you both get flustered, but Moreau has never felt steadier. Despite your shyness, you make sure he knows how much you love him.

You're sweet as pie and twice as kind--Salvatore is the luckiest man in the world, nobody can convince him otherwise 💕💕

So it comes as a total shock that when a passing fisherman spits in your path and calls him a freak, your entire demeanor does a 180.

Your posture straightens and you look the villager dead in the eye, "I don't believe anyone asked your opinion."

Salvatore: 😳

This is not the time, and he totally knows it, but, uh, something about your tone??? Really does it for him???

While he's attempting to process why exactly he's starting to short circuit, you proceed to verbally shred this person to bits with clinical efficiency-- nothing is off limits.

They might try to defend themselves, but it's useless. You do not let up.

"Ugly? Monster? Bitch your teeth are throwing gang signs, don't throw stones from your shining glass house."

You insult their appearance, what they're holding, their smell-- you get so fucking mean that you might even make them cry.

Moreau is just lost right now, trying hard to figure out how exactly you were able to gain all of this confidence so quickly.

He's not upset! In fact he's very flattered! But, he also doesn't want you to get into a fight with some unimportant stranger. (After all, if they so much as throw a punch, they're straight up dead. Moreau is a patient man, but he's not that patient. You do not hurt his partner and live to tell the tale.)

He may a healer but...

Eventually he steps between you and the fisherman in an attempt to deescalate the situation, but you just kiss him on the cheek and step around him, determined to make your point.

Blushing hard, Moreau lets you do what you want. What can he say? Fish man likes himself a protective partner 💞

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is not the most social guy to begin with, so any opportunities you have to stick up for him are already pretty slim.

He mostly knows you as the shy, sweet, easily flustered partner that lets out a cute squeak every time he sneaks up to hug you from behind.

Karl's honestly happy just to spend time with you all alone in the Factory. It's not the best or healthiest mindset, but he'd be perfectly content to only ever see you for the rest of his life. Spending time with anybody else feels like a boring waste in comparison.

But occasionally, you do head out into town with him. Heisenberg wants you to be safe so he doesn't do it often, but running errands with you is a weakness of his. It's domestic in a way that he's never experienced before.

He likes it ❤️

What he does not like is the shopkeeper starting to give their opinions on the quality of your relationship with him.

Most insults Karl will let slide because he doesn't particularly care. However if anyone makes a comment on how scared (shy) you look around him, how you must be being threatened into being with him, how poorly Lord Heisenberg is treating you...he won't stand for it.

But before his fingers can even twitch towards his hammer, you snap.

"You're clearly the blindest cocksucker I've ever met--so wipe the cum out of eyes and mind your own fucking business."

Karl does a double take.

He's heard you curse before, but quietly. The words coming out of your mouth are WILD right now, he has NEVER seen you so angry. You're defending him with the aggression of a wild animal, and it's simultaneously HILARIOUS, but for some reason he's also getting a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest?

He doesn't need you to protect him like this, but seeing you blatantly argue how much you love and cherish him in public reassures him in a way he didn't know he needed.

Still, hearing you call the shopkeeper "shit for brains" is the funniest thing that's happened in years.

Heisenberg starts laughing, and the more you shout at the idiot, the harder he laughs. Is it weird how hard he wants to kiss you right now?

Eventually, he just has to drag you away, cackling as you continue to shout insults at the unfortunate shopkeep. There's got to be an alley around here for some good old fashioned privacy 💕

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #angie the doll #swearing #insults

[slasherhaven]

I dont think ive see smth like this in your blog and im really sorry if im crossing a line, you dont have to do this but if you could, could you do vincent and any other slashers youd like with a unplanned pregnant s/o? Like they werent expecting it, how would they react? Im sorry again if this is too specific and out of your comfort zone!

The Slashers’ and their S/O reacting to an unplanned pregnancy:

Thomas Hewitt

A pregnancy can only be good news to Thomas (unless you know it’s going to put your health at risk).

He noticed that something wasn’t right but you both just thought you were sick. It was Luda May that pulled you to the side, telling you that you might be pregnant.

But you both agreed to not tell Thomas until you had taken a test and were positive, you didn’t want him to freak out over nothing.

When you tell him, you are nervous about his reaction since neither of you had talked about it. Even if Luda May had been hinting about grandchildren.

But as soon as you tell Thomas that you’re having his child, he is overjoyed!

He wants to be a father, to have a little family of his own. So what if it wasn’t planned? That doesn’t matter, he still wants this.

He’s smiling, placing a large hand on your stomach (even though you aren’t showing yet).

If you’re still worried about this unexpected turn of events, he would be there to comfort you and reassure you. Don’t worry, Y/n. He’s going to take good care of you and your child.

Michael Myers

You had every reason to be nervous about telling Michael about your pregnancy. You loved him, you really did, and you knew that he loved you but he wasn’t the most...nurturing person.

You really didn’t know what he would think or how he would react. 

Even if you don’t think he’s the monster people think he is, a part of you worries that he’d just leave if he decided this wasn’t what he wanted.

But you had to tell him, he was going to find out eventually anyway.

Just as usual, your announcement is met with stoicism. The emotionless mask doesn’t help either. But this is one of the main reasons he wears the mask, so nobody can guess what he is thinking.

He wonders if you’re scared that they’ll turn out like him. Would you love them anyway, just like you love him?

He decides that he’s not going to be a good father (whether that’s true or not is a possibly debatable) but he also decides that he is staying put.

You’re going to be caring for this child, right? 

You do notice that he’s much more gentle with you at all times. Maybe he cares more than he likes to show...

Jason Voorhees

You weren’t all that nervous about telling Jason about the pregnancy, you knew he would be there for you both and you knew he would be a good father.

When you told him, Jason definitely had to sit down. You’re pregnant? You’re both having a child. 

This is big news! His mother would be so proud!

After wrapping his head around it, Jason will pull you into an embrace. He’s going to be good for you, Y/n!

He hadn’t thought about starting a family with you until now but he quickly decides that he likes the idea lot. He likes the idea of raising a child with you, of being a father. 

And he’s going to do his absolute best to be the best father for his child. He’s excited to be taking this step with you.

Time to babyproof the cabin!

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms had noticed that something was right, he thought that you were sick. You did at first but eventually you realised what might actually be happening. So, you got a pregnancy test in the next delivery.

You didn’t want to say anything to Brahms until you were completely sure.

Turns out, you were pregnant and now you had to tell Brahms.

He’s not too pleased at first...neither of you had talked about this, he hadn’t even thought about having children. He doesn’t like surprises and he doesn’t like that he’s going to have to compete for your attention.

He might even sulk about it but he’ll slowly come around to it.

You’re having his child...you’re going to be parents...together...maybe this isn’t so bad.

He definitely needs some time to warm up to the idea but he will eventually, probably reluctantly apologising for how he acted.

Bo Sinclair

Haha, good joke...

...you are joking right? Right, Y/n?!

Well...okay, he guesses. It’s not like he could do anything about it now.

He’s going to pull away from you slightly at first, because he’s doubting his own capabilities as a father. He isn’t meant to have a partner, he isn’t meant to have a kids, a family, any of this...and yet here you were.

He stop pulling away eventually and make up for it. However, he becomes more attentive, more protective. Is pretty much going to try to turn you into a housewife type of partner. 

But it’s not like he’s going to be doing all the chores just because you’re pregnant.

If you’re down for that, great! If not, just tell him to relax. You’re pregnant, not dying. 

He’ll ‘deal with it’ but warms up to the idea more and more as the pregnancy progresses.

Vincent Sinclair

Is he surprised and worried about his abilities as a father? Completely. 

Is he going to let that get in the way of doing the best he can? Definitely not.

He’s in awe of you. He loves you so much and you love him, you’re going to have his child...

Just places his hands on your stomach even though you’re not showing yet, there is a baby in there, his baby. God, he loves you so much.

He hadn’t thought about children, this definitely wasn’t planned but if he was given the choice to change it, he wouldn’t even consider it.

He going to be pretty anxious about it though. Both for the future and wondering if his child will like him, but also for the present. He’s so worried about you getting hurt, he fusses over you all the time, but it’s sweet.

Lester Sinclair

You told him just after you found out, when he had come home and didn’t have anything else to distract him. You could just sit down and tell him and the two of you could talk about it for as long as you needed too.

Gets a little frantic when you tell him.

First he’s pulling you into a kiss because: this is great news! He’s going to be a dad! And you’re the one having his baby! He couldn’t be more thrilled!

But then he’s holding you at arms length, eyes wide as he asks you if he can do this.

He goes through every emotion in the book in under a minute. Just let him go through it and once he’s calmed down, assure him that he’s going to be a great dad.

Because he will be!!!

Bubba Sawyer

Raising a child in the Sawyer household would be chaotic to say the least and that was probably the main cause of your anxiety, since you knew Bubba would try his absolute best to be an amazing father and to be there for you.

You need to collect yourself before you tell him, because you’re going to need to calm him down and reassure him.

When you tell him, he is going to freak out a little. He’s just worried about what this means, are you going to be okay, is he going to be a good father, this house isn’t safe for a child!

Once you’ve calmed him down, he’ll actually be pretty excited about the idea of having a child.

The two of you will have your own little family! 

He’s going to give you lots of hugs and kisses while babbling happily, he loves you so much and can’t wait to have this baby now!

Billy Lenz

You knew this was going to be messy. Billy hadn’t exactly shown many signs of responsibility at all and he doesn’t really seem like the fatherly type. Not that he doesn’t have the love to give, you know he does. Just the idea of him raising a child...it’s not something that either of you considered.

But you were definitely pregnant, it was definitely Billy’s baby, and you were definitely going to have to tell him.

When you do tell him, he panics.

He can’t be a father! What?!

Yeah, he’s really freaking out. You’re going to have to comfort him and calm him down, assuring him that everything is going to be okay.

Billy’s just kind of rolling with punches. He really doesn’t know how he’s going to be a father but he loves you so much, so this is just something you’re going to do together. 

He figures that as long as you’re there, he’ll be okay, you’ll make sure that everything is okay. 

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Yes, you were nervous to tell him about the pregnancy. You had no idea how he would feel or what he would think.

But, of course you had to tell him before he found out some other way.

You weren’t even surprised when he barely reacted. He was thinking, you knew that, so you gave him a moment. This whole thing was a surprise for both of you.

“I had my suspicions” well, that wasn’t the response you were expecting. 

But of course he noticed the little changes in you. Your fatigue, any sickness you had been feeling. He knew the signs, he already suspected that you were pregnant. So, thankfully, it wasn’t a complete surprise to him.

You’ll never know exactly how he felt when he first started suspecting pregnancy but by the time you tell him about it, he’s already come to terms with it.

(He’s also aware that this would be good for keeping up appearances. He loves you, he does, but he can’t help that his mind often wanders to more logical pros and cons of things)

He gets a little...overbearing, but it’s honestly nice to get all that extra attention from him.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

You’re understandably nervous about telling Jesse, unsure of how he would react and already knowing about his past.

And when you do tell him...yeah, it brings back some less than happy memories. The last time he was going to have a child...well, it didn’t end well.

But you’re different. You know about what he does and you love him despite it. If you want to bring this child into the world, you know completely who they’re father would be and you’d love them anyway.

(Like with Asa, it would be undeniably good for his image, having a spouse and a child, but that’s not something that he’s making decisions based on when it comes to you)

It’s not always easy to throw off Jesse but this did it, and you’re just waiting for his reaction nervously.

Of course, he doesn’t say anything, but he guides you towards him. A hand resting on your stomach as he presses a kiss to your forehead. He’s telling you that he’s okay with this if you are.

Otis Driftwood

You’re not wrong for being a little nervous to tell him or have a child in the Firefly household at all.

I can completely see why you think he might react badly.

However, when you do tell him, he’s actually pretty calm. Sure, he’s surprised, but he takes it well.

Admittedly, he never thought about having kids, and if he did he might have even decided that he wasn’t interested in having them.

But you’re pregnant, you’re both having this child, and that’s okay.

He’ll pull you into him, smirking as he says something along the lines of “so we’re going to be parents, huh?” he’s a little surprised when you just pull him into a relieved hug, but returns it.

