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megalony · 3 months

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Light Duties

This is an Eddie x Reader x Evan imagine, requested by anon. I really like this prompt/ idea and I hope you will all like it. Feedback is always lovely to hear.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is put on light duties at the station when she's pregnant. But the boys start worrying when she becomes ill while on shift.

Enjoy.

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A soft smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she quietly walked into the locker room and noticed Evan slumped down on the bench. He had his shoulders hunched and his back arched forward. Both his knees were spread wide and he had a towel thrown over his shoulder. The vest and button up shirt laid neatly on the bench next to him gave away what he had been doing.

He had been down in the gym for an hour while they had time to spare between callouts.

Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) ran her fingers along the back of his shoulders and up his neck. She felt the way he shivered beneath her touch and he turned his head to kiss her wrist before she let go and moved in front of him towards the lockers.

"Can I help you?" Sarcasm dripped from Evan's teasing tone and he lifted his head up, his lips curved into a smirk on one side as he squinted over at his girl.

She was going into his locker.

"You can, actually. Let me borrow a shirt, please?"

When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, she already knew that batting her eyes had won him over. His smirk faded into a cheesy, warm smile as he tossed the towel down beside him and moved his hands to his knees so he could push himself up to his feet.

He sauntered over until he was stood behind her and Evan rested his right arm against a locker while his other hand cupped (Y/n)'s hip and he looked down at her with raised brows.

"And why should I do that?" He kissed the top of her head but (Y/n) had already found a spare cotton shirt in his locker. She pulled it off the hanger before she shut his locker and turned to face him.

"Because I've officially outgrown all of mine, and that is your fault."

(Y/n) jabbed her finger playfully into Evan's bare chest before she motioned down at her own shirt with a frown. A small huff escaped her lips when Evan let out a laugh and grinned. He may find this highly amusing, but (Y/n) didn't. She couldn't wear her own cotton shirts anymore because they wouldn't stretch over her stomach, so she had been wearing her button up shirts that gave a bit more leeway.

But now her buttons weren't doing up. She had worn her button up shirt for the morning but it was far too tight and she needed to change before she felt sick.

(Y/n) didn't have any other work shirts that were the right size, but lucky for her, both her men had a lot of work clothes that would fit over her six-month baby bump.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Evan pressed his back up against the locker and folded his arms over his chest, making no effort to move or look away.

He quite liked the view he was getting right now. He watched with a grin as (Y/n) unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it over to him so he could put it in her locker he was leaning against. His eyes remained glued to her frame as she stood in her dark navy trousers and matching blue bra. (Y/n) was lucky that when her work trousers wouldn't do up at the clasp, she had some elasticated trousers that were the same colour which she could use for work.

She knew she was lucky she was even still allowed to go out on calls at the moment.

Bobby was monitoring each call (Y/n) went on, she could go on the small, non-evasive callouts and help as a medic. But no heavy lifting, no going into burning buildings or evactuating dangerous situations. No going into the scene at a car crash, she had to stay on the side lines and await orders.

Restricted duties had never felt so boring.

"I won't be able to fit in the truck soon." (Y/n) cast a look over her shoulder when Evan wolf-whistled at her.

She was only joking, mostly.

She was grateful to still be able to work even if that meant stocking the trucks and the ambulance and tidying up or hanging back on most of their calls. She still got to try and help and be somewhat useful, and at least one of her boys was always on shift with her at the moment which was a bonus.

(Y/n) grabbed Evan's shirt and reeled it over her head, smiling triumphantly when she dragged it over her stomach and it fit. It felt a little snug around the waist but it fit and it was loose on her shoulders. As long as she could breathe and move without feeling like a belt was wrapped around her torso, she would be happy.

She tucked it into the hem of her trousers just as she felt Evan's hands clamping down on her hips. His chest pressed up into her back and he kissed the top of her head again.

"Lookin' good." He whispered quietly into her hair before he pulled back and leaned down to drag his shirt over his head and slide his arms into his shirt.

(Y/n) could feel him hovering close behind her when they left the locker room and headed over to the stairs. It seemed to take forever to climb the stairs and (Y/n) was suddenly glad they all lived in a bungalow. It didn't help that her headache was starting to come back with a vengeance and that combined with how lightheaded she felt made her feel like she had vertigo.

Evan's hands found her hips by the time they reached the top of the stairs and he gave her a tight squeeze before he veered off to the right to go and sit down at the table. While (Y/n) made a beeline for the fridge; she wanted a drink to ward off her headache.

It was no secret that the job they all had was stressful and time consuming and that meant they didn't always get to eat or drink regularly enough. (Y/n) had stockpiled the fridge with bottles of water and juice so if anyone wanted one, they could snatch one on the way to a call.

She had been collared enough by Eddie telling her she needed to drink more after she became very dehydrated a few months back. And she would be damned if she let that happen again.

(Y/n) barely had chance to open the fridge before her shoulders hunched up and she cringed when the alarm sounded.

She heaved the door open, grabbed a bottle of orange juice and shut the door just in time to come face to face with Bobby. He dried his hands, checked the oven wasn't turned on, and went to leave the kitchen until (Y/n)'s eyes fell on him.

"Am I on this one?" She had to have Bobby's express permission about which callouts she was allowed to join.

If she couldn't join, (Y/n) ended up tidying up the station, filing some paperwork and doing inventory. The station had never looked so organised since (Y/n) had been put on restricted duties and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she was glad now that she was on light duties. These last two or three weeks had been tiring and (Y/n) was flagging. She was at the point of telling the boys they were right and she had to take things easy. The baby was draining her energy.

Bobby tilted his head up and paid close attention to the dispatch notes to see where they were going. An accident at a bike race downtown. nothing too serious or major, no threats. (Y/n) could join this one.

"Hop in the truck."

She smiled and nodded in response, letting Bobby speed in front of her before she followed along behind him. Evan was already halfway downstairs with Hen and when (Y/n) reached the stairs, Eddie was up from the sofa and stood behind her ready to follow along.

Her head tilted back to look up at him when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Have you shrunk?" Eddie scrunched up her shirt and gave it a small tug as he raised a brow and quirked a smile.

"Quite the opposite," (Y/n) whispered back before she reached her free hand out to hold the railing as they made their descent downstairs.

"I told you." He muttered quietly as he followed her down. Eddie was the one who had been telling (Y/n) for the last few weeks that she needed to change her uniform and start taking things easy. She had been living in denial, desperate to carry on as normal with both her dress code and trying to do her part on the job. It looks like she would finally start to listen to him.

Eddie let his eyes dance across the station towards the truck everyone was aiming towards, and he let his gaze drift away from (Y/n) for a few seconds. But when he looked back down at her, he narrowed his eyes and reached his arm out to curl around her waist. She had slowed down rather than speeding up considering they needed to get into the truck and be on their way.

"Alright?" He mumbled into her hair as he glued his chest up against her back and let his hand flutter along the curve of her stomach.

She hummed and nodded, taking a deep breath as her fingers clenched around the bottle in her hand that started to creak and crumple from her force.

She had a headache.

Her head felt like it was slowly being pumped full of air and the feeling made her skin prickle and come over with shudders and a wave of heat. It was like an odd sense of a hot flush despite her fingertips being cold and a little numb.

She could feel Eddie's hand move to cup her hip when they headed over to the truck. Bobby was in the front with Samuel who was driving, Hen was in the ambulance and Evan and Chimney were already seated in the back of the truck.

(Y/n) tossed her bottle onto the nearest seat and propelled herself up but the moment she got into the truck, it was like her head suddenly weighed a ton. She reached her hand out and braced herself on Evan's knee so she could slump down into the seat next to him with a thud. Her head fell back against the headrest and she closed her eyes, clenching her hand around Evan's knee tight enough to make him frown.

"What's up?" He spoke loud enough to catch Eddie's attention who barely sat down before his head snapped up to look across at both his partners.

Eddie grabbed his belt and snapped it in before he leaned across with his elbows braced on his knees and his hands tight together between his thighs. He reached out and nudged his foot against (Y/n)'s leg when she didn't say anything and stayed rather tense like she was praying.