He’ll raise them ‘right’, whatever he considers to be right.

All he promises you is that he is going to be a much better parent than his were. That’s it, that’s all he wants to be and he will be.

Yautja (Predator) 

You find out at the exact same time. As soon as you start throwing up or just not feeling right, he’s taking you to get some medical attention.

And the medic tells you that you’re pregnant, as blunt as Yautja’s are.

Your mate is overjoyed. This is great news! 

Even if the two of you weren’t planning this, he still loves the thought of you carrying his child, of you having his child. Yeah, this definitely isn’t bad news to him.

But he understands if you’re kinda freaking out about this, it was a surprise to you both.

Still, he’s going to be right there for you. Super involved and supportive, assuring you that you’re going to have the best medical care (better than anything you could get on earth). It’s all going to be fine.

Gets ten times more protective, clingy, and affectionate.

#thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #billy lenz x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull x reader #otis driftwood x reader #yautja x reader #predator x reader #my writing

[animeomegas]

Omega!Sasuke - Domestic headcanons

Anon: I love your omega sasuke writings!! Their sooo cutee!Could I ask for fluffy domestic headcannons with omega sasuke and his mate pleeasee!

(Thank you so much! My omega!Sasuke writings have become something of a feature of this blog heehee. This ask is the oldest one I have, so I apologise for the wait <3<3 Enjoy)

Warnings: None.

Sasuke is not the most domestically skilled (although he’s not bad either), but he is definitely a homebody.

Sasuke is just the happiest when he’s at home. There’s no pressure, no judgement, no expectation, and for those reasons, it’s his favourite place to be.

And to share that space with someone he loves and cherishes makes him very happy. 

I want to write this by taking a look at a perfect day at home when neither Sasuke nor his mate has to work. 

Morning

Sasuke has always been an early riser. Never in his life has he been able to sleep in. Whether it was following his brother around, training, nightmares, or missions, Sasuke considers 7:30 am a lie in. Most people disagree with him. 

But something that has changed compared to all those times, is that now he likes to spend a few extra minutes in bed, taking in his alpha’s scent, and revelling in the warmth of another person. (He also sometimes leaves a few kisses on his alpha’s face but will deny it if he’s caught.)

Sasuke gets out of bed, gets dressed and goes downstairs silently. He always makes a pot of tea. 

Sasuke finds a great interest in tea as he gets older. He enjoys finding rare blends and brings back tea whenever he goes travelling. 

He sits and enjoys his tea on the porch in the peace and quiet of the early morning.

When he’s done, he waters the plants in your garden, mainly tomato plants.

He had started a small tomato garden after prompting from you and his therapist. Sasuke thought it was stupid, but you convinced him to give it a shot. After experiencing so much death, curating life was like a breath of fresh air. 

As an introvert, Sasuke enjoys spending this time by himself in the mornings.

When he’s done, he heads back into the kitchen and starts to cook breakfast for the both of you. 

And he can never keep the smile off his face when he feels your arms snake around his waist.

“Morning,” you whispered, leaning you head on Sasuke’s shoulder and watching him fry some fish. 

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep okay?” 

Sasuke hummed in the positive as you started to place kisses on his neck. You buried your face into his neck and took a deep breath. Sasuke huffed and pushed your face away.

“Go be useful and lay the table.”

You laughed and pulled away from him to do as you were asked, but not before giving him a slap on the behind. Sasuke rolled his eyes at your behaviour and swatted you away.  

Sasuke is the sort of cook who is very good at cooking a small collection of meals and as such, tends to lean towards traditional meals, the kind his mother used to make for him. For breakfast, he always makes fish, rice and miso soup.

You both always eat breakfast at your dining table. If you ever suggest eating it in bed or on the sofa, Sasuke will judge you heavily. He’s a dining room table only kind of guy.

Sasuke is very traditional in a lot of ways, and his mother and father always taught him that meals were eaten at a table.

 Afternoon:

The afternoon, the perfect time for errands and cleaning. According to Sasuke, anyway.  

As long as he doesn’t bump into anyone he knows, he actually finds running errands pretty relaxing.

Unfortunately, he almost always bumps into someone he knows, so you’re on errand duty, and Sasuke will stay safe inside his own house and clean.

He gives you a list of things to pick up. The list is very extensive and specific. And Sasuke will be grumpy if you buy the wrong kind of thing.

While Sasuke doesn’t have the largest repertoire of meals he can cook, he’s very good at cleaning.

He likes to keep a minimalist, traditional style, very similar to the style of the house he grew up in. This style only works with a tidy and clean house.

Sasuke gets stressed if his home space is messy, so he tidies and cleans every day unless he’s on a mission.

If he is on a mission and the house isn’t at least mostly clean when he gets back, he gets salty about it.

 “Sasuke!” you called out. “I’m back, can you help me with the bags?”

 He immediately shunshined next to you.

 You swore in surprise, dropping the bags that you had cradled in your arms.

 Sasuke was unperturbed, catching them smoothly with a muttered, “Don’t drop the bags,” before sweeping them into the kitchens.

 You stared after him from a moment.

 “’Don’t drop the bags’,” you mocked him under your breath.

 “I heard that.”

 You ignored him, walking into the perfectly clean kitchen. He managed to clean everything before you were done shopping? You shook your head in disbelief. Before you lived together, you would never have pegged Sasuke as the neat freak type, but he absolutely was. You can still remember the horror on his face when you spilled wine all over the tatami mats in your bedroom. You laughed lightly at the memory.

 “Did you pick up the aubergines?” Sasuke asked, rifling through the bags.

 “Yes, of course.”

 “And the green tea?”

 You huffed out a laugh and rolled your eyes.

 “I got everything you put on the list, Sasuke, I promise,” you put your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss him to shut up his nagging.

 Sasuke sighed quietly into the kiss, bring his arms up to wrap around your waist.  Eventually, you broke the kiss, but continued to rest your forehead against Sasuke’s.

 “The house looks amazing by the way, thanks for cleaning it,” you whispered.

 “If it was up to you, we’d live in squalor, so someone has to do it,” he grumbled, trying to cover up the pleased blush covering his face at your compliment.

 You just shook your head, leaning down to steal another kiss from your grumpy husband.

 Evening:

Evenings with Sasuke are very calm.

He enjoys an evening of coexisting while working on different tasks.

Maybe you’re sewing something and Sasuke is reading a book, his head on your lap.

Or perhaps you decide to do some writing while Sasuke gets some work done, shoulder brushing together.

He’s not one for talking, but casual physical affection with his alpha is something Sasuke loves.

Evenings like this after long missions, Sasuke often falls asleep on your shoulder, leaning instinctively into the warmth and comforting smell.

If he’s in a good mood, sometimes you can hear a few purrs escape, which is the cutest thing ever of course.

Sasuke’s purr is very quiet generally, but it’s a lovely sound. Every time he does it, it just fills you with a warm feeling.

Peaceful coexistence really it Sasuke’s bread and butter.

 You sat as still as possible on the sofa, supressing a smile as you felt Sasuke’s head get heavier and heavier on your shoulder. He was falling asleep.

 When you had first met, he wouldn’t have trusted you to tell him the time correctly, but now? Now, simply being in your presence put him at ease enough that he simply fell asleep.

 You turned ever so slightly to press a gentle kiss to his head. His hair was still slightly damp from his bath. He smelt clean and a little sweeter than normal. Sasuke had tried out a new shampoo when the shop had run out of his favourite one. You made a note to tell him that you preferred this one; it mingled much better with his natural scent.

 You looked out the window briefly, noting how dark it had become. You had to get yourself and Sasuke into bed soon, but you just didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

 The silence was suddenly broken by a quiet purring sound.

 Sasuke was purring into your neck.

 Well, now you definitely couldn’t wake him up.

 You could feel the vibrations from Sasuke’s chest on your arms, while his steady breathing tickled the hairs on your neck. You sighed in resignation. Guess you were stuck here for a little longer, not that you were complaining, of course.

 You grabbed a book from the side table to entertain yourself while Sasuke slept peacefully on your shoulder. Peaceful rest didn’t come often for Sasuke, so you weren’t going to be the one to ruin it.

#sasuke uchiha #omega!Sasuke #alpha!reader #gn!reader #alpha x omega #abo #omegaverse #Headcanon #imagines #reader insert #naruto #sasuke x reader #purring #scenting #sasuke really is adorable

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 3: Solterita

Welp, this story is running away with me, so here’s another chappie~! How far has it run away? FAR. Like, I’m kind of telling myself this is ambitiously indulgent, but I feel compelled to write it out. 

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, please let me know~!

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 15,000+

Summary: You're dead-set on not falling for Javier Peña. After relenting and letting yourself indulge in a passionate night with the roguish DEA agent, you're prepared to yield just a bit more. When he keeps surprising you, though, are you willing to succumb completely to the gravitation between you two? 

Warnings: More Javier Peña being infuriatingly sexy, adult language and situations, graphic descriptions of oral sex (f receiving), and salacious safety-first sex. Also have some fluff, longing, lust, and a pinch of angst. Some Semi-Dom!Javi in this chapter, and daresay, a Defiant!F-Reader? In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Chapter 1 - Nicknames | Chapter 2 - Tempest | Read at AO3

Taglist: @redsilentwolf28​ @just-here-for-the-moment​ @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​ @mandosmistress​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @omgreally​

Chapter 3: Solterita

Javier proves to be passionate and insatiable, both things you are riveted by and taken with, especially after he keeps you enraptured in your bed for hours while the storm rages on late into the night.

He's also ravenous, and not just in bed.

When you're not fooling around, he's eating you out of house and home, puckishly swigging the last of your beer while he lounges next to you in bed, eyes twinkling at you.

You're not even mad. If anything you're a bit embarrassed to only have dregs in the fridge, beer and junk food your meager offerings. You both share a Solterita, having cajoled Javi to try it when he admitted to never having the treat. His rueful smile when he hums in delight is too damned cute, and you have to remind yourself that you cannot be smitten with him. Of course you tell that part of you to shut up and just bask in the moment, especially when he puts his arm around you and lets you relax while you idly chat.

Once you've shut off the lights, you both get under the covers, and before you can roll over, Javier is feeling you up, pulling you close and murmuring, "You're my solterita."

You snicker at the double entendre – of being his sweet treat and his single gal – and kiss him, tasting the tangy orange zest from the cookies on his lips and flavoring his tongue as you curl against him and hum into his mouth.

One more carnal romp later and you're both tangled in the sheets, panting and sighing in contentment. His hands are still clasped in yours into the pillows when he leans and presses his forehead against yours while he regains his breath. You squeeze them affectionately, which reminds him he's still pressing your arms down so he unlatches his hands and caresses them down your body. Once he's settled back under the sheets with you, he spoons up behind your form and holds you against him, fingertips drawing lazy circles along your lithe belly while he nuzzles your neck and begins to doze off.

At some point you fall asleep too, but occasionally stir when he moves against you, or when his adorable snore rumbles lightly against the back of your neck. When you wake next, you've both moved positions in bed, and you're now spooning Javi. Your arm is slung around his waist, and while you're sure it makes for a silly scene, you feel yourself melt as the tension eases from his back when you press a kiss to it and lay your cheek against it.

It's a few minutes before your alarm is set to go off when you wake again, and Javier is still in your bed, sleeping on his stomach while you've pressed up against him and slept with your head resting over his deltoid while your arm in draped across his lats. His breathing is deep, calm, and for the life of you, you could stay like this forever with him but instead you decide not to stir him as you carefully maneuver away. You silently switch the alarm off so it doesn't blare, grab up a change of work clothes, and sneak out of your room.

Once down the hall and in the bathroom, you go through your normal routine. You shower quickly, warm water heating your skin soothing, making you realize how sore your muscles are. Your thighs ache in the best way, the dull throb in your core making you smile into the water as it rains down your head. Once you're in front of the mirror over the sink, though, you're balking almost comically at the 'stash burn Javi's left on the side of your neck, just visible enough once you've combed your hair. It doesn't hurt, but looks a bit prickly, arcing red. Flushing, you hurriedly get dressed and toil with ways to conceal it, realizing the makeup you're dabbing on is no help at all, so you relent and decide to wear your hair down. A few massages of argan oil drops in the thick length, and you brush it over that shoulder to hide the side of your neck and tiptoe to the bedroom.

Javi is passed out still, and you just don't have the heart to wake him up. You sneak back down the hall and rush through grabbing up your discarded clothes from the night before and tidy up as best you can before glancing at the clock and realizing you spent way too long getting ready. Depositing things in the hamper before tiptoeing back into your room to get your shoes, you realize Javier's shirt is a raggedy mess, all rumpled and wrung out. You think fast – pilfer the pile of clean clothes in the basket to pull out something you think should fit him. Despite yourself, you smile, wishing you could see the look on his face when he sees what you've set out for him instead of the rumpled mess you leave tossed aside.

You barely make it to the embassy in time for your early morning staff meeting, having had to skip getting your favorite coffee to be able to breeze into the conference room without a minute to spare. Ellis is bouncing his eyebrows goofily at you from across the room, and you just roll your eyes. You half-listen to the meeting, only gathering that security were on high alert around the city due to the political strife and acrimony kicking up from the lawlessness of the cartels. You're picturing Javi on his back while you rode his cock last night, how he looked when he came, and the only thing that's able to snap you back to the meeting is the mention of Pablo Escobar and the Medellín Cartel; the warning that reprisals against government officials was a serious concern, so to restrict any unnecessary travel to regions known for cartel violence.

"Scary stuff! Damn narcos runnin' amuck out here," Ellis chortles as you both walk down to your department.

"You and Anita still going to Medellín this weekend?" you ask, making conversation.

While Ellis answers, you keep thinking of him, and you struggle to do anything but for most of the morning.

Meanwhile, just as you're redoing another spreadsheet you've messed up twice now, Javi is stretching sleepily on your bed and yawning into your pillow as he reaches for you and comes up empty. Grumbling, he rolls towards the side of the bed you were at and blearily glances around, forcing his hearing to strain for any indication of where you are. Then he sees the time on the alarm clock. "Shit," he mutters and sits up in bed, gaze swiveling around as he notices the subtle changes in the room. His clothes are folded and left on your dresser, and the sunshine is trying to peer into the room from the slats of the windows.

It takes a few beats to dawn on him. You snuck out to work and left him to sleep. The stealthy talent required to do such a thing impresses him as he reaches for his cigarettes and lights one before he stands and stretches the kinks out of his back. He's feeling mellow, good, as he smokes and heads over to grab his still slightly damp jeans, pulling them on and not even getting peeved that he'd have to wear them back to his place. Once he zipped up though, he realizes his shirt is completely fucked and is about to frown when he notices the t-shirt you've left under his folded belt.

On you, it's an oversized tent you can sleep in merrily, but on Javier Peña? The soft t-shirt isn't even long enough to be tucked into his jeans, not that he would once he's looked at himself in the mirror. Wearing the Gun 'N Roses band shirt with the logo emblazoned loudly on the chest, Javi huffs wryly and finishes his cigarette while he decides to get some payback on you by doing some snooping.

You're a clean and neat person, room appointed accordingly save for the basket still full of unfolded laundry in the corner. He puts out his cigarette and decides to clean up after himself, depositing the discarded buds and ash from the glass dish into the wastebasket and pulling the bag out to be tossed in the trash. Before he goes to do so, however, he notices the still ajar drawer of your nightstand. He pulls it open to peek in and see how many condoms you have left in the ceramic bowl when he catches the glint of a metal barrel.

Blinking at the sight, Javi reaches in and pulls out the Junior Colt, inspecting it. The safety is on, and it looks like it hasn't been fired, ever. In his hands, it looks petite and silly, but he pictures it in your grip, how your delicate fingers would wrap around it. He puts the gun back as it was and closes the drawer, grunting at himself.

Once he's tossed the wastebasket bag in the trash, he goes into your fridge and scowls. He grabs the juice carton and drinks directly from it, emptying it in several gulps before he tosses it to the trash as well. "Note to self: gotta go shopping later…" he mutters to himself as he lopes into the living room and sees you tidied up. He notices the potted plants on the table below the windows for the first time, cataloguing that you must have a bit of a green thumb, seeing how lush the leaves and pretty the flowers sit.

When he grabs his boots and socks, and sits on the chair adjacent to the couch to start putting the soggy things on, he notices something misplaced under the couch. Reaching over and snagging it, Javi can't help smirk. He raises the delicately sullied garment to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling blood rush down his body at the recall it triggers in him.

Panties tucked into his rear jean pocket, Javi secures his gun to the back of his waistband and grabs his jacket, pulling it on to conceal his weapon before he grabs his cigarettes and wallet from your bedroom and hustles out the door. The courtyard smells fresh and dewy from the storm as he saunters down the stairs and strolls at a brisk pace down the walkway leading out of the apartment complex. He goes to check his watch, and realizes he never even put it on before going out to wander the day before. As he goes, he passes a mature woman who's tending to her little patio garden and turns to watch him go. He notices that the tenants that are up and about are older, and decides to store the quirky detail away for later questioning.

He manages to flag a cab in the rush hour traffic and uses the ride to think about you. Did you not think you could wake him? Or were you so set on keeping any association between you both vague that you didn't want to chance being seen coming to the consulate complex together? Is this how it feels to do the walk of shame? He doesn't feel ashamed at all, so he grunts, feeling silly ruminating such curiosities when he's driven down the avenue and past the bustling coffee shop from yesterday, seeing the line out the door. Javier grunts to himself, and doubts you were able to get your fix. He thinks about how lovely you looked while smiling across him over your favorite cup of coffee.

Soon after, he's getting out of the cab before it's even finished coming to a stop in front of his apartment, paying the driver through the open window before rushing to take the steps up to the entrance door two at a time while he fishes his keys out of his jacket pocket.

Javier is stalking down the hall towards his apartment door, absently wondering if you'd ever want to come over to his place. Just as he's about to key into the lock, Steve's trudging down the steps at a gallop to bug him.

"Jesus, man. Where the hell are you coming from? You know we're late," the sardonic drawl echoes, and Javi ignores him as he unlocks his door. "You look like you slept in a gutter—"

"That's no way to refer to your sister's bed, Steve," Javier deadpans as he goes into his apartment.

"Fuck off, and just hurry up—" Steve's bark is cut by Javier slamming the door behind him as he rushes to do just that – get ready for a DEA-rrific day.

While the two plain clothes DEA agents saunter into their department for a turbulent week of strife ahead not more than half hour later, you're dragging through your morning, dying to do anything but stare at your computer. Even the glasses you wear to combat the eyestrain are no match for a coffee-empty system. You're so dazed that you almost forget about concealing your neck before you snap out of it and adjust your long hair to be swept back into place.

When you're coming back from lunch with Ellis, who is trying to convince you to come over for dinner and cards later as you both waltz over to your area – the droning of calls and frenetic typing an ambient buzz neither of you notice anymore – you're just about tempted to go try the terrible coffee in the break room when Ellis whistles next to you.

"Hah, you're grumpier than usual," he teases as he nudges you with his shoulder. "Does someone have a case of the Mon—?"

"Ellis, I will strangle you with your own necktie if you finish saying that," you threaten flatly, suppressing a yawn. "I just overslept. Not a great way to start the week," you lie smoothly as you turn down the path to your desks. After all, you started the week splendidly by being ravished all night by Javier Peña. But easygoing Ellis does not need to know that and become scandalized – and eager for details – from you telling him of the encounter. But you don't need to pretend you're not exhausted. It's not his fault you want to crawl under your desk and sleep your Javi hangover off, though. You're about to deflect and ask him about his weekend when you near your shared work spaces.

"Well looks like someone took pity on you and got you a coffee," Ellis muses as he goes to his desk and settles back in to where he left off in his work.

You blink at your desk, perplexed. Sitting next to your phone is a cup with a very familiar logo on it. You'd be sure you were seeing a mirage had Ellis not acknowledged its existence first. Bemused, you drop your purse into its place on your desk and pick up the coffee cup, feeling the liquid inside still warm. You crack the lid off and breathe in the comforting scent. It's the real deal!

Glancing around, you are perplexed, until that little giddy voice pipes merrily: Javier got us coffee, dopey!

The tide of gratified glee rises in you before you are able to quell it with your anger. Sitting in your desk chair, you glower, but mechanically bring the rim to your lips and drink the coffee. So fucking good…

Nope! Wait a minute. Javier Muthafucking Peña came down here and put a cup of your favorite coffee on your desk? Even after you've all but threatened to castrate him for even daring something like this? Oh, you are appalled…kind of. The more you drink the coffee, the more fond you become as the savory brew triggers your recall of yesterday.

You're stuck in a loop of reminiscence by the time you get home. The autopilot ingrained in you has you traversing the courtyard so you can pine over how ridiculously covert Javier must've been in delivering the coffee without being seen by a soul. Because he sure wasn't – you'd asked around to see if anyone noticed who'd left you the coffee – having evaded even the squad of building staff you could always count on for the scoop.

You almost jump when your neighbor calls out in greeting before you've reached the stairs. Smiling sheepishly, you return the hello and are about to keep going when she blithely mentions, "Ese hombre era guapísimo."

This is the tradeoff of living in a complex filled with mostly middle-aged retirees. They notice it all. There's no point even feigning ignorance, so you smile and wink at her. "Lo sé. Pero no se lo diga si lo ve otra vez," you snicker, earning an amused chuckle from the older woman as she waves goodbye and makes a note to indeed not mention to the tall stud just how handsome he is if he comes around again.

But would you see Javi again? It didn't come up…you didn't discuss it at all while you'd lain in bed together.

The ruminating keeps you occupied as you breeze into your apartment and close the door after you. You glance at your reflection in the oval mirror after you dump your purse and keys at the table beneath it, lips pressing together at the sight. Your ruse with your hair worked well enough, and thankfully the course of the day seems to have been enough time for the raised mark to dissipate substantially. You pull your hair up into a messy bun and go about tugging your blouse free and off your head before you've even made it down the hall to your bedroom.

The phone rings, and you groan as it forces you to turn on your heel back the way you came. You pick up the receiver from its mount and answer a little too wearily. "Hello?"

"Jeez, you sound grumpier than ever!" Ellis remarks, and you grumble while you wipe the makeup on your neck off gently with the pad of your thumb before pulling your long bangs free and combing through them idly as you listen. "You ran out of work before I could ask if you're sure you don't want to come over for dinner tonight? Anita is cooking her specialty—"

"I appreciate the invite, but I'm just a little off today," you retort and fidget with the zipper of your skirt, working it down with one hand as you add, "Rain check?"

"Sure thing. Feel better, kid! See yah tomorrow," the impossibly affable man from Tallahassee chimes. "Have a good night!"

You roll your eyes and smile. "Goodnight." Phone hung up, you toss your shed blouse and skirt into the hamper with the pile of clothes from last night before sauntering down the hall to your bedroom, kicking off your flats and grabbing the rumpled shirt from the floor. The room is tidy save for the bed. You go slide the laundry basket with your foot to the bed before going about putting another bag into the wastebasket, intrigued to find it empty. You're not even mad that Javi didn't make the bed, figuring he probably overslept and had to run out of here. Should you've woken him?

Distractedly, you're thinking of doing another load of laundry – deliberating whether you should yank the sheets off and toss them to the growing pile when you hear three loud knocks at your door. Grunting, you rush to grab something to throw on. "¡Un momento!" you shout down the hall as you pull the snug plain-t on and shimmy into a pair of jean shorts you pulled free from the clean load in the basket.

Sprinting down the hall, you toss the rumpled shirt into the hamper and make it to the door, opening it and expecting another well-meaning-yet-nosy neighbor.

Instead, a completely unabashed Javier Peña greets you on your doorstep. He looks fresh as a sexy daisy standing there – wearing a green button-up that's tucked into a trademark pair of jeans, a different jacket on from last night, but that ridiculously handsome smile is still the same. Your brain is on delay as you realize he's standing there with two large brown paper bags of what looks like groceries balanced in each arm.

Javier gives you an appreciative once over, admiring how snug the shirt is – how it molds deliciously to your tits and causes the lace of your bra to press up against the soft material – and how tight the shorts look, accentuating your hips and making your supple legs look fantastic.