"Babe?"

"Just a dizzy spell, I'm good."

(Y/n) took a deep breath and released her grip on Evan's thigh and when she opened her eyes, she was relieved that the spots had vanished and her head finally started to simmer down. Her smile reassured the boys just a little but she could see the apprehension in their eyes.

She reached back and grabbed her belt, huffing and muttering a quiet 'Christ' when she had to wrench it to fit it around her stomach. She felt like she had gained three stone in the last two weeks but it was only because she hadn't had that many shifts. She hadn't even been in the truck on her last two shifts because all the callouts were 'too demanding' and serious for her to join.

"Have a drink." Evan reached out for her drink and held it out to her after she grabbed her headset and slumped them over her ears. He draped his arm around the back of her shoulders and turned to look over her head so he could see out the window.

"So, one more month, then you'll be leaving us." Chimney smiled across at (Y/n) from where he was sat opposite Evan, next to Eddie.

She only had one more month on duty, then she would be off on maternity leave. It would be too much stress and hassle working while she would be seven months pregnant. And Bobby had to pull a few strings to let Eddie and Evan both have the same three weeks off work for when the baby was born. It meant the station would be down three of their main workers.

There was a replacement in line for (Y/n) since she was having the longest time off and Bobby was currently searching for two people to come in for a month while the boys were off.

"You gonna miss me?"

"Don't know what we're gonna do without you."

A grin pulled at (Y/n)'s lips despite the headache flooding through her temple again when Bobby piped up and leaned to look in the back of the truck. None of them coped well when they had to have a shift or a change in structure or their team. It would take them a few weeks to get used to a new person being around, and then once they were used to it, (Y/n) would be back and everything would shift again.

"Baby you'll be sick," Evan mumbled against (Y/n)'s hair as he moved his hand off her shoulder and pushed the drink down before she guzzled it all in one go.

(Y/n) nodded and capped the drink, setting the bottle down beside her but she could feel Evan tutting into her hair. She had downed three quarters of it in one go. He knew what would happen, she would down it all and then throw it up, especially since it was orange juice and very acidic. It was what happened when she had morning sickness.

She would throw up, become thirsty, guzzle too much of anything and then throw it back up again because her stomach wasn't settled.

(Y/n) reached her hand up and held onto Evan's hand that was resting on her shoulder. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes, wincing every time the truck went over a bump that jostled her stomach and sent her head reeling. She managed to cross one leg over the other and reached her foot out until she could brush the end of her boot up and down Eddie's leg.

She prayed her headache would lift soon. (Y/n) almost fell asleep by the time to truck rolled to a stop at the park. She shuffled to the right as Evan unbuckled and patted her knee to let her know they were here. She stayed in her seat to let Evan hop up and lead the way off the truck, followed swiftly by Chimney.

A gentle smile lit up Eddie's face as he took off his headset and removed his belt. He pushed up and leaned over (Y/n), swiping the headset from her ears before he squeezed her thigh, muttering a quiet 'come on baby.'

(Y/n) grumbled but complied, unclipping her belt as she shifted and cracked her spine back into place. But when she opened her eyes, her heart jumped up into her throat.

She couldn't see.

Horrible black and white spots sparkled in front of her eyes like shimmering diamonds, covering over half of her vision until she could barely see Eddie stood in front of her. Just when Eddie went to climb down, he stopped and turned back around when (Y/n)'s hands clamped down on his wrist and yanked him back to her. A panicked gasp caught in the back of her throat and her nails scratched into his arm and made him shiver in panic.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Eddie turned back to face her and crouched down until her knees pressed into his chest and he could smooth his hands up and down her thighs.

"I- fuck!" (Y/n) kept her hand deadlocked around Eddie's wrist but she moved her other hand to furiously rub her eyes and try to apply some pressure to her temple to see if it would help. Her head tilted back in the seat and she took a few deep breaths to see if it would do anything to make the air disappear and clear the spots from her eyes.

"Are you having pains? Baby look at me please." He pushed up to crouch over her and pinched her chin in his hand while his other hand moved to try and get her to open her eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to open her eyes in case the spots danced in front of her eyes again but when she dared to open them, a sudden wave of relief overtook her. She could see him again. The spots felt like flashing blinkers that were fading into the background. They became little dots and flickers that she barely noticed and she could see her loving partner hovering over her with a very panicked expression.

"No… oh, just a bad head. It's going now," She tried to smile and released the grip she had on Eddie's wrist when she realised she was squeezing him a bit too tight.

"Baby you should sit this one out-"

"Hey, what are you two doing? Come on, we gotta go." Evan hopped up on the bottom step and leaned into the truck far enough to swat his hand down on Eddie's backside. He grinned at the glare Eddie shot his way over his shoulder and reached out for (Y/n)'s waist when she stood up and held his shoulder as she bypassed Eddie and climbed down.

"She's not feeling well."

(Y/n) pressed her lips together tightly, praying Bobby hadn't heard Eddie's little remark. She didn't need him telling her to sit this one out when she was already here now. There was no point sitting and waiting in the truck feeling like a useless, spare part. She wanted to help while she still could.

Moving to the side of the truck, (Y/n) opened up the hatch and grabbed the medic bag but she barely hooked the strap over her shoulder before Eddie stood in front of her. She thought he was about to tell her to hang back but he just stared her down with a silent, unhappy expression before he took the bag from her and slung it on his shoulder.

"Hey-"

"You're carrying enough already, come on." Evan pressed his hand to her lower back and nodded at her to start walking.

She was about to tell him she wasn't carrying anything at all until she realised he was referring to the baby. Her hand absentmindedly moved to rub along her stomach as they walked just behind the rest of the team.

They cut across the grass and bypassed the crowds hovering around so they could get onto the track. They were in the local park. A bicycle race had taken place this morning but someone had crashed and caused a pile up. Another station and another two ambulances were in tow just behind them to help as they were told they had a few casualties.

"Alright, spread out team you all know what to do. Direct anyone that can walk over to the medic tent set up across the field. Shout when you're ready to transport."

Bobby waved his hand out as a signal for everyone to pick a casualty to help. They needed to get everyone prepped and stable to be transported down to the hospital if they needed treatment. A few of the bikers could get away with a bandaid or a few stitches here and now.

"Off we go," Evan whispered quietly against (Y/n)'s temple as he handed her his medic bag and moved to help Chimney.

(Y/n) took a deep breath to fight off her dull headache and plastered a calm smile on her face. She looked around before moving towards a man sat next to his bike. He looked rather calm and relatively unharmed, she could patch him up and send him over to the paramedics at the tent. It didn't take long to get his broken hand in a splint, bandaged up and him sent on his way to the medical tent for another quick observation.

But once he was off, (Y/n) bowed her head and pressed her hand to her back.

She felt sick.

Her head was swimming. She wanted to throw up, sit down and go to sleep all at once. The spots were coming back in front of her eyes. Little flashing sparkles glazed across her vision and made her head ache and spin and twist horribly. It felt like someone was hitting her repeatedly with a hammer. Maybe she needed another drink. Maybe she was coming down with something. Perhaps she needed to take things a bit slower from now on.

"Oh no- no, someone else can treat me."

Her head lifted up and she looked around to search for the owner of that voice. Whoever it was sounded angry, disgusted and full of sizzling pain.

Her eyes found Hen, knelt down beside a man who was laid just off the side of the track. He was propped up against a tree, both hands cradling his leg as he groaned and tried to stop fidgeting and moving around. But when he looked back up at Hen, he shook his head and leaned away from her. He was refusing to have her treat him.

Hen groaned and turned to look over her shoulder and when her eyes locked with (Y/n), she waved her over.

"Oh God," (Y/n) mumbled quietly as she straightened up and moved her hand from her back to cradle her abdomen. She tried to plaster a smile back on her face as she slowly walked across the grass verge towards them with apprehension in her steps. This didn't feel like it was going to go over well.

"This is (Y/n), is she more to your liking?" The sarcasm dripped from Hen's voice but she did well to control her expression as she got up and backed a few feet away.