"Eh…what," you attempt before recovering your cool façade to stare up at him inquisitively.

That being enough of a greeting for him, Javier breezes into your apartment and carries the bags to your kitchen island while you watch him go. "Just picked up a few things," he replies as if that is enough of an explanation. You close the door and pad over to gape at him. "I wasn't sure what kind of rum you drink, so I just picked one I've heard of," Javier offers as he begins to un-bag the groceries and pulls out the aforementioned bottle of Bacardi, along with a bottle of his favorite whiskey.

You stare at the two liquor bottles before crossing your arms and leaning your weight onto one hip. "Wait…you went shopping? Who said you could go shopping for me—?"

"Us, and I figured it was a one-man job and I didn't need a partner-in-crime. Christ knows I need a break from Murphy tagging along everywhere," Javi muses as he reaches into one of the bags and pulls out something before holding it out for you. "And thanks, I guess, for this."

You snatch your Guns 'N Roses shirt from him and grin. "It's the only thing I thought would fit you, smartass," you grumble sardonically and fight to sober your expression as you gripe, "And you're letting me pay you for all this stuff—"

Javier grunts and seamlessly stores a carton of juice, 6-pack and some other items into your fridge before he kicks it closed and leans his hip against the island's counter. "I fucking cleaned out your fridge last night, so you're gonna let me refill it and not get all bossy with me about it, sound good?" he mutters acerbically and arches a brow, crossing his arms in challenge. His coffee-brewed gaze betrays him, though, and you can't help ruefully purse your lips at that.

"Huh…alright, tough guy," you relent, albeit deviously as you shrug and toss the shirt onto the counter when you sidle up next to him and bump your hip into him as you reach into one of the bags. "What else did your presumptuous self pick up?" you chime, feeling Javi stiffen as you press the side of your hip into him and linger close.

He can smell your hair; feel the warmth of the side of your arm as it grazes his chest from your rummaging into the bag to pull out a pack of cigarettes, an ashtray, and several boxes of condoms. Flummoxed for a second, you surprise him by laughing – a melodious sound that melts into a discordant sigh he finds entrancingly sexy, shaking your head before placing everything on the counter like it's evidence against him.

"I see you picked up the essentials," you quip before pointedly slinking closer to pull over the other bag and rummage through it. It's got toiletries, and you blink at the sight before you notice a folded change of clothes – his clothes – at the bottom of the bag, below the personal hygiene items.

He's watching you, the intrigue winding in him, anticipating a reaction, but not sure what he'll get. You sense it, and feel a bit befuddled. Is this something to read into at all? Does he want you to? Javi doesn't strike you as the shy type, but neither does he strike you as monogamous. You are certainly single, but you're not a fool. Who knows how many women he's got – that he sees and sleeps with, casual or not. Is he provoking you to be the first to broach the subject? To press: What is this? What're we doing here?

You glance up at him as you set the bag aside before you turn to face him. The gleam in your eyes is one he can't read, and when you flick down to glance at his lips, he feels something primal sing in his blood. From this close, with you tilting your head in this way and with your hair pulled up, he finally catches the faint mark on your neck. His fingers are reaching up to brush it before he's checked the impulse. "Hmph, shit," he grumbles as he tenderly touches the side of your neck. "I'll be more careful," he mumbles and looks into your eyes as he worries the inside of his lower lip between his teeth.

You grab his hand before his fingers can recede and hold him in place as you defiantly smirk and pose, "As careful as you were leaving the coffee on my desk?"

He huffs his exhale and can't help want to challenge you – prod you on why that would be the end of the world; to be seen with him, but he's not a fool. You'd told him the first time you'd kissed, when he had you pressed up against the wall and on the edge of his fingers, and you'd rebuffed him.

Still, he wants to push, to rile you a bit, so he puts his hands on his hips as he looms back, eyeing you sharply before drawling tersely, "You don't give an inch, do you?"

Amused, you lean close, trailing your fingers up his chest to fiddle with a button below his collarbones as you declare simply: "I gave a lot of inches last night. Let you have all the inches you wanted…"

The way Javi's expression morphs from rueful terseness to raw enticement has heat tingling between your thighs, and you know he's turned on when you let him pull you against him so he can claim your lips with his.

Javier can't get over how hard you get him from just a glance and daring quip. It's something he knows he needs to work up a resistance to, because holy shit, he'll be in trouble if you can have this power over him otherwise.

You hum, deepening the kiss as Javi crowds you against the island and squeezes your ass covetously while you arch your pelvis into his and chase the ridge of his hard-on as it presses against denim. You get lost in it, not caring to discuss a definition of intent on what's going on between you. The heat of his body, his spiced and musky scent, and the feel of his want for you, has you preening for more of the sunburst-like passion he gives you so freely, proudly.

The kiss is only broken by the telltale sound of scratching coming from the balcony door, which causes Javier to reel back and glance around. You snicker and affectionately nudge him to step back while he asks, "What the hell is that?"

"Just a neighbor," you jibe and walk over to the balcony doors. Once you open one, an adorable black cat sits to stare up at you, meow of greeting accompanied by her rounding your legs. "Ah, mira quien es. Where'd you ride out the storm, señorita," you muse and pet her head before going back to the kitchen.

Javier is actually scowling as he watches the cat round the island and follow you into the kitchen. "You have a cat?" he asks, but there's a hint of charge in his tone, as if you've kept something from him.

"No, she's just the friendly neighborhood cat. She earns her keep around the complex, so everyone who lives here looks out for her; feeds her and lets her crash wherever she decides to lay up," you explain as you retrieve a can of tuna and empty it's contents into a dish you set aside out on the balcony for her. The green-eyed lady runs over and eats her fill while you follow with a water dish. "What, you got a problem with cats?" you inquire, hands on your hips as you turn and watch him half shrug before he takes his jacket off and tugs his hidden piece from the back of his waistband to place it out of the way on the counter.

He tosses the jacket to the back of a nearby chair before he lopes over and encircles his arms charmingly around your waist. "Dangerous business, being a cat in this country," he jokes, and you just give him a goofy look. "Never mind, it's from something that happened with Steve," he brushes off and nuzzles your temple while you grunt and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I'm starving—"

"What if I'd had plans tonight? Did you think I was, what – just perpetually available?" you suddenly pose, hands at his nape idly massaging a tender spot there and earning a grunt from him. He leans back and just gives you a smoldering look. "Javier—"

"Javi," he corrects and kisses your lips. "I just…hoped you were free," he remarks and pulls you over to sit on the couch. "If I've worn out my welcome—"

You interrupt him by huffing when he purposely sits you on his lap instead of next to him on the couch. Everything in you is simmering with the impulse to pepper him with questions, but you're not going to give into it. You want Javier Peña to work for the affection and pining that is clearly so freely thrown at him, for once. To earn the infatuation he's usually showered with from ramera and non-working-girl alike without conceding anything in return. At least that's what you tell yourself, making a host of assumptions. It's what you have to work with, after all, seeing how you refuse to fall into this trap.

"Until I get to the market so I can really food shop, we'll have to make do with a place that delivers," you reply instead, and reach to the side table where you store the takeout restaurant menus from around town. The maneuver presses Javi further into the back of the couch and forces you to slightly wriggle in his lap, which has him straining against your ass. "Chinese? It's the closest," you innocently muse and hold the menu up, but Javier's not interested in it.

"Is it…decent?" he asks distractedly, hand at your hip guiding you in his rutting undulations up into your jean-covered crotch.

You have to stifle a starved sound as he presses up right at the juncture of your shorts that is flush with your clit. "N-Not as good as New York or Puerto Rican Chinese food…but it's good," you simper softly, and are just about to let him pull you backwards into his arms so you both can get carried away in the grinding foreplay when the black cat suddenly leaps on the side table and jumps to walk along the spine of the couch. Javier recoils awkwardly and ends up jamming your tailbone hard against his pelvis, and he grunts a hiss. "No, pa'bajo," you chastise and point down to the floor, and the cat obeys, hopping down and waltzing out to the balcony before jumping up on the banister to perch and let the breeze lull her into a doze.

Javier is grumbling under his breath about meddling fuzz balls when you snicker and get up from his lap before he can pull you back down. "Querida—" he begins, but you have the menu in your hand and wave it at him. He huffs and flops back against the couch, dark eyes searing with promise as he watches you flounce to the phone. "I'll have whatever you get. I'm not picky," he sighs and is tempted to go for his cigarettes, but spots the boombox stereo tucked out of the way by the side table and decides to peruse your music cassette tastes.

You suppress the urge to blurt 'So I've heard,' as you dial the delivery number. Before long, they're at the door with your food, and just as you turn back from grabbing your wallet out of your purse, Javier is at the door paying the deliveryman and taking the food.

"You're a guest, Javier—" you start to reproach after you shut the door and follow him to the kitchen where he's unpacking the food.

"Why don't you call me Javi? I mean, outside of sex—" he begins goadingly, and trails off when you scoff and busy yourself getting cutlery and plates from the drawer and cabinet just behind him. "And don't give me that excuse again – about not being into using nicknames," he presses, but is affable as he turns and takes the plates from you so he can start filling them with food from the different containers.

You sigh dramatically, which he finds delightful and pivots to watch you set the table with the cutlery and glasses before you rush back and go to take the plates, but he holds them firm in his grip. You look up into his eyes and see he won't drop it until you answer, so you roll your eyes and waltz away as you gesture with your hands dismissively and grumble, "¡Eso es de nenas!" as if that explains it perfectly.

He chuckles and takes the plates to the table, setting them down before he hooks his hand in the back pocket of your shorts and reels you over to him as he sits in one of the chairs and pulls you onto his thigh. "Well, you're a girl, aren't you?" he teases, watching as your plush lips purse ruefully at him.

"De nenas as in little girls, atrevido," you counter and adjust to get comfortable on his thigh as he pillows your back with his arm. "I feel silly referring to you like that," you lie, boldfaced and practiced. "Javier is your name, so that's what I'll refer to you by, chavón," you muse as an aside, smirking when you huffs at the nickname; slang for pain or pesterer.

You hope Javi can't see it – that he doesn't have the training to spot when you're lying. After all, it's more of an untruth than anything. Your aversion to it is actually simple. You hate the thought that other women call him Javi, and can't bear to be part of the harem. It's not your fault that he can fuck you so good that you end up dissolving into whimpers of 'Javi-Javi-Javi!' when in the throes of passion.

Leaning back in his chair, his hand idly caresses your thigh as he exhales. "My mother called me Javier," he suddenly blurts thoughtfully, drawing you back to his pensive glance before he smiles.

His gaze is faraway though, so you cool, previous temper stowed so you can kiss him and drawl, "What every woman wants to hear – that they remind you of your mother."

He laughs, warm and indulgent as he lets you slink off his lap and sit in the adjacent chair. Dinner is spent chatting and when you have your fill, you both have a drink, content in the easygoing mood that's settled between you. You leave the dishes to soak in the sink and walk back to catch Javi begrudgingly petting the cat's head as he stands on the balcony and smokes. You grin when he turns and sees he got caught, and before you can gloat, he's striding over and encircling your waist with one arm while he puts the cigarette out in the ashtray he brought over.

"Can I have a solterita?" he murmurs, hand slipping into your back pocket to greedily squeeze your ass as he nuzzles your neck – careful not to leave any marks this time.

He's causing your resolve to fizzle, distracting you with his scent and warmth as he presses his hips against yours. "T-There's some in the cabinet—" you begin when it dawns on you that he was not referring to the cookie when he slips a hand up your shirt and touches your breast over your bra. "Hah, beyako," you giggle and slap his hand down, flirty smile brilliant as you slink away and close the balcony doors. "This solterita is not as sweet, though," you quip, lopsided smirk endearing as you walk back and purposely saunter past him to head down the hallway to your room.

Javi is following and herding you up against the wall in the hall before you can feign demureness. You knew what you were doing. He sees it in your eyes when they flicker up at him before you pull him close and meet his hungry kiss. His mouth is smoky and tart, and you hum into it when your tongues duel for dominance. He wins out when he seats his hand between your thighs and cups your crotch to rub you into a tizzy over your clothes. You gasp and part from the kiss, arching against the wall and gripping the back of his shirt as he nuzzles your neck.

"I've been thinking about how good you taste all day," he murmurs in a husk before dragging his other hand from your ass around to start working with the other to pull your shorts open. "Been wanting it. So warm and sweet for me," he mumbles hotly as he yanks your shorts and panties down your thighs before he lowers to kneel at your feet.

Your gasp of excitement hiccups in your chest when Javier tugs the tangle of clothes from your ankles so you can spread your legs to him. Naked from the waist down, you're trembling and meek now, flustered as you press up against the wall while he's fully clothed and on his knees with a view of how wet and eager you are for him after just teasing kisses. "Javier—" you begin, but exhale a thrilling sound when he grips your thighs and holds you in place as he nuzzles you between them.

He kisses your mound before nudging an open mouth caress over your pussy and moans against you when you bury a hand in his hair and tug. Javier buckles to his shins so he can slot his mouth perfectly at your cunt, lips pressing a kiss over the hood of your clit before he traces your seam with his tongue in a languid lick. His wickedly talented flicks have you whimpering in delight to the point that you press the back of a hand to your mouth to stifle your sounds while you let him guide your pelvis to glide you over his tongue. Vibrating his groan against your drenching flesh, Javi glances up at you and sees you're flushed and smothering your whimpers, so he squeezes your hip and presses a lewd kiss to your mound. "I wanna hear you, hermosa," he grouses, tone syrupy until he gravels, "I wanna hear you when you come on my tongue."

You're practically buzzing from that, and your next whimper is unimpeded as you get on your tippy toes and present your tingling pussy to him. "Please, Javi—" you keen, tone reedy, incandescent.

He's gratified to see you so needy for him, gets punch-drunk from it and hooks a leg over his shoulder so he can gluttonously devour you now, warm swipe of his tongue parting your soaked folds so it can flick against your tight slit before he plunges up to fuck you with it. The sound you make has Javi's cock throbbing, and he can feel it dripping with pre-cum already as it presses against the denim. The friction of it has him hissing, but he denies himself until he's drunk from your chalice and undone you with his devotion.

The hand in his hair tightens when you feel yourself careening up towards a blistering orgasm, hips jerking from the effort of not letting yourself buck against his mouth. You can't hold back though, not when he draws his tongue in a pattern of pressure and flicks at your pulsing clitoris, humming against the pearled bud and driving your mewling cries into a fever pitch as you chase his mouth with your cradling pelvis, so close to the edge. "Javi—mmmph! I'm g-gonna—" you begin to keen, eyes squeezing shut as you pant heatedly, quivering in his grip.

Javi answers you by plunging his tongue into your fluttering cunt and twirling it in such a way that you feel pleasure punch up into you and wring the breath out of your already shuddering lungs. You cry out a heady sound as you climax, trembling in Javier's powerful grasp as he literally holds you up from crumbling apart against the wall. Static fills your head from your toe-curling orgasm as you heave shaky panting breaths, and dully hear Javier hum against you.

His mouth works you through the aftershocks until you're flinching from hypersensitivity. Your t-shirt is damp with sweat from being pressed flush against the cement wall and at his mercy, and you groan a shallow sigh at the sensation of Javi exhaling a breath against your pussy as he laps your dewy climax up with a satisfied rumble.

Javier smirks against your hip as he sits up on his knees and watches you regain your bearings above him. He is getting off on the sight of you – drunk on your scent and taste, proud of your flushed and gleaming pussy slickened by the comingling of your clear-honeyed climax and his saliva. He licks his lips and wipes his chin with the back of his wrist before chuckling hoarsely.

"Eres tan rica, preciosa," he murmurs thickly as he kisses your womb and starts tracking his mouth up your torso as he stands. "I could do this for hours, if you let me—" he begins to praise before you pull him by the back of his hair to meet your starved kiss.

He grunts, cock jumping in approval as he ruts against you while your heavenly mouth devours his, greedily chasing his tongue and tasting the remnants of his ruinous havoc. You want him – are content to let him have you up against the wall, and he reads your thoughts as you start yanking his belt loose and fumbling to get his jeans open. Javi breaks the kiss and takes your wrists in his grip to press them up against the wall on either side of your head. "Javi, I want you inside me, now," you order, but the pitch of your tone is luscious, serenely magnetic as you arch against him and bite your bottom lip as you blush.

"Fuck," he huffs as his cock throbs and his loins burn, but he reins his primal urge back whilst he presses his forehead against yours and huffs. "…I gotta get a condom," he grumbles as you whine and wring your wrists in his grip. "No seas mala and listen to me," he mutters firmly, but his smoldering eyes are warm and doting as you stare up into them and arch your brows. He can see how your pupils are blown out with lust, so he suppresses a shiver of enticement and presses, "You're gonna be a good girl and keep your hands to yourself so I can go get it."

You vacantly nod; batting your lashes at him and letting your lips soften as you go loose in his grip, humming your agreement. Satisfied, Javier lets you go and goes to step back, when you grin and grab at his jeans to tug him close so you can rub your hand along the length of his erection that's tenting down his thigh. The way Javier jolts and braces his hands against the wall on either side of your shoulders is a victory to a battle you're nowhere near winning, but you relish it regardless as he groans, breath scalding as he nuzzles the crook of your neck and swears. You're too gleeful, so Javi has to put you in your place, to your perverse delight.

You do not expect the way he chooses to do so, however.

Wringing your hand away and pressing it up against the wall while he pries the other from his waistband, he looms over you and struggles to keep from looking wrecked from your mischief as he growls, "That—that was very bad. For being such an atrevida," he grips his hand on a firm and round ass cheek before squeezing it possessively, continuing in a grouse, "You're gonna go to your room and get naked and wait."

The lewd thrill you get from his command is insanely potent, leaving you quivering with giddy longing for what his burning gaze is promising if you comply, but you hesitate. "And if I don't?" you challenge in a lilting whisper, impish smile quirking your plush lips as you narrow your gaze provocatively up at him.

Javier is absolutely floored by your audacity, and realizes he really didn't have any recourse for noncompliance. His hand is still on your ass cheek, so he kneads it, admiring how the supple curve is juicy enough to fit in his large hand, plus some. He caresses it as he possessively tilts your face up by your chin and dramatically huffs his admonishment before grumbling, "Malcriada…if you don't, then I can't give you my cock like you want me to." He was tempted to add he wouldn't get to punish your sexy little ass the way he wanted to, but figured that might get impudence from you.

Now your turn to be titillated, you drag your teeth along your bottom lip before pursing your plush flesh in defeat and grunting haughtily. He kisses you as he steers you to be pointed towards your bedroom before he gives you a cheeky tap on the ass. You squeak, shooting him a sultry glance as you hurriedly saunter to your room. He is striding briskly to the kitchen once you're not in eye line, tearing open one of the boxes and taking the roll of condoms in hand and marching down to the bedroom.

You're just tossing your bra aside when he comes in and lingers in the doorway, watching you deliberate over whether you should change the sheets before hopping in when he mumbles your name. Swiveling to face him, you're in your nude glory and blinking at him, suddenly unsure of what to do. "Take your hair down," he orders, and you press your thighs together – which are still slick from your previous session, and do as your told, loosening the tie and tossing it aside as you shake your hair free to bounce and undulate down your back and across your shoulders. You can see the lust in Javi's expression, eye darkening with something lurid he's thinking of when he walks over and grunts contemplatively down at you. "Get on your hands and knees on the bed," he husks, expression chiseled, the set of his jaw serious as you stare up at him.

Your core is pulsing with anticipation as you do as you're told, face burning whilst you get in the pose and hear him start taking his clothes off. Sound of his boots getting kicked off, shirt ruffling as he unbuttons and shrugs out of it, belt tugged from the loops of the jeans and thwacking to the floor followed by the sound of his zipper being worked down – it all has you trembling with excitement, so you peek over your shoulder just as Javi's knees are sinking down onto the mattress and he's ripping off a condom from the roll before tearing the wrapper open. Roll tossed aside on the bed, you're feeling lascivious as you think: Those are all getting used—

Javier is rolling the condom on and staring at your tight cunt, already slick and getting wetter for him, enjoying how your breathing is getting airy with your excitement. "Such a pretty little pussy," he praises as he finally brushes up against you from behind and lets the press of his cock glide through your folds. "You ever touch yourself while thinking of me?" he rumbles as he mounts you and slots his fingers to rub your pussy while he teases you with his shaft grinding through your dewy petals. You're gasping and mewling as you rut against him and sink down onto your elbows while you try and scrape your thoughts together. "I've jerked off to you a few times—"

"R-really?" you hitch and shiver when he nuzzles you and mouths the side of your neck.

He hums in affirmation as he presses exquisite pressure against your clit and feels you light up. "Jerked off in the shower this morning thinking of you," he admits, tone like velvet over steel. "Ever touch yourself and wish it was me?" Javi asks as he grips your hip and guides your pelvis into alignment so he can start pressing his now-lubricated cock into your cunt from behind.

"Yes!" you hitch out, gasping as he starts jabbing his hips in shallow thrusts to push into your tight, clenching heat. "Mmm, yes," your tone thickens as you try to relax so he can shove more of his exquisite cock into you. "I came so hard thinking of your fingers being inside me, of your cock filling me—"

"Oh fuck," Javi grits out and shoves into your rippling sheath hard from that admittance, tearing a whimper of approval from you as you roll your hips back against him. "That's fucking hot—mmph," he groans against your ear as he starts fucking into you, hands gripping your shoulder and waist. His strong fingers dimple your skin as he pounds into you and tears delicious sounds and cries from you. "Fuck, querida—feel so good!" he stutters out between thrusts as he feels your silken cunt fluttering already.

"Oh god—nngth-ahh! Ja-Javi, I'm—mmm, I'm close—!" you whimper, bowing your head against the bed and feeling your blush of embarrassment burn your face. The building pressure of your climax is just too searing, and he's had you so wound up that the orgasm is almost there—

Javier suddenly pulls out and you cry out in shock, writhing from your pussy clamping down on nothing when it was just being stretched to the max by his ramrod dick. Before you can be propelled into stunned upset, Javi is pushing the heel of his hand to nudge you down on the bed onto your chest, forcing your thighs to butterfly from your knees being spread apart. When he slams his cock back into your pussy, you wring your hands into the sheets and arch, feeling stretched and precariously pinned to the bed by his weight as he presses down over you and starts to pound your cunt.

The sound of his apex slapping into your ass as he slams into that devastatingly pressure point within you is perversely gratifying, making your pussy flood with excitement as you whimper incandescently, "Ahh! Right there! Oh god-oh god, Ja-Javi—!"

That's all he needs to hear, and is thrusting with abandon into you, chasing that wrecking sensation of completion he feels when you both come at the same time. He's there, so close, and the way you squirm for it, like the sensation of fire is licking up your flesh, tips him over the edge. "Fuck—oh fuck—!" he growls between tight jaw, propping himself up with his fisted hands pressed into the mattress as he barrels into you desperately, his groans hoarse as he slams into you and holds there just as you go taut under him and your inner walls clutch around him, milking his cock greedily for his climax.

You both reach bliss together and are awash with ecstasy as sensation wrings through you. He groans your name and shakily exhales while you're pulsing with the fierceness of your orgasm. Javi is shuddering on top of you with the effort of not collapsing in a heap over you, and it takes him a few seconds to finally hear your murmurs of his name, which reels him back into himself so he can rest his head against yours and nudge you affectionately. "Cariño, you ok?" he mumbles against your mussed hair before nuzzling you tenderly.

You hum pithily, and melt under him. "I'm perfect," you sigh wistfully, dreamy smile pressing into the side of his forearm when you kiss him there. Javi has to stop himself from wrapping his arms around you and squeezing from the longing feeling that coils in his chest, which would require him to press all his weight onto you.

Instead, he eases out of your silken heat and is careful not to let any fluids spill as he takes care of the condom and cleans off quickly so he can pull you into his arms and settle you on his chest after he lies back in bed with you. You are fucked out beautifully, and he caresses you soothingly as you come down from the nerve searing high of being dominated by him.

He could really use a cigarette, but he left them on the counter, and he is in no rush to get up right now. Not with you slinking your leg over his hips and nuzzling fond kisses along his jaw. "You?"