He looked to be in his mid-twenties, his helmet was tossed on the floor beside him. He had a very deep gash cut through the back of his knee and it was bleeding out. He needed a turniquet on his leg to stem the bleed, some morphine and they had to check his artery wasn't cut in the process. Then he would have to be a priority to head to hospital to be stitched up.

(Y/n) leaned her hand on the tree and carefully lowered herself down on her knees next to him. She landed with a thud but it felt better to be knelt down than to be stood up with a what felt like vertigo overwhelming her.

"Sir, can I take a look at your leg?"

"God, don't you have any real medics in your squad?"

"I beg your pardon?" The headache pounding behind her eyes got worse and (Y/n) leaned back to rub her hand across her temple. She wasn't in the mood to have some racist, mysoginist demand the best help they had when he wasn't in peril and they were all perfectly adequate at their jobs.

When he refused to answer her and didn't even bother to look at her, (Y/n) turned to look up at Hen. Was he being serious? Was he really refusing their help, refusing treatment, because they were women? What time did he think he lived in, the nineteen-twenties?

"Diaz." Hen waved her hand over towards Eddie who was pointing someone in the direction of the paramedics.

"Diaz? What kind of name is that? Where's he from?"

A frown formed on Eddie's lips and he planted his hands down on his hips as he walked over towards them. He stood behind (Y/n), close enough that he could feel her shoulders pressing back into his thighs. He caught his breaths back and looked between both girls as he waited to be told what was going on, but they didn't need to say much. Their expressions told him they had a tough patient here.

"My dad's Mexican," When the man tutted, Eddie almost smiled. "My mother's Swedish, would you like me to help you with the Swedish half… although I don't know which half that is." Eddie held his hands out before he placed them back down on his hips. This man wasn't going to be satisfied with anyone but a white, privellaged male doctor with an old fashioned name.

"Oh come on, get one of the professionals-"

"Sir, you have three trained medics here trying to help you." Hen jutted a hip out to the side and clasped her hands together in front of her to stop herself from going off on a tangent.

"Trained? He's from the boarder, I don't want to guess where you're from and she's as good as a hormonal teenager. Should she even be here in that condition?"

A rumbling set in around them as the atmosphere changed and all of them could feel it. (Y/n)'s eyes widened and she turned her head to look behind her up at Eddie. He was fuming. She could see his hands starting to shake and his jaw tightened until his teeth were grating together and clicking from side to side. The end of his nose crinkled and he took a very deep breath to calm himself down before he said something he shouldn't.

"I'll inform my Captain that you've refused medical treatment. Feel free to sit there as long as you like." The smile on Eddie's face was laced with sarcasm while he reached down and picked up (Y/n)'s medic bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"I didn't-"

"Sir, you've turned down three medics, not to mention you've just insulted each of us. We have other patients we can tend to." Hen picked up her own bag and turned to find another patient.

When (Y/n) turned to the right, Eddie reached his hands out in front of her to offer to pull her up.

His hands curled around hers and he effortlessly hoisted her up to her feet. Once she was stood in front of him, his hands moved to hold her hips and he smothered his lips against the back of her head as he turned her around and started to guide her away. He wasn't having her around someone like that, he was getting aggressive and that was a danger. And if he refused all three of them, then he was refusing to accept treatment and they couldn't force him to accept their help.

Someone would come along who he was happy with and then he would get the help he needed. Eddie would keep an eye in this direction and tell Bobby what had happened. The man might be satisfied if Bobby helped him since he was a Captain, or they could send Evan his way.

Eddie kept his hand against (Y/n)'s lower back but just as they walked towards the middle of the field where Bobby, Chimney and Evan were all grouped, (Y/n) stopped.

She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth while her other hand clamped down on her hip. (Y/n) turned her head to the left and closed her eyes, doing her best to take in a deep breath and ward off the sudden wave of sickness that washed over her.

"You okay babe?"

"Hm." (Y/n) nodded, keeping her eyes closed as she swallowed and gulped a deep breath but it seemed to make her feel worse.

Her hands moved to grip her thighs and she doubled over, leaning as far forwards as she could to throw up onto the grass. She felt Eddie's hand curve round from her back to hold her hip and his other hand moved to grip her hand in case she lost her balance.

Her throat burned when her lunch crawled back up along with all the fluids she had tried to drink this morning. When she couldn't stop heaving, her stomach twinged and pulled inwards as she gasped for a proper breath.

"Try and breathe for me baby… let's get you back in the truck." Eddie rummaged around in the bag on his shoulder and found a wad of gauze. He handed it out to (Y/n) when she finally stopped being sick and she took it gratefully. His hands cupped her hips and he gently reeled her back up, letting her lean back into his chest while his eyes locked with Evan.

"Are you alright?" Hen bit the corner of her lip and smiled sadly at (Y/n). She had given the boys a reason to end her shift early. She couldn't stay on shift when she'd been sick.

(Y/n) couldn't find the will to speak but she managed to nod her head, covering up a wince when it made her head spin.

"We're almost done here, why don't you wait back in the truck?" Bobby's words were an order, not a suggestion and (Y/n) knew it. She let Eddie walk her back to the truck and when she got up, she felt like someone had drained her into a puddle.

She barely heard Eddie whisper to shout for him if she needed anything and she didn't realise she was nodding and smiling until his touch retracted and she was suddenly alone. Her head slumped against the window and her hands rubbed up and down her thighs until she was scratching her nails into her thighs through her trousers.

She didn't feel good.

It didn't take long for the team to finish up and pile back into the truck. Chimney drove the empty ambulance back to the station while Evan, Eddie and Hen rode back in the truck with Bobby and (Y/n).

(Y/n) felt Eddie sit down next to her and she didn't say a word when he pulled her belt round and placed the headset back over her ears. But when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, (Y/n) grumbled and pulled away. She slumped her cheek onto his shoulder and curled her hands around his arm. She just wanted to get back to the station and try to sit down and have a drink.

"You're flushed," Eddie commented quietly while he moved his fingers to grip her wrist and feel her pulse.

"It's just a headache." She murmured into his skin while Evan sat down on her left and moved his hand to hold her thigh. He took to looking out the window, he knew it was pointless trying to argue with (Y/n). He would talk to Bobby when they got back about taking her home and he and Eddie wouldn't give her a choice.

She needed to rest.

The journey felt a lot less frantic than it did earlier because they were taking a slow ride through traffic. No sirens wailing trying to deafen them, no sharp corners or twisting stomachs from the speed and sharp bends they took. Cruising in the truck felt a lot nicer. But (Y/n) could still feel every bump they went over. She could feel the jolts shooting up her spine and her head lolled back against the seat until it felt like she had a concussion.

When they went over a particularly hard bump, (Y/n) opened her eyes, unable to hide her groan when she realised the dots were blurring her vision again.

Her hands moved to run down her face before she leaned her head back and moved her hand to grip and pull on Evan's arm.

"I- I'm gonna be sick!"

"Cap, pull over, (Y/n) needs to get out." Evan reached his arm behind him and swatted his hand on Bobby's shoulder to grab his attention. They had nothing in the back here for (Y/n) to throw up into and no equipment to help her if she needed a drink or fluids or an exam.

Eddie swiped the headset off his head and did the same to (Y/n)'s before he got up and opened the door when Bobby pulled over on the curb. Eddie hopped down and turned around just as (Y/n) and Evan stumbled out. He was surprised how fast (Y/n) moved but his arms reached out for her when she doubled over and threw up when she barely got onto the pavement.

"Alright, baby let's sit you down." He kissed the back of her head and slowly lowered them both down until they were kneeling on the floor. While Evan moved to stand behind her, both his hands gripping her shoulders to try and give her some comfort.

"Hen-"

"I'm on it." She rounded the side of the truck and grabbed one of the medic bags from the compartment before she moved to kneel on (Y/n)'s other side near Evan.

Eddie placed a monitoring clip on her index finger while (Y/n) closed her eyes and tilted her head back into Evan's chest.