He blinks lazily down at you, deciphering the question. "I could use a cigarette," he admits, and you snicker, kissing his chest and going to roll away, when he holds you in place against him with the arm around your waist. "It can wait," he elaborates and cuddles you close, pressing his nose into the top of your hair and inhaling your sweet, heady perfume.

"…The sheets were dirty," you offer vacantly, still a bit dreamy from having all sensation seared into you by the weight of him and the fill of his cock before it was fizzled out of you after being shaken apart by such a fantastic orgasm.

He snorts and kisses the top of your head. "Not like we were doing anything pristine on them anyway," he jibes, tone honeyed with humor and affection.

You both remain like that for a bit until other urges compel you both out of bed. Coming back from the bathroom, you expect him to be sipping his whiskey from a glass between puffs of a cigarette, but instead find both vices set aside on the nightstand and him sitting at the edge of the bed with the sheet over his lap.

He's dutifully sorting through your laundry from the basket and already has a few garments folded in stacks next to him, and you're startled by the oddly endearing domesticity of having a naked Adonis, albeit a very naughty descarado, neatly rolling a pair of socks into each other.

"I think you missed your calling, agente," you tease as you crawl into bed to sit next to him, gaze flirty and amused.

"I'm just keeping myself busy. These look great, by the way," he holds up a pair of lacy panties. "Wear these for me next time," he prompts and smirks when you yank the skimpy garment out of his grasp and raise a sarcastic brow at him. "Or maybe don't wear anything at all…"

"Unlike some, I can't pull off going commando," you joke and kiss his shoulder. "It'd give me too much anxiety—"

"Does anyone hassle you…at work, I mean? Because if that's why…" Javi poses and eyes you, his implication hanging in the air as you snicker and playfully shove him. "I'm serious. You'd tell me…if anyone was out of line with you?"

You sober at his tone and the flinty, intense look in his eyes. Where is this coming from?

"Javi, I'm not going to walk around with no panties on under my work skirt," you barb wryly. He softens, gloating look obvious from you slipping and using his nickname without being in the throes of carnal delight. "You're just a fresco hoping for an up-skirt fantasy," you poke him in the chest and watch his lips quirk deviously at the thought. "I can handle myself. No one's ever messed with me at work or otherwise," you lie, and are sure your smooth delivery was successful as you collect the laundry he's folded and place it in the basket before nudging him to come lounge in bed instead.

He follows, but surprises you by leaning back against you and forcing you to cuddle him as he lounges like you're the most comfortable pillow in the world. You scoff and drape your arms over his shoulders to caress his chest, bare breasts molding against his back; splaying your legs in a V to accommodate his broad, tall frame. He reaches for his lit cigarette in the ashtray while you settle into the propped pillows at your back. You're about to get lost in nuzzling his hair and tracing his muscles while he lazily finishes his cigarette when he exhales a long breath and causes smoke to twine like billowy tendrils and twirl about in the early evening air.

"If that's true, then why do you have a gun?"

You tense, hands stilling in their tactile mapping while your brows furrow in suspicion. The impulse to lie is there, but you shove it away. "I'm a single woman living alone in Bogotá," you answer, neutrally. "Anything else you'd like to interrogate me over, Agente Peña?"

Javier finishes his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray before reaching for his whiskey. He sits up and drains it in a gulp, giving you the chance to watch his back ripple with his movements as he tries to ease the tension between his shoulder blades; to feign he's unruffled. But the way his broad shoulders square, you know he's anything but. Once he's put the empty glass aside, he's pivoting to turn and stare at you with those stern eyes, which are flashing chestnut now from the angle of his scowl and how the light from the lamp catches in his irises. He pinches his bottom lip between thumb and forefinger, then smoothens his moustache out in thought. Deliberating, terse in his rumination.

"Yes. Just a few things, señorita," he mutters, finally, eyes flinty as he adjusts to sidle next to you and stare at you sharply. "Why do you lie to me, for one? I'm trained to spot it, you know—"

"You'll have to teach me how to be better at it, then," you deflect, pressing your knees together and drawing them up to pull the sheet in reach so you can cover up.

He huffs at that, draping his arm across his bent knee and giving you a piercing glance. "C'mon, cariño. You can level with me," he cajoles firmly, leaning his shoulder into yours. You absently comb a hand through your hair and pull it to the side, over the opposite shoulder. Javi watches you, and wants to kiss the column of your throat, pull you close and declare tons of things he has no right to say – to promise. So, instead, he adds, "Give me something here?"

"As if I haven't given you plenty already?" you counter snidely, a bit miffed now. His expression is earnest, lips pressing together as he watches the flash of anger cool in your gaze before you sigh and adjust to lean your head on his shoulder. "Why were you snooping in there anyway?" you shoot, delicate brow arched in judgment. He shrugs and gives you this mischievous look, and you flush, remembering the empty bowl in the drawer and answering, "Hence the condoms. Never mind," snickering before changing the subject as you settle down again. "Why don't you ask me what you really want to?" you press and glance sidelong at his jaw.

You watch his Adam's apple bob as he deliberates on that, then shrugs. "Do you know how to use it?"

Perplexed, you glance up at him. You'd not expected that. "Yes, but I've not had to use it," you reply haltingly. "It's only for protection if someone was to break in, promise. I don't carry it with me," you elaborate and are gratified to see some of the tension ease from his shoulders. "Nothing's happened here. There was an…incident back home years ago, and when I took the job at the embassy, my father gave me the gun for protection," you muse and relax against him when he wraps his arm around you and herds you close.

Javi grunts and kisses your temple. "You would tell me if anything happens? Especially anything dangerous," he murmurs in a tone you can't decipher.

"…I don't need your protection, Javi," you reply and feel him exhale, getting wound up by your aloof answer. "And that isn't what you wanted to ask," you mutter and adjust so you can look at him.

Javier rolls his eyes for the first time since you've met, and it has an appeal; seeing him becoming vexed. "You are so fucking stubborn, it's kind of amazing," he counters before circling your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You yelp and squeeze his shoulders as he kisses you. It astounds you to feel his hard-on jutting up between your thighs, considering the tenor of the conversation. "Fine. I wanted to ask if I could see you…if you'd be open to getting to know each other?" he poses against your lips after he breaks the kiss, hands clutching at your curves while you gaze into his gleaming brewed depths.

You did not expect him to ask that either. However, you smile and wryly quip, "So what've we been doing up to now? Just curious what you'd call this if it isn't us seeing and getting to know each other."

Well, he hadn't really thought about it that way, so he admits, "Flirting? Trying to vie for you to give me the fucking time of day? Amazing sex?"

You laugh, soft and melodious before it trails off in a sigh and you find yourself nodding. "Alright. Yeah…I'd like that," you relent and let him pull you into a not-so-chaste kiss. Javier Peña has worn you down this far, so what's the point of not giving in a little more.

The roll of condoms is one less after you both get carried away again into a hearty session of coupling as night has finally descended. The pining glee that earths deep in your core for him is disorienting, and you wallow contentedly in it as you lay in post-coital repose next to him while he spoons you and brushes his lips along your shoulder and whispers questions that you answer without any pretense. No topic is off limits, and you find that he's willing to be just as open to your own questions.

He tells you about Laredo, how he'd ended up in the DEA, and how day in and day out, his work is an exercise in futility, but he thrives on the challenge, in being resourceful. You absorb all that, softened by his candor, and you divulge to him – tell him about your 5-year plan, that you're half Colombian and have family in Medellín, broaching even the topic you've been avoiding initiating.

Javier listens and catalogues it all, wanting to pepper you with invasive questions he can sense are precarious topics to push you on, but instead goes back to that topic he'd been intrigued to see if you'd initiate. After all, even his informants – the working girls – would ask him 'Am I the only one?' or 'Is there anyone else besides me?' and he would obfuscate. You've had yet to mention it, even when he thought you were about to earlier. So, he finally asks:

"What rumors have you heard about me?"

Your smile is zany, surprised and tickled that he wants to know such a thing. "What do you think the rumors are?" you turn it around on him, curious.

"That I'm an asshole that cuts corners," he mutters unflinchingly, fingers drawing circles along the curve of your hip while the forearm braced around your collarbones cheekily squeezes you. "And that I sleep with my informants."

You hum, confirming, "Yes to the former and latter." You don't ask if they're true. Instead, you murmur, "Rameras being on the take is the big one."

He grunts. Part of him is curious, but he doesn't ask if it bothers you. Instead, he corrects, "Working girls."

It takes everything in your snarky being not to snort at that. Of course he'd have some amendment – some justification. You're going into a dangerous territory where you don't think you will be able to remain neutral. It's not about judgment. But you would be foolish to think that you wouldn't be jealous or bothered by the thought of him being with another woman after this – while you're both engaging in whatever the hell this is.

"Just…do me a favor and give me the courtesy of a heads up."

Javier thinks he heard you wrong, or is completely misunderstanding your meaning. You turn in his embrace and gaze openly at him when he doesn't immediately respond. He looks stumped, and you raise a surprised eyebrow before trailing your hand up to caress your fingertips along his forehead, brushing the hair flopped there affectionately. He closes his eyes and relaxes while you trace along the angles of his face, down the chiseled ridge of his nose, across his moustache and flush against his lips.

"Querida," he exhales and kisses your fingertips before pulling you close and nuzzling your cheekbone, kissing along it and into the skewed strands of your hair— grazing the shell of your ear. "You're too good for me…" he mumbles, adjusting his arms to encircle you and let you wrap your arms around his torso.

You hug him and feel him melt into you as he presses his nose to your hair and inhale your soothing scent. It all makes for a powerful feeling you get addicted to. Just as you think he's going to start dozing with you in his arms, Javier grunts a musing sound.

"Okay, one more question," he poses in a murmur and tucks your head under his chin. When you hum for him to continue, he asks, "Why're there so many old people around here? Did the embassy place you in a retirement home for ansianos?"

You can't help laugh, snickering as you shake your head irreverently. "No, chavón. This is my grandparent's apartment, and yes – most of the tenants are mature folks," you reply and kiss his throat. "They retired and moved back to Medellín. It's fully furnished so it's a great long-term rental, and I'd rather stay here than where they set you gringos up in," you tease and yelp when he squeezes his arms around you puckishly.

"So I don't have to worry about any of your neighbors coming over to romance you," he chuckles and you nudge the side of his jaw with your temple and scoff.

"Nope, but I do have to deal with the occasional prying comments," you volunteer before wryly murmuring, "You had better watch out for my neighbors who think you're so guapo."

He chuckles and nuzzles your hairline. "New meaning to chinga tu madre," he drawls and you pinch his side humorously, earning an amused grunt from him and his mirth to cool his soulful, smoldering gaze as he captures your lips in a indulgent kiss.

The next morning, you both wake up from the alarm blaring that you mechanically turn off. Before you can crawl out of bed, though, Javi pulls you back and within minutes, he's fucking you on your side, spooning you possessively as he pounds into your pussy from behind.

You're so sore when you're under the shower spray, but you don't care. Not when Javi is pressed up behind you, soaping up your back before he massages his doting touch all over your body. It's a miracle he doesn't fuck you up against the tiles, and you see his musing smirk as you turn and kiss his throat while you affectionately scrub your hands down his back. It's like he's trying to prove that he does indeed have some control over his impulses, even though he does think about fucking you while watching you dry your hair in the reflection of the medicine cabinet mirror as he shaves.

You're both dressed and have enough time to get in before the rush hour peak, so Javi takes you to the coffee shop. Don Gilberto is jovial at seeing you after you'd not come in the previous morning and he shakes Javi's hand in greeting before serving up the coffees and the two pandebonos.

There's no denying it. You feel comfortable with Javi, and from the way he takes your hand as you walk across the street to his jeep, you're a relief for him – something he's hanging onto and isn't in a rush to define, but that he's certain he doesn't want to lose.

When he thinks about it as he drives, he keeps coming up with one four-letter word that describes it, how he feels.

Home. Since he's been in Colombia, he's not felt anything calming or reassuring. It's magnetic and comforting that he feels so at ease with you. That he can let his guard down with you.

He glances at you now in the passenger seat as he drives, the hand resting on your thigh giving you an affectionate squeeze. "You sure? It's early enough that no one's gonna be in the garage—"

"This is just as much for your professional convenience as mine, you know," you counter mockingly, but smile as you glance fondly over at him. "I'm sure you don't want to get grabbed by the collar for dipping your pen in the embassy ink—"

"I don't give a fuck," he cuts in, terse as he pulls onto the avenue you mentioned getting dropped off to so you can walk to the embassy gates without risking anyone seeing you together. "If they wanted to get rid of me, they would've by now. The ambassador doesn't like me, but she can't do shit," he mutters and pulls into a spot by the curb and puts the gear in park. He stretches his arm across the back of your seat and shifts to stare at you. His expression is no-nonsense as he gives you a look, sizing you up. "Alright, fine, I want to know. Is it just because of the gossip?" he interrogates. "Because I'm not that much of an asshole to not get that—"

You balk and swivel your indignant stare at him. "So you might not get this because I'm not one of your working girls, but I have gone out of my way to not open myself up to any kind of sweeping assessments about my competency in doing my job or knowing what I'm talking about," you answer with the finesse of a battering ram to the chest. "I would be opening myself up to ridicule – to being completely dismissed as someone who fucks around at work. Even if you were the goddamned copy guy on the second floor, I would not be advertising that we're dating, Javi, so if you're trying to take this personal? Don't," you snap, blazing gaze blistering now that you see him grinning at you – damned dimple appearing to tease you – and trying to suppress his grin by thumbing his moustache and easing his lips into a sober smile, but failing. And then you realize it:

You totally tipped your hand and made it obvious that you are bothered by the thought of him and his working girls – that you're not his only solterita. You also just said you're dating, which, what? Are you?!

He sees the fury bubble up to wind your shoulders and flash in your eyes. "Querida—" he begins and caresses your shoulder, tone appeasing as you grab your purse and undo your seatbelt.

You shrug his hand away as you feel yourself on the brink of going off on him. "This is funny to you!" you accuse, tone dipped in a disarmingly calm hiss.

"It's not," he cuts in and holds his hands up as if he's trying to calm a caged tiger from biting his head off. "I wasn't laughing. It's just," he stops to choose his words carefully when you simmer, glaring at him like the next thing he says could lead to him being mauled to death. "You look so fucking good when you're mad," he states, and when you tense and stare dubiously at him, he adds in a murmur, "Give me your hand."

You're tempted to slap him as a response, but you suspiciously extend your hand to him, curious. Javier takes it and pulls it over, guiding you to cup his crotch and feel how rock-hard he is through his jeans from your testy rebuking. "Javi—!"

"No one else turns me on like this – by fucking yelling at me, except you, malcriada," he huffs, tone honey poured over gravel as he grouses, "I'm gonna be hard all fucking day now, thinking of you, so do me a favor and wear something sexy tonight, because when I come over, your sassy ass is mine."

You are so frustrated that you can't unzip his fly and jerk him off right here and now after he tells you that, and it takes all of your stubborn willpower to not melt in the passenger seat when Javier leans over and kisses your lips. It feels too fleeting – too chaste for what you need right now, but you realize you have to focus on getting out of the car and walking to the embassy with your panties already wet and nipples studding against your bra.

Javi watches you go and struggles to ease the pressure in his crotch before he drives to the embassy and goes through the security gate. You're in the elevator by the time he's sitting at his desk and daydreaming about you sitting on top of it, with your legs spread open to show him how wet you are for him.

"Earth to Peña. You listening?" Steve cuts into his daze when he drops a bunch of forms at his desk. He's now only half listening and nods, forcing himself to listen to his partner when he gets to the important stuff, the latest from surveillance so he can relay it to Carrillo later.

By the time he's at your door at the end of the day, he's anxious for it and internally swearing at himself. Where is this going? He doesn't know, but fuck if he wants to mess it up by putting a bunch of logic in, or by verbalizing expectations.

When you open the door, Javi has to rein in the impulse to sweep you into his arms and carry you to bed. You're wearing a flirty blue dress, spaghetti straps accentuating your lovely, sloping shoulders, and he can smell the delicious aroma of a home-cooked meal coming from the kitchen as you pull him in and close the door behind him. You notice the small duffle at his side, and smile to yourself, wondering when he made time to go home and pack it.

"I went food shopping," you declare and get on your tippy toes to peck him on the lips before you flounce back to the stove. He doesn't know why your bare feet are so cute to him as you scamper off, but then again he's fixating on every plane of skin you have bare for him. You hear him shed his jacket, store his gun on the side table, then his boots trekking across the apartment, the drop of the duffle in the hall and his steps getting closer. "I hope you like arroz con pollo and tostones—"

He's crowding you from behind and kissing your bare shoulder. "You listened," he purrs before he nuzzles his mouth against your neck and suckles on the delicate spot under the curve of your jaw. "Good girl."

You are tingling with excitement, but enjoy the foreplay of teasing him until he bristles and acts on impulse. "Can you make me a drink? Just need to keep stirring this so it doesn't burn or stick," you muse in an airy pitch when he cheekily caresses the edge of his thumb along the cup of your breast and feels that indeed, there is no bra underneath.

He huffs his grunt and haltingly goes to do as you ask, and you smirk to yourself. He likes to wind you up and get you irate so he can get off on the effect he has on you? Well, you like to rile him up until he's surly with his arousal and push more to see him grapple with his baser desires. The dark, heated look that fogs his coffee-brewed eyes – the set of his brow and the press of his lips when he gets really riled are all prizes you relish earning, coveting the glory of having an effect on him.

Javier is ravenous, has been thinking about you all damned day, to the point that as soon as he got to his place to pack a bag before coming over, he jerked off to take the edge off. It helped him think straight, but now? All he can think about is what you're wearing under the dress. He's betting on it being the lacy panties he plucked from your laundry basket yesterday, eager to caress and find out how they feel cinched around your fantastic ass.

When you taste from the wooden spoon and nod in approval, he watches you turn the stove off and set the pot onto a cool burner so it doesn't keep cooking. Your smile is teasing as you sip the drink he hands you, eyes twinkling at him – watching him finish his whiskey and pour himself another.

"You seem wound up," you lilt as you set the glass on the counter under the cabinet you open to retrieve dishware.

He grunts, grumbling, "I have to go to Medellín in the morning. Might be gone a couple of days…"

"Ah," you muse and are standing on your tippy toes, reaching for a specific bowl. Javi watches as your dress slinks and rides up. He gulps his whiskey and stares, entranced by what he doesn't see.

When you settle back to the soles of your feet and place the bowl aside next to the stove, he's spinning you around and pulling you against him, causing you to hiccup a sound of surprise as he paws his hands down in a possessive grope of your form before settling his hands over your derrière to drag underneath the dress's skirt. Instead of lace, he touches bare skin, confirming his aching suspicion. You feel his muscles tense, floored, as he stares heatedly down at you while he kneads his hands over your ass. You cannot help goad him.

"To your liking, agente?"

That did it. Javi spins you around and presses you to bend over the island counter as he rushes to unfasten his belt and jeans with one hand while the other drags down your back and bunches the material of the dress up so your lower half is exposed to his greedy gaze as he swears at how delectable you look – already flushed and wet for him.

"Fucking atrevida," he husks and slides his hand down your ass to curl between your thighs and rub your pussy. You gasp and writhe in delight, hands gripping for purchase on the counter when he groans impatiently behind you and parts your soaked folds to press two fingers in. "Always fucking teasing me," he huffs, surly as he suddenly tugs a spaghetti strap off your shoulder so he can press his mouth there and crowd you from behind while he works his fingers in and out of you from behind, leaving you precariously balanced between the counter top and the fingers he plunges into you.

"Ah—!" you whimper as Javi pumps his fingers in you a few times and pulls out of your clenching heat before he forces you to spin around to shove your lower back into the counter so he can suck his fingers clean of you, shoving his knee between your thighs to pin you in place. "Babe—" you babble as he yanks the straps down your arms and forces the bust of the dress to roll down and expose your breasts.

"Mmm, I like that," he rumbles as he fondles your tits, thumbs flicking at your taut nipples before he bows his head and licks a lascivious swipe across one, growling, "Say it again," before he repeats the lewd treatment onto the other nipple.

You're writhing against his knee, gasping as you clutch at the sides of his shirt and stutter whimpers before managing a quaking, "Babe. W-want you—"

When he hoists you effortlessly onto the countertop and settles between your thighs, you think he's going to fuck you right there on the kitchen island, dress bunched around your midriff and hair cascading over the edge, but instead you feel him plant a wet kiss to the top of your thigh.

You squirm and cry out in surprise when his tongue drags wetly from perineum to the top of your mound before he presses his mouth against your clit. Legs flinching, they jerk as you buckle and pant your mewls, overawed with how titillating his ferocity to devour you is – at how raunchy it all is, and already feeling on the edge.

Javi can't take it anymore. He's desperate and can't wait, so he pulls back from your fluttering and wet cunt to free his cock from his jeans and work the condom he doesn't even remember pulling from his pocket or tearing open onto his throbbing manhood. You can see it's flushed and pulsing to be inside you as he secures the prophylactic at the base before he suddenly yanks you to the edge of the counter so he can line himself against your hot center, notching at the dimple of your entrance.

Instead of pushing in little by little, Javier slams his cock into you and grips you in his arms when you arch against the counter top and hook your legs around his waist. "Ja-Javi, nngth—fuck," you gasp tensely as he slams again into you, giving your tight sheath no time to prepare for the stretch of him. You pant sharply and dig your fingertips into his bicep when he pulls you close. "Too much—too big," you hitch in a reedy whimper, biting your bottom lip from the burn of your floor muscles straining, thighs tensing up.

That reins Javier in and he stills, giving you a chance to catch your breath and relax as your muscles acclimate. He swears to himself and kisses your breasts in unspoken apology, groans when you massage your fingers into his scalp and down his nape, soothing the tension at the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to hurt—" he begins to mumble, but you shush him.

Kissing his forehead reassuringly, you snicker. "None of that. I just wasn't ready," you whisper and giggle – smiling when he huffs wryly and nuzzles you, claiming your lips with his.

You wrap your legs around his waist when he decides to carry you from the kitchen to your bed, snickering when he snorts at the sight of new sheets before he's sinking down onto the mattress. He lets you roll him onto his back so you can straddle him and ride his cock. You hurriedly yank off your dress and toss it, now completely naked and rolling your hips over him while he watches the way your breasts bounce as you fuck yourself onto him and whimper his name.

Javier decides then and there that there's nothing better than the sight of you crying out and coming undone above him. The way your eyes clench shut, lashes dark against your flushed cheeks and plush lips parted in an airy exhale of content pleasure before grinding yourself down to nestle his cock deep inside you while your hands grip his chest. It's all intense – divine, and he feels unworthy, but favored by your resplendent grace.

When you've recovered from the orgasm, you tug at the buttons of his shirt so you can yank it open and press your torso to his in order to nuzzle loving kisses to his throat. "I want you to come inside me, babe," you purr against his neck and feel Javi shudder and his muscles flex. "I thought about you fucking me all day—"

"Jesus Christ, querida—" Javier begins to warn, hands gripping your thighs. Your hand curls into his hair and you tug so he has to tilt his head back to your hungry mouth. Javi is about to tell you how you're pushing him over the edge of control when you graze your teeth in that spot right under his earlobe and suckle it.

You're suddenly dizzy from the change in positions after Javi rears up and tosses you onto the bed before he yanks you to glide across the soft surface when he bracelets your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed. Brusquely, he shoves his cock back into you from behind and has you on your knees when he drapes his forearm over your collarbones and pins you back against his torso as he starts fucking you with abandon. "Nngth!" you whimper and gasp, arching into him when Javier licks your neck and settles his mouth over your pulse just as he slams into that tender point in you that has you trembling as he rockets you up towards another searing orgasm so close after the last one. His other arm encircles your waist as he rocks you onto him, hips snapping up into you before he harshly moans his climax when your fluttering cunt floods and clutches libidinously around his cock. "Javi!" you pant out, pitch tight and needy as he prolongs your ecstasy by thrusting through your rippling sheath.