She let Hen take her left arm and slip a blood pressure cuff up around her bicep. The tightening, numb feeling made her head spin and sent her stomach jolting again. Having her blood pressure taken always made (Y/n) feel like her arm was being chopped off and it made her hand go numb.

"BP's elevated and pulse is racing." Hen slipped the cuff off (Y/n)'s arm and listened to her heartbeat. She tried to keep a calm expression, despite feeling both men staring into her when she moved the stethoscope to press it against (Y/n)'s stomach. "Fetal heartbeat sounds good."

Evan sighed and kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head, smiling into her skin as he whispered a quiet 'baby's good' into her hair.

"It's h-happening again."

"What is?" Eddie looked (Y/n) up and down before he glanced up at Evan but his expression was blank, morphing into confusion. Neither of them knew what she was talking about.

"Spots." (Y/n) flailed her free hand around her face until she could point to her eyes. She tried to open them but all she ended up doing was blinking furiously like she was trying to get sand out her eyes. She couldn't see properly. Black spots were dancing across her eyes like they had earlier in the truck with Eddie. She was either going to pass out or she was having vision problems as a sign for something else.

Her hand gripped Evan's wrist on her shoulder when Hen leaned over her and lifted her eyelid so she could flash a light across her pupils. "I think you might be developing pre-eclampsia."

"Dispatch, this is Captain Nash. We're going to redirect to Mercy General, we have a firefighter down. Please advise a midwife to be on standby." Bobby placed his free hand on his hip as he did a quick sweep around. Chimney would be back at the station by now which was a good thing, he could man the station while they turned right and made a quick stop to the hospital.

"Let's get you back inside, babe."

Reaching down, Evan looped his hands beneath (Y/n)'s arms when Eddie and Hen held one of her hands each. He bent his knees and slowly pulled (Y/n) up until she was back on her feet but his lips pressed together tightly when her head fell back on his shoulder and a groan tumbled past her lips.

"Don't you pass out on us, hm?" Evan pecked her temple and turned her around to face the truck. His arms cocooned into her waist and his hands held her stomach.

He could feel Hen hovering nervously behind him while Bobby got back in the truck and Eddie climbed up in front of them so he could reach down for (Y/n)'s hands and pull her up.

Once she was up, (Y/n) let her head slump forward into Eddie's chest and her knees caved. She didn't feel Evan digging his hands into her skin as he pulled her back into him and twisted to the side to ease her down into one of the seats. They strapped her belt round her and Eddie let her head slump back on his shoulder so she wasn't at risk of falling forwards and crumpling over like a piece of paper.

Evan kept one hand on (Y/n)'s stomach while he stretched his other arm across the back of her and Eddie's seats. He leaned forward to kiss the back of (Y/n)'s head while Eddie brushed his thumb across her jaw.

"What're we gonna do with you, hm?"

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #pregnant! reader #911 imagine #imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #eddie x buck #eddie diaz imagine #buck x eddie #eddie x reader #bobby nash

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carrymelikeimcute · 6 months

Text

Going over the izzy/lucius/shark exchange is so interesting in the context of this being an episode about apologies. About making concessions and trying to fix things.

(In this ep there's a lot about ed making amends/accommodating the crew's triggers and trauma. It's also about stede having to fix things when he upsets the superstitious crew by not treating their feelings as valid.)

At the start we have Ed's (probably well intentioned) but evasive, non-apology. He does an 'I'm sorry you feel that way' sort of apology about 'whatever that bad stuff was'. It's a wish to do better, but it doesn't really cover what went before. A lot of people interject here, but Izzy remains completely still and silent, off to one side.

Lucius says he never used the word 'sorry' and rightly calls this out. Roach however, says he's never heard an apology before - and liked it - so this seems like as much as it's a first for Ed to take even some accountability, it's probably the first time some of the crew have seen a captain (or anyone else) do this too.

Archie says 'They just get away with it and we move on'.

Lucius rounds on Izzy, because obviously Izzy should have the biggest grievance here. But Izzy responds to the question about Ed's apology as if it was about piracy in general - clearly showing that the cycle of abuse is a feature, not a bug. This is part of his life and identity as a pirate. This is, actually, things going back to normal. You get whipped (and we see these scars on him later) no one apologises, and you just reset to how it was before, pretending nothing has been altered until it all bubbles over again.

Ed then tells stede that he's never apologised for anything. Confirming that most of the crew's responses are in line with their past experiences.

Then Ed goes to fix the door and tells it that it's not its fault that it's broken, it was just doing it's job. This directly parallels Izzy's rant to the figurehead about it failing to do it's job. Ed could be talking about himself here, as Izzy was talking about himself - but to me it doesn't fit that well, because what 'job' was Ed trying to do? He could instead be acknowledging, indirectly, that he is aware that Izzy was doing his job - trying to make sure they all survived and functioned as a crew. Ed probably broke that door, and he broke Izzy. But he has yet to talk to him about it.

Immediately following this, is when he scares the BEJESUS out of Lucius and tells him 'it would be faster to get all this out in one go'. It sounds like a reasonable suggestion, but we know that it doesn't actually work. Lucius pushes him off the boat and it doesn't help. Because 'I hurt you, so now you hurt me' doesn't benefit the abused, it's still about making the abuser feel better - making them feel punished and therefore redeemed, even when their victim isn't healed. I don't think Ed is trying to manipulate Lucius here - both of them think it might help to 'fix things' but fixing things takes emotional intelligence that's not really developed yet.

ENTER, THE SHARK

Izzy starts working on the shark, after the non-apology. He doesn't have it in the 'candle fighting' scene obvs - but he does receive an apology in that scene, when stede says 'feet' and then corrects himself to foot. It's a simple straightforward apology, even if he does sort of laugh awkwardly. Izzy also at least attempted to apologise to Stede in ep. 3 - so he clearly sees the use in apologies - AND right after the apology, Izzy agrees to help stede. Their relationship changes. It gets better and they're no longer stuck in those old patterns. Izzy is full-on gentle parenting stede - even when he shoots down a fucking sail.

He also, notably, states that the crew's feelings on the curse are important. Meaning, how the crew feels is important to him, period.

After this, we're back to Lucius throwing Ed overboard. But it doesn't work because Ed doesn't remember the talent show thing, he doesn't really know why Lucius was so blindsided by that betrayal of trust. It's not about who goes overboard. It's about the dynamics underneath that and those can't be fixed by just trading places for a moment.

FINALLY. We see Izzy finishing the shark, and he's completely unsurprised that Lucius pushing Ed into the water didn't fix things. Izzy's done this 'tit for tat' thing - betraying Ed to the English over being banished - and it ended terribly for both of them. It escalated things. He knows it's not as simply as getting even with someone.

The solution Izzy has chosen to the cycle of his relationship with Ed is to pretend that Ed hasn't done anything to him. A shark did it. Like with the non-apology, blame is being shifted to a third party 'the bad things' the 'bad times'. Lucius (rightly) points out that this is not healthy, but Izzy's response, that's better than not moving on, clearly resonates.

Izzy's response to being hurt was to 1. Get even and 2. (when that proved deeply unsatisfying and made things worse) to put the unresolved conflict behind him. Because he doesn't think Ed is ever going to apologise or change, and wanting those things just hurt more.

Anyone who has parents/a partner/friend who's NEVER apologised for anything, knows how he's feeling. You stop trying to have it out and fix the relationship, and it starts to wither, even though the other person thinks it's healthy.

'Not moving on is worse' is a warning, and it's one that Lucius takes to heart, immediately trying to centre positive things instead of resentment and anger. He shares his feelings with Pete, and their relationship thrives.

The issue here, is that denial doesn't work. Lucius might be able to move on from what happened to him without a proper apology from Ed, but that's because he's not in a relationship with him. Izzy's the one who's really in it with Ed - he's had DECADES of this shit. That can't be willed away.

Stede's resolution to the curse conflict models a healthier method and one that I'm hoping we see in a future episode between Ed/Izzy. He validates the crew's feelings, make a sacrifice (the suit) and TOGETHER they collaborate on a solution to the issue that is mutually satisfactory - he even gets to keep the shirt, as a sort of compromise. It isn't about just making stede or the crew feel better, it's about moving on together.