"Fucking hell—" he exhales against you as he feels his body burn with savage accomplishment. He's sweating – still dressed, albeit disheveled – and breathing hard as you go pliant in his arms. They're still pinning you to him, and you're precariously balanced upright on your knees with his lap flush against your ass and thighs spread to keep you open to him.

You can feel his heartbeat at your back and inside you. It's divine, and you're radiating with rapture from such a lurid sensation.

With a little sound, you sigh delightedly as he lets you unfurl to the bed so he can collapse in a spent heap next to you. You're both like that, just heaving, sweaty forms of buzzing completion, for a while. The sick satisfaction of being railed and wrecked by Javi is deliriously gratifying, and you can't help smile as you finally catch your breath enough to roll onto your side and check on him.

He looks just as wrecked, and the swell of accomplishment has you giddy. Javier has a forearm draped over his eyes while the other is across his stomach – legs hanging over the edge of the bed and spread wide. His muscles are covered in a thin sheen of sweat, dark vellos below his navel looking enticing enough to comb your nails through while the V-shape of his hips is just asking for kisses. What a fucking sight, you pine, and manage to tenderly shimmy to the edge of the bed so you can go to work undressing him. You tug his boots off one at a time and set them aside on the floor before peeling his jeans the rest of the way down his hips and tugging them off his legs. The whole time you're undressing him, Javi is just lying there, panting and making soft grunts from your doting ministrations. You even tend to the condom, and he hisses and fidgets under you.

"Baby—" he protests, but hums when you kiss his chest and slap his arm away when he tries to lazily pull you down. The sensation of you giving him aftercare has the space behind his sternum expanding, buzzing with warmth. It's all too much for him after he almost treated you like—

"Sit up for me," you murmur as you straddle his hips and tug at his wrists. Javi complies and lets you work his shirt off to be tossed with the rest of his clothes before you encircle your arms around his shoulders and give him a loving hug.

He buries his face against you and wraps his arms around your torso, squeezing with more than affection while you sigh and smile.

"You hungry?"

Javier laughs, shaking his head musingly and nuzzling you, his smile soft and the brooding cloud that was coming over him blown apart by your ability to anchor him from going adrift. "Yeah, I could eat," he chuckles and kisses you.

You both sit in bed and eat, naked and content as you talk about anything and everything. He compliments your cooking while you beam and brag that you make a mean lasagna.

"Well now you have to make it, if you're gonna brag like that," he teases, smirking goadingly over the rim of his glass before he takes a long sip.

"Alright, tough guy, I will. You better be prepared to eat it all," you counter sardonically and set your plates aside on the nightstand.

"When has that ever been a problem," he poses, but the dirty double meaning is obvious as he bounces his brows at you.

You swat his bicep and giggle, "How have you gotten through life being such a perv?"

"It's been very hard," he quips, and you scoff at yet another raunchy pun.

The smile doesn't leave your lips though the rest of the night as he washes dishes while you put everything away in the fridge. He looks good in just his half-unfastened jeans as he rinses cutlery at the sink, and he keeps stealing glances at you wearing the nighty you pulled out of the recesses of a drawer.

You sensed that heaviness well up in him before, and are glad you could tug him free of it. The curiosity to ask him is there, but you instead deny yourself. It's enough that he pulled you close and melted into you. The feeling of pride that coils in your heart at that is something you want to cherish and not question – at least not yet.

Once settled under the covers and lying together in the dark, you sidle close to him and relish how he loops his arm around you and kisses your forehead.

You can only manage to say goodbye to him in the morning because he took you while you writhed into the pillows and dug your fingertips into his back as he murmured filthy praise before grumbling how he'd have to be stuck only thinking about doing this for the next few days. He lingers in the doorway, showered and refreshed, as if deliberating something, so you roll your eyes and rise to your tippy toes to kiss his lips. "Go, or the next manhunt will be Murphy looking for you and finding you in my bed," you quip laconically.

He snickers – smirk revealing that dimple in his cheek as he affectionately pats your silky-robe-covered ass and muses, "I'll be back, preciosa. Pórtate bien."

You roll your eyes and purse your lips at him, crossing your arms and watching him go, duffle slung over his shoulder as he lopes off.

As you close the door and lean back against it, you can't help the self-deprecating thought:

You're trying and failing miserably. Crashing and burning for Javi Peña, and you're happy about it?

With a dramatic exhale, you shrug, rescind. Yep, you're happy about it, and you're not going to care to change that, until you care to.

_________________________________________

Read Chapter 4: Cagey

Spanish-English Glossary:

Solterita = Name of Colombian orange zest cookie; also the term for a "single gal" Ese hombre era guapísimo = That man was ridiculously handsome Lo se. Pero no se lo diga si lo ve otra vez = I know, but don't go telling him that if you see him again ¡Un momento! = One moment! Ah, mira quien es = Well, look who it is Señorita = little lady Ramera = Whore; prostitute No, pa'bajo = No, get down Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire ¡Eso es de nenas! = Akin to saying "That's for silly girls" Chavón = a man that's pestering you Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog" Eres tan rica, preciosa = You're so good/You taste so good, gorgeous No seas mala = Don't be bad Malcriada = Bratty woman; spoiled woman; naughty woman Vellos = hair; peach fuzz Cariño = darling/sweetheart Descarado = cad; scoundrel; rake Agente = agent Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy Pórtate bien = Be good/Behave

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful.

#Heat - Narcos fanfic #Javier Peña #Javi Peña #Javi Peña #Narcos #Narcos fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal simp #Javi Peña x Latina OFC

[ethanesimp]

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove​ @superchrystaldrug​ @reputationdamiano​​

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand. 

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file. 

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it. 

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved. 

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working. 

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not. 

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed. 

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

-

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you. 

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?” 

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead. 

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand. 

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

-

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints. 

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent. 

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?” 

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.” 

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—” 

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife. 

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.  

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves. 

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter. 

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel. 

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind. 

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again. 

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

— 

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it. 

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning. 

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting. 

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

— 

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him… 

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

— 

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot. 

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly. 

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe. 

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright. 

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left. 

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

— 

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

[whatiwillsay]

submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me.  but i am very emotional right now.  i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience.  ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support.  have you been financially impacted by this?  we can raise money.  do you need therapy?  we can help you find the support you need.  this community is unequivocally here for you.  whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will.  you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this.  i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened.  this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do.  this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

#submission #tw: abuse #tw: homophobia

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Conflict

Based on this request: Could you perhaps write something for a female Wolfshifter in Twilight who has the feeling of not fitting in with the pack? She knows the Cullens and always liked them. She especially likes Carlisle, Alice, Esme and Emmet. This brings conflicts with the Wolf Pack and somewhere along the line the reader is estranged to her whole community due to always protecting the Cullens. Carlisle and Co become aware of this and make an effort to integrate the reader into the Cullen family.I'm really looking forward to your imagines. The recently posted requests seem very interesting! But please don't overwork yourself. :)

AND this one:  May I request one of your Volturi imagines where the reader is a werwolf shapeshifter but has come to think of the Volturi as her family, so she protects them? Especially Marcus, Aro and Jane. Carlisle and the Cullens come to Volterra to bring her home because they thinknof her as a daughter. And so the reader is torn due to her loyalties to both her families?I always look forward to your imagines! Thank you for writing them for us! :D

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: Twilight

Warnings: Angst, feeling like you don’t belong. A little familial fluff?

Pairings/Characters: Fem!shifter reader, Olympic Coven(Cullens), Volturi, Quileute Shifter Pack

Being one of two female wolves in the pack didn't exactly make for good company. Leah, as much as you loved her, was still so in love with Sam, she couldn't see passed the end of her nose. But at least she had her brother. And you really couldn't relate to any of the guys. That left you on your own. You hated it. You hated not fitting in. But when you officially met the Cullens and the Volturi, that changed.

          You had been running through the woods alongside the border between your two lands when you were injured somehow. You were bleeding profusely and, in your state, you accidentally crossed into the Cullen's territory. Emmett and Carlisle had been out hunting when they found you. At first, they weren't happy, but when they realized you were hurt, Emmett wasted no time in scooping you up and running you back to the house. That was the beginning of a few lasting friendships, although you didn't linger in person for too long. You knew vampires didn't like the smell of shifters, even though you showered all the time.

         The Cullens soon became like your family, much to the annoyance of the pack. They always complained about you smelling like a leech whenever you came back from visiting the Cullens. You didn't care. At least with the vampires, you felt some sense of belonging. You became very protective of them. And then, you met the Volturi and your family grew.

         After working and saving up for nearly a year, you were finally able to go on a little vacation and you decided that Italy would be for the best. That was where you met the Volturi. Aro had read your thoughts and assured the others that you weren't a threat. Once you got used to one another, you decided to stay in Italy for a while. Soon, the Volturi were like family as well. Except for Caius. He took a little bit longer because of his experience with the Children of the Moon. Either way, now you had two families that were both vampires and you loved them both.

         But the conflict between the pack and the Cullens had grown more tense in your absence. The pack believed the Cullens had done something to you. The Cullens themselves didn't care what the pack thought, but the longer tensions went on, the more difficult it would be the Cullens to remain in Forks. So they decided to do something about it. They were going to bring you home.

         "Masters, the Olympic Coven has been sighted on the outskirts of the city," Demetri explained one evening while you were visiting the castle. Your ears perked up at the mention of your other family, making Aro smile. "Perhaps they have come for a our…'friend'," Caius said, earning a slight glare from you. He gave you a smile that was meant to be both threatening and teasing. That was the nature of your relationship with him now.

         "Perhaps they have. Very well. Demetri, if you and Felix would be so kind?" In an instant, the two vampires in question were gone and a few moments later, returned with Carlisle and a couple other members of the coven. You were running toward them before you could stop yourself, happy to see your other family again. Carlisle wrapped you up in a hug, followed by Edward and then Jasper.

         "I missed you guys!" you said gleefully. Carlisle replied that they had missed you as well. "We've come to bring you back to Forks with us." There was a little hissing from all around you. Carlisle put his hands up in a manner to show that he was no threat. "B-But I like it here. The Volturi, they're my family too." Carlisle gave you a sad smile.

         "I know, Y/N. I do understand. But, the pack…they are becoming more aggressive by the day. They believe we're keeping you against your will, not allowing them to come back. Jacob is doing what he can to pacify them, but most don't believe him. Some are threatening to break away and break the treaty." You felt tears welling up in your eyes. The pack had never cared about you before, but now they were willing to destroy three families because of you?

         You were distressed by the news at first, but then, you became angry. The pack was threatening the people you loved. You could feel your body growing warm as your anger rose. "Y/N, dear, you must calm yourself. We don't need you shifting in here." You glanced back at Aro before looking at Edward. He read your mind and smiled stiffly. "You can come back. As long as the pack sees that you're safe, they will leave us alone."

         You looked between the Cullens and the Volturi. They were all awaiting your decision. You were torn. You loved being in Italy with the Volturi, but you were needed back in Forks. But what would happen if your meeting with the pack failed? Then everyone would be in danger. You could feel your protective instinct rising again. You knew you needed to get out of the castle for a while to calm yourself and think properly. So, you ran.

         "Where is she going?" you heard Caius ask. You didn't stop. You knew Edward would explain what was going on. You made your way to the outskirts of the city, preparing yourself for the shift when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You whirled around to come face-to-face with Caius. "No offense, but I'm not in the mood right now."

         "Well, that is too bad, I'm sorry to say." You growled lowly, but there was no malice behind it. "You're worried about us. Protective even. Why?" You sighed. "You're family, Caius. Even though you hate me for what I am, I still view all of you as my family and I protect those I love. Just like you." Caius didn't say anything for a moment but then, a smile slowly made its way onto his lips. A real smile.

         "Then we finally agree on something. And you have a decision to make. Whatever you decide, we will be with you." With that, he sped off again, leaving you to think. You'd calmed down enough in your surprise that you didn't feel like you were going to shift involuntarily. Caius was right. You had to make a decision and you hated it. You didn't want to leave Volterra, but you also didn't want to leave the Cullens at the mercy of the pack that never treated you as equal. What were you going to do?

(a/n: I hope you like it! Tag lists are open for all fandoms and characters on this blog.)

#twilight #xreader #fem!reader #shifter!reader #olympic coven #the cullens #the volturi #shifters