This happens with Ed and Fang! Ed actually apologises once he realises what, specifically he did wrong. Fang says they're 'sweet' because he beat Ed to death (oof) which outwardly seems like retaliation working - but there has also been an actual apology and Fang wasn't retaliating against Ed, he was standing up for himself - a physical version of saying 'that wasn't OK - you need to change'.

This method of resolution is echoed in the final scene, with stede and ed. They reach an understanding about the pace of their relationship and find a happy medium (holding hands) - mutually satisfied and moving forwards.

Bottom line? I hope we see 1. Ed actually apologise to Izzy and 2. the pair of them outline what it is they want to change in their relationship moving forward, ending the cycle for good.

Thank you for coming to my Ed talk.

#ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #izzy hands #edward teach #lucius spriggs #sprigghands #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #blackhands #edizzy #israel hands #thank you for coming to my ed talk

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bunnyreaper · 7 months

Text

welcome to the 141

kinktober 3 - bukkake, hate sex

price + ghost x reader

(18+/mdni, noncon, misogyny, no but seriously... misogyny, degradation)

Real men belong in the 141, real women belong on their knees.

That's what your arsehole friend had joked when you told him about your intention to transfer, but you were determined to prove him and everyone else wrong. You'd gotten this far, and you could make it just that little bit further.

You sit in the gym, anxiously waiting for Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley to arrive and begin a physical assessment with you—their reputations precede them, and you want nothing more than to impress them, so they have no choice but to accept you into the task force.

The squeak of the door pulls you out of your thoughts, redirecting your attention to the two behemoth men who have just walked through the door—all bulging muscles barely contained in tight-fitting compression shirts. The way you rise to your feet is sheer instinct, as you rush into a greeting that is swiftly cut off.

Captain Price walks with a swagger, and stops at the side of the mat in the middle—he beckons you forward wordlessly, as Ghost steps forward to meet you in the middle of the mat.

"So you're the girl that wants to try out for the 141?" The captain asks, and you internally bristle at his use of such a diminutive word, but you decide to push down your protests as you decide to ignore it.

You nod eagerly. "That's me, captain."

He smirks, his face twisting with sick amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes crawl over your body. "It's not going to be easy, last chance to back out."

The taunt only makes you more determined. "Thanks, but no thanks."

He and the Lieutenant share a look, one you can't really perceive the meaning of, but you know whatever comes next is going to be the biggest challenge of your career.

"We'll start with a sparring session, you can show the Lieutenant what you're made of."

You nod obediently, turning to Ghost as the two of you start to square up and prepare to spar. He doesn't say a word, and neither do you, as you quietly appraise him and figure out how to use his massive stature against him.

The tension is thick, each second crawling by as you breathe in and hyperfocus before making your first move.

You barely get a grip on him before he's slamming you into the mat, limbs pinning you down with ease as you fight to suck down your breaths. "Fuck."

"Impressive." He mutters, tone completely dry.

The whole situation makes your temper flare, as you can feel them already underestimating you, can practically taste their misogynistic attitudes in the air. You struggle against Ghost's hold, still unable to grapple free. "Let me go again, I wasn't ready." You rush out an excuse, yet you're determined to not let him get the better of you a second time.

The Captain's voice cuts in, heavy with judgement and condescension. "You think out in the field they'll be waiting for you to be ready, soldier?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "Dumber than I thought, clearly."

Each word stokes the fire inside you, makes you more and more desperate to prove yourself. Your chest heaves as your anger and determination escalate. "Just let me try again, please."

Ghost looks to his Captain, who nods in approval before Ghost moves away and allows you to climb to your feet once more.

Again, you both prepare, staring each other down. This time, you know a little of his tactics, of his plan to rush you and overwhelm you with his bulk, and your mind switches to executing more evasive maneuvers.

You wait patiently for Ghost to make the first move, which you dodge with ease, you just make it out of his reach when he's rushing for you again, anticipating your dodge and sending you flying into the mat once more.

You're not sure what burns more between the pain in your back and the humiliation you feel, but Ghost is on top of you, pinning you again. His hands are on your wrists as his hips are pushed into your core, and you can feel that the bastard is fucking hard. No amount of thrashing throws him off of you.

"Same result. Stop struggling." He growls, voice deep and menacing and impatient, as he grinds down and keeps you firmly in place.

"See this is the thing about little girls like you." Each word is snarled, sheer aggression unfolding from behind the mask. "You think you can make it a man's world, in the army, but you can't."

"I can, women can." You whimper, voice frayed with pain as the lieutenant's grip tightens.

You hear the dull thud of the Captain's footsteps as he moves into your line of sight and stares down at you.

"Go on then, break free." He commands, watching as you squirm fruitlessly, and a predatory smile crosses his face. "Pathetic, darling."

Price gives Ghost another look, as he frees you once more, and you stumble to your feet red-faced and mortified.

"Captain—" You're about to challenge him, about to call him out on all of this sexist bullshit when his hands come to your shoulders, forcing you to your knees once more.

"You can tell me all your precious feminist thoughts while you're down on your knees." He scoffs, working on unbuckling his belt right before your shocked face.

Ghost does the same, belt clinking as the two men work to free their erections—you try to stand, but their hands keep you pinned before them, kneeling and waiting.

"I'm not gonna do whatever you think you're asking!" You squeal as their thick cocks bounce free and taunt you with their appearance.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling you to put that mouth to use instead of opening it for your pointless protests." The Captain begins, his hand working over his length slowly." "You want in the 141? Know your place, on your knees and serving your superior officers, as a woman should."

Ghost does the same, gloved hand working his length dangerously close to your face. "That look in your eyes tells me everything we need to know. Strong, independent woman until you see a nice hard cock."

"That's not true, I—" You open your mouth to protest, but find it stuffed full of the Captain's dick—his salty precum coating your tongue as he works his way inside.

You suck on instinct, and of a creeping sense of fear of what will happen if you don't. They've gone this far, maybe it's just hazing, maybe this is how you—

The Captain takes hold of your ponytail, pulling you up and down his length leisurely. "Much better, good girl."

The words make you flush against your will, your body betraying your usually headstrong self.

He thrusts his cock as deep as you can take it without gagging, stilling there for a moment. "I'll break you in properly before long. Keep you under my desk, yeah, love?"

The noise of rejection you make with your mouth full sounds awfully like approval to the men's ears.

Ghost reaches down to grab your hand, wrapping your smaller fingers around his cock as you continue to suck the captain, while he taunts you. "This is your natural state, brain off, mouth full of dick. You don't have to pretend to be strong with us, it's better for all of us this way."

Price groans, deep and chesty in a way that makes your body sing against your will. "Always in need of some stress relief after a mission, you'd be perfect." He sighs, continuing to guide you up and down him.

He pulls you off of him, guiding your head towards Ghost's length so you can swallow him instead. Ghost's hands hold either side of your head, working his cock inside before he thrusts with reckless abandon. "Fuck. If you weren't made to suck then why are you so fucking good at it, huh?" He all but growls, continuing to use your face as nothing more than a little fuckhole.

He's rougher than Price, moves you faster up and down his cock, and forces himself deeper into your throat, your gagging sounds filling the room. "That's what I like to hear."

"What do you think, Ghost?" The captain asks.

"Need to make sure she knows her place." Ghost snarls, pulling you off of him harshly before forcing your head down to the floor, down to his boot. "Kiss it, then you can hump it like the desperate little slut you are."

"I'm not—" You whine, but he's tilting up his but to meet your mouth, so you can start to worship the leather.

Tears prickle at your eyes as you lick and kiss his boot, desperately hoping the act will please him.

"You're a cunt, you're just a set of needy holes." He pulls you back up by the chin, repositioning you so your clit is pressed against his foot, and you start grinding down on instinct.

"You deny it love, but look at the way you move those hips, it just comes naturally to you." Price laughs, his eyes blown with arousal.

You hate it—hate what they're doing and what they've reduced you to, but at the same time you're so fucking needy, and Ghost is at least giving you some semblance of relief.

"Grinding on my boot like a pathetic little doll. Don't make a mess, or you'll be cleaning it with your mouth."

You want to cry out and rebuke them, but as your mouth opens, nothing comes out.

"Shhh." Price coos, bringing up your hands to each of the man's dicks. "Just focus on us, darling."

Your doe eyes stare at them desperately, as you do the only thing you can, jerk their cocks with fervor and chase the shocks of pleasure you get from rubbing against Ghost. You're so lost, so reduced, and yet unable to stop.

The volume of both men's groans increases, as they urge you into stroking faster and faster—it isn't long before they're both crashing toward the edge.

"Paint her face, Simon." Price commands his Lieutenant, who takes hold of his cock and rubs until he's spilling fresh, sticky cum all over your face—in your lashes, on your lips and cheeks, even a little in your hair.

The sight is enough to send Price over the edge too, his ropes joining Ghost's as they both cover your face entirely in rope after rope of cum.

"New fucking uniform for you." Ghost chuckles, slightly breathless, as he milks his cock for any remaining drops to stain your face with.

"Look at that." The look in Price's eyes is almost sweet, as he tilts up your chin to inspect your painted face. "Good job. Welcome to the 141, princess."

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catiuskaa · 8 months

Text

audio creak file.mp3 [1:07]

PAIRING! pervy?Chan x roomate!reader

SUMMARY: Chan struggles to make music, and you, his friend and roommate, try to help him when you can. Say, Chan also struggles to keep his cool whenever you’re near… what will you do to help him feel better?

WC: 3.2k

CW: convenient minsung because I say so, angsty(?) (reader is just kinda dense and Minho screams the truth to her), smut: mentions of soft dom!chan, mentions of panty stealing, Chan’s a pervy simp (he’s just soooo down bad), and I just really got carried away writing on my notes thinking about when Channie smiles hearing the creaks in heyday...

A/N: basically, if being inocent was a crime, i’d be imprisioned for tax evasion, lmao. kinda perv!chan thoughts to soothe the iching that the mosquito bites give. have fun!

[☆☆★☆☆]

He let out a frustrated groan, fingers digging into his curly locks in a sign of desperation. He had listened to every single audio sample Changbin had found. Twice. But no, nothing screamed “This is it” to his perfectionist self. And it was getting him fucking desperate.

He wasn’t wearing headphones because of the company he had been with not too long ago since Changbin and Han tried to help him —keyword: try—, and also knowing that you wouldn’t be home for a while meant that there was no one he could disturb, the sounds coming from his laptop not nearly loud enough to reach to the neighbours. He scrolled down the same folders again, wondering when you would be home in the back of his mind.

You and Chan had been roommates for a bunch of years now. You two had met at Han’s birthday party thanks to Minho, as he introduced you, one of the first people he had ever danced with and even won competitions with to the leader of the Korean boyband.

You clicked almost instantly, sharing anecdotes from each side of the industry. He, a famous idol, and you, a backup dancer for many groups in different companies.

It was unknown to both of you that Han and his cat-like soulmate had tried to matchmake you that day, as you just stayed like close friends. Minho laughed at Jisung as they both returned from your shared apartment the day you moved in, like two years after. Now that you’d split the rent, considering neither of you spent that much time home to pay a large amount, you paired up.

“At least they like each other, silly,” he mentioned, his tone of voice sounding soft, a smug smile on his face. He was so winning the bet.

“Nooo!” Han whined, much like a toddler would when toys were taken away. “Those two are meant to be, Hyung. They are literally each other’s type!”

“Well, I don’t think they’ve noticed,” he chuckled, thinking about what he would buy with the ten bucks Han would owe him. And Minho would’ve been right.

But then, the sex dreams started.

“Chan, I’m back!”

He blushed, quickly shoving those thoughts into a bottomless pit in his mind.

“How you doin’?” You grinned, your head popping inside his room, leaving your bag on your own, next to his, before coming back and leaning on the door frame.

Your wet hair made the top of your summer dress fabric somewhat sheer, his eyes trailing your figure before clearing his throat.

“I’m stuck,” he admitted, dimples on display as he smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve been looking for a sample I thought existed, but maybe I just made it up in my head.”

“That does sound like shit,” you mentioned, leaning down just enough to rest your forearms on the back of his chair. He felt tiny droplets falling from your hair onto his shoulders and back, making goosebumps trail all over his body.

“But how… how was the… the swimming pool?” He quivered, trying to hide the flustered quiver in his voice. And failing, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“It was good! It felt sooo nice.” You stretched, whining as you extended your arms, making a mess in Chan’s head, who struggled to hide it. “I’ll go get changed, and then I can help you. Sounds ok?”

“Yeah.” He leaned into your touch when you ruffled his hair, leaving his room.

He sighed as he rested on the back of the chair, arms thrown over his eyes, and swallowed dry. He felt like such a perv, his insides churning and turning whenever you were near, making him feel like a horny teenager.

It all started one night when he woke up in a sweat, hard-on nearly hurting underneath his boxers. Pictures of you still reeling in his mind, legs wide open for him, eyes pleading, begging for release.

Then, two nights after, dreaming about your body pressed on top of him as you straddled him, clenching on him, fighting for dominance in a sloppy kiss.

Later that week, you in that cute summer dress you bought with him, letting him fuck you and manhandle you in his car, the apartment too far, and your bodies too horny that the drive home felt impossible.

Seeing you every day with those thoughts in mind was difficult, sometimes having to escape your sight so you wouldn’t see him getting hard just by you doing the slightest things that weirdly turned him on.

“The one you dream about is back,” you teased, now wearing an oversized shirt and a towel over your shoulders. He gulped as he looked at you, not only for what you had said unknowingly but also because of your shirt, long enough to cover your thighs, giving the illusion that you were almost naked. In his room. Sitting crisscrossed. On his bed.

He felt blood on his cheeks and some running down, headed south. He giggled halfheartedly, the sentence ‘don’t get hard’ echoing in his head.

After playing the samples again, tricking himself into thinking he might have skipped one just so he would keep searching, he started getting frustrated again. But nuh-uh. Nothing.

“Ok, this is trash,” you blurted out.

With a smile on your face, before he could even ask you what was wrong, you grabbed his chair from behind, pushing him far from the computer, saving the files and then closed it with a slap.

“Break time, Mr Producer. We both need a coffee.” He snickered, shaking his head sideways as you both went to the kitchen.

“Can’t say no to that, can I?”

You laughed. “No. Too late, anyways.”

He started getting the milk from the fridge, pouring it on the mugs you handed him, and settling them in the microwave, a small smile on his features accenting his dimples.

“Audio sample related, can’t you just make your own?” You asked Chan, not entirely curious, question directed to find a solution for his issue rather than learning that piece of info.

“I mean, yeah, sure, but it’s simpler this way,” he shrugged, eyes confused about where to look, not daring to stare at you for too long. “If not, I just have to keep recording random stuff, hoping to find something that sounds like what I want.”

“Isn’t that easier? Not like it’s something you can brag about, but there’s a ton of creaking shit in this place,” you pointed out thoughtfully. “Like… that!”

In the blink of an eye, you crossed your way until you were directly in front of Chan, and you turned around, leaning on the counter before you as you opened and closed the cabinet's door on the wall.

“See? It creaks,” you said from above your shoulder.

But just when you stood back on your feet, you realised how close you were to each other. And it hadn’t helped that when you leaned towards the cabinet, your shirt had followed along with your body, letting Chan see your lack of pyjama pants, instead being welcomed by some cute cotton panties. Ones he knew well because, uhm… he uh… may have used them for a wrong purpose.

Yeah, fuck, he had come on those.

You hadn’t realised how little space had been between him and the counter and attributed that to your head, not knowing that Chan had unconsciously moved towards you, like metal to a magnet. You wiggled on your place, your personal space suddenly far away from you, caged in Chan’s presence. He stopped your tiny motion by gripping your waist, letting out a gasp, blushing. He turned you around so you wouldn’t feel his hardening cock on your upper thighs.

When you both locked eyes on the contrary, the tense atmosphere shot up, turning even thicker when he rested his arms on the counter, at your sides, thumbs casually stroking short lines on your waist.

No words were said as you got lost in his brown eyes, deep chocolate-coloured orbs, not needing any kind of golden or honey stripes on them as they drew you in, gorgeous eyes so raven that it was hard to distinguish where the iris was. Then, your eyes trailed off at his mouth, your breath hitched, rose-coloured plush lips so enticing. He licked them, and you swore you heard him swallow dry.

You pressed your body on him, getting closer and closer, and suddenly, he let out a small whimper. The sound made you shiver, heat pooling in your lower belly. He blushed furiously, not daring to move from his place. You could feel it, feel him.

The sound of your phone chiming in your room made you both aware of the situation —and position— you were in. You got shy, quickly letting him have his personal space back, both of you missing the other’s warmth on your skin as you blurted out something that sounded like “gotta go walk my fish” as you run to your room, slamming the door close, frowning as soon as you were alone.

“Fuck.” Both of you said at the same time, having the same thoughts.

“I fucked up.” Chan stared at the hot mugs on the counter, both waiting for someone who had run away.

[☆☆★☆☆]

“He’s just scared, girl,” Han said through the phone after letting you ramble and blurt about what had happened barely twenty minutes ago. “I promise, if you make him feel safe, like he won’t lose you, he’ll melt on your hands.”

"...I don't think so," you mumbled, picking on your nails.

"You called me because he got hard," he sighed, not bringing his statement to a conclusion just because it was so painfully obvious. "I know you're the only one who thinks otherwise."

You were about to reply with a snarky comment about how he should just 'stick simping about Minho' when you started to hear said man speaking to Jisung, and then with all the calm in the world, ignored him when he went straight to the phone.

"...Minho?"

"Leave my boyfriend alone and go fetch yours," he replied as you heard Han groan in the back. It was almost as if you could feel him deadpanning from the other side of the phone.

You frowned even if you had a smile on your features, not taking the comment completely seriously. "Ok, rude. What a meanie."

"Jokes aside." You heard him breathe in from the other side of the phone. Oh boy. "The interminable teasing and bickering between you and Chan were amusing at first, but it's getting very stale and surprise, fucker, you live together!" He paused, clicking his tongue. "So, why don't you two cut the bullshit and admit your sexual and non-sexual feelings for each other?"

"My what?!"

"This is getting old really quick, goddamnit." You could feel him getting worked up, not just because of his tone but because he kept ignoring Han, whose comments echoed at the back of the phone call.

But Minho was serious. He was not gonna get cockblocked for ten bucks. Not tonight.

"You're getting kinda off-base, buddy!"

"Oh, it's almost one o'clock, fucking spare me!" He grumbled, getting slightly angrier. "Yeah, I get it. It's Chan. He can be a dick sometimes because of his severe self-esteem issues and how he doesn't know how to communicate his feelings all that well. But I kinda think he reminds you about that other guy you dated in our dance team, who was an absolute son of a bitch, and we can agree that you deserve to be with someone who's not that complicated or whatever, but still, you can't get Chan out of your head, can you? Don't answer. We know it." He interrupted you, unable to speak as you were just getting bombarded with facts you didn't want to deal with.

"But you? I've known you for years, yet you're still being a dumbass. You're behaving like a baby who'd rather act tough than show her true feelings 'cause last time, you got hurt! Owie," he cooed, tone still angrily mocking. "And now you're just dancing around the other in this pathetic act you're tryna put up to hide your pent-up feelings, SO, AGAIN, for my sake, either deal with it and stop bitching my man about it, or get over with it already!"

"Minho, I-!" You turned silent as you heard a beeping sound coming from your phone.

He hung up.

You stared at the screen, eyes almost out of place, as you muted the device, letting it vibrate with the unread texts Jisung sent, apologising in every way he knew.

"A baby?" You muttered, the word almost sickening in your mouth. "I am not a baby!"

You laid back down on your bed, rolling on your sides, Minho's words echoing in your mind as you cursed under your breath. Almost unconsciously, you stood up, left your room and approached Chan's as if wanting to enter just to get his confirmation regarding his allegedly existing feelings for you.

He startled you when he closed his door, meeting you in the hallway, his eyes glued to yours as soon as he saw you.

"Oh. Hey." You mentioned awkwardly.

"Hey," he said, tensed-up shoulders visible due to the lack of sleeves on his shirt. "I just... uh..."

"I... wanted to say that, uh..."

"I am sorry if I... uh..."

"It's ok... I uh... don't... I mean... I know that you can't really uh... control... it?"

You could almost hear Minho's laugh in your mind.

"Right," he sighed. You smiled reassuringly, and he did the same in an uneasy stance.

"Right. I mean, for all I know, it could happen for whatever reason."

"I uh, kinda, I guess."

"But never mind. I uh... 'm glad we feel the same way."

You both smiled sheepishly and headed to your respective rooms.

Chan sighed, hurriedly getting back to bed, wishing to get weird ideas out of his mind, not bothering to check his computer again. He rolled in bed, hand anxiously travelling through his hair so frequently that it was starting to get greasy.

He frowned, passing his hands through his face, the scene in the kitchen crossing his mind again, his already weak excuse for not being so clearly attracted to you crumbling when he remembered the eagerness he thought he had seen in your eyes.

He stood up again and went to open the door just to go check, because what if he hadn't just made it up in his mind?

But then, he met you right in front of his room.

Before you could escape or come up with anything, he approached you and pecked your lips, feeling his heart skip ten beats when you pushed him away.

His eyes locked into yours, a sight of contentment leaving his lips as you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back in, smiling in the kiss. It heated very quickly, a sloppy kiss with all tongues and teeth, both fighting for dominance. You went to get the edge of his shirt, but instead, he gave you a light smack on your thighs, and you jumped, legs crossing around his waist, arms around his neck as he guided both of you into his room, closing the door with a kick.

The two of you breathed heavily, the air thick with anticipation and lust. He pinned you up against the closed door and kissed hard, feeling the heat rising as your bodies tightened against one another. Your tongues met, mingling in an intense way that drove you wild. You let out soft sounds of pleasure, suddenly changing sides, pulling him away just enough so you could have access to his neck, your teeth trailing from his jaw, trying to find a sensitive spot.

He whined, barely moving away, trying to calm himself down, the sudden blow of emotions too intense for him. He then panted, and you quickly went back to that spot you had found, nibbling on it. "What are we- fuck- what are we doing?"

You set a finger on his lips, your face going back to his. "Shhh. Let's just... enjoy it," you whispered, leaving a small chaste kiss at the corner of his lips, tempting him. You then flinched, moving away "Unless you don't want..."

He let out a groan, deep and enticing, hungrily going back to your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, your lips pressing firmly against his.

"No... I want you."

"And I want you too, Chris." You admitted, doe eyes trailing down to his lips, licking your own. "Now."

[☆☆★☆☆]

Your schedule had gotten filled up to the brim, chances of meeting Chan reserved for the ungodly hours of the night, which were used to get some well deserved sleep. Rehearsing over and over left your body exhausted, your mind clouded in the remaining work you had left, only the most sinful parts of it replaying the encounter that had happened barely three nights ago.

It was obvious that he was awake, the light in his room shining from underneath the door, knowning that he’d probably be working on his samples.

And he had tried, looking for one of the files he had recorded that delicious night. But something felt wrong. He frowned, looking at how long the audio was.

He played it before using it, at first just hearing random noises he was recording. Then he heard himself groaning, the sound of the bed sheets moving with his body, and then, after some loud steps, the door creaked open.

And those voices were you and him, that was no doubt. He blushed, the sound of the door slamming close getting his mind back to three nights ago.

“Ah, fuck, Chan!” You moaned through his headphones.

The bed creaked under both of you in rythmic beats, matching each thrust, your moans decorating the purple-lit room.

As both an idol and a producer, Chan had listened to many voices and samples for a long time, ears used to the constant stimulation, but the sound of your needy whines as he slowed down in hopes of not coming too soon made the task even more difficult.

“Don’t- ugh, fuck-,” he whined, hearing the heavy breathing through the recording. “Let me hear you, baby, please.”

Chan tried to pause the recording, a flustered mess, but instead accidentally unplugged his headphones, the sound of creaks and moans filling his room once again.

He paused it, mortified. Where you home? Fuck, he didn’t want you to think he was recording you in secret.

He turned around slowly when the door creaked open.

“What's going on here?” You walked in with an oversized top on, the cut of the sleeves made so that your body could be seen through the sides of the tank top.

“I-i uh…”

“Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Chan? Are you listening?” Changbin questioned, frowning.

“Uh?”

He remembered that he wasn’t inside his room, like the night before, your thighs straddling his, but in the studio, showing his friends the audio he had put together. He couldn’t help but smile and get lost in his thoughts when certain creaks came out.

“We like it,” Han repeated. “We can get to writting lyrics soon enough.”

Chan’s phone chimed next to him, his eyes trailing it with no thoughts to it.

Let’s have fun again tonight.

He bit his lip, turning his phone off.

“I’ll call it Heyday,” he mentioned to his friends, renaming the new audio file.

He’d keep the other one a secret.

[☆☆★☆☆]

[hard hours]

~Kats, who came up with this idea on the beach and has had it stuck in her head since day one.

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princessbrunette · 2 months

Note

i'd just like to say a violent jayj threatening to rip someone's face off or anything of that sort would make me wet. thank u. - 🍓

⊹ . ⁺ 🍦🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

you knew the random ass kook at the beach bar was in trouble the second he’d started talking to you.

jj had stepped away for a moment, just a moment — to take a call from john b, always feeling the need to answer just incase the boy had gotten himself into another inescapable shenanigan that he needed jj to dig him out of. you were leaning your elbows against the bar under the warm outdoor lighting, skin balmy and glowy as you take your time reading the menu stapled to the counter top, wondering what cocktail you’d go for.

“you seem like a cosmo kind of girl.” the kook slides up beside you, blinding white teeth and a polo shirt — the kook side of the islands very own uniform. you chuckle politely, diverting your eyes back to the menu attempting to kindly show your disinterest.

“oh, maybe.” you shrug evasively — hoping he’d get the hint and wander off to bother someone else. he didn’t.

“wait no, let me guess. something stronger? on second glance you kind of strike me as a party girl.” the man grins and you have to hold back a sigh. you were always on the shyer side unlike your boyfriend, never having the nerve to tell people to cut it out or leave you alone the way he would. jj tried to teach you, put his hands on your shoulders, look you in the eyes and say ‘if anyone ever bothers you, you look ‘em in the face and tell them that your boyfriend stays strapped. alright?’ of course, that didn’t seem appropriate. or like a good idea in general.

“nope.” your lips press together with a smile that begged him to leave you be, head even swivelling around theatrically to look for jj who had wandered off to take the call somewhere more quiet, now nowhere to be seen.

“c’mon, you think i don’t know your type? you seem all cold now, but get a couple of drinks in you and you’re ready to go. here, lemme get it for you.” he pulls out his card and nudges right up next to you, a hand sliding over your lower back. you shudder, pulling away— trying hard to be stern despite your shyness.

“really, i’m okay.” you frown, heart thundering when his expression drops, irritation reaching his eyes. he goes to speak, but a familiar voice immediately spawns from behind you.

“yeah i think she said she was okay, so you can walk away now.” jj shrugs, giving this guy a chance. the kooks eyes, narrow in on the blonde and scoffs, unimpressed.

“and who the hell are you? her knight in shining armor?” he glares, the malicious grin on jj’s face not faltering. from knowing jj, you knew this grin in itself was a threat. the calm before the storm. you brace for the chaos, moving back behind your boyfriend.

“try boyfriend, and i’m actually doin’ you a solid here brother. i really suggest you just walk away, right now.”

“or what?” the kook challenges, and jj’s venomous grin melted into merely having his teeth grit, bared like a dog as his patience runs thin.

“or i’ll rip your fuckin’ face off for talking to my girl. walk,” he shoves him back by the chest. “away, dude.” and once again, the man stumbling a little as a few eyes draw to the scene. locking stares with the security guard, the kook decides it’s better off he doesn’t get his ass beat, or get kicked out of the beach bar — so he trips over, walking away.

“you’re a psycho, pogue.” he accuses as he disappears and jj shakes himself off, blowing out an exhale as he turns back to you, fixing his hat.

“thats what i thought.” he rolls his shoulders before attending to you. “hey, i— i know you wanted just a chill night. i probably shouldn’t have caused a scene, just didn’t want him disrespecting my girl, you know?” his face falls, misreading the dazed expression on your face.

you glance around, looking for any remaining eyes on you and you move closer, whispering to him pathetically.

“i’m wet.” it comes out so quiet, he thinks he’s making it up.

“you’re — what now?” his head bobs forward in disbelief, eyes wide.

“i’m wet, jayj. take me home?” you mewl and he blinks a couple of times.

“from… that? me like… defending your honour n’shit?”

“yeah.” you giggle and a slow grin fades onto his once angry expression.

“oh you’re crazy. you’re my kind of crazy though — let’s go.” he grabs your hand, leading you briskly away.

⊹ . ⁺ 🍦🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

#🍓 anon #jj maybank prompt

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hectateovrhere · 1 year

Text

Soul, Body, and all

Pairing: Neteyam x male Metkayina reader, eldest son of Tonowari ( the chief)

Summary: you, the aloof eldest son to the chief, do ( your unexpected friend) Neteyam’s ceremonial paint and things get intimate.

A/N: idk how to write summarys but hopeful the story makes up for it this is more first time posting so hope y’all enjoy :) also I added “lore” just to make it more meaningful. Idk-

There was a comfortable silence that hung over you two. Neteyam sat infront of you his eyes catching every detail of your face. You didn’t know what to say and neither did he. An unspoken bond between you two. You were evasive and slippery you were loved but no one really knew you. The chiefs son was what you were and a great warrior; that’s all the reason your tribe needed to love you. You were adamant on keeping everyone at arms length; you weren’t interested in relationships, even with your siblings. No connections meant no feelings getting in the way of what you believed in. no one could have gotten this close to you but somehow he did.

You traced the structure of his face with white paint sharp and delicate at the same time; he stared as you focused. You place your hand on his shoulder as you got closer you grabbed the yellow paint and outlined his eyes with dots.

“What is the ceremony for?” Neteyam broke the silence

“It’s very spiritual… it allows you to be placed under eywas protection and our protection.” You fingers glided down his neck Neteyam gulped at your touch. “The paint is very important each style is different- they have a unique meaning each of us learn a different technique.”

“What does mine mean?” You pause for a moment coating your hand in pale green paint.

“Kind-hearted. A protector and protected.” You place your hand on his chest you feel his heart beating. “A special soul.” Your painted hand print was left on his chest Neteyam refused to utter a word as if they were jammed in his throat. The wind rushed past you with a whistle and the waves crashed to the shore in a musical pattern.

“Turn around.” You ordered softly now it was your turn to break the silence. He obeyed silently his strong back faced you. Coating your hands once again you place them on his shoulders pushing inward to his shoulder blades replicating that of wings. Your hands halted at his braid.

“Can I?

Neteyam nodded slowly you moved it to the side he shivered as you dotted the outline of his spine.

“The back represents freedom and your choice to look after those around you. A leader. People will follow you anywhere.”

“Will you?” The words slipped through Neteyam’s lips. He cringed at the way it came out like his body reacted on its own ignoring the brain and following his heart. It yearned for you. He failed to figure out how to express it to you and the looming possibility that you didn’t feel the same way terrified him. He couldn’t bare the thought of you slipping through his fingers.

Neteyam’s ears twitched at the way your hands paused. He prepared for the worst. What could you possibly think of an outcast?

“You want me to follow you forever?” You reiterated with a light chuckle; Neteyam flushed he knew it came out wrong. Of course he knew you had your duties you were the chiefs son; you made a promise to your people. He knew all about that; it was him once upon a time. It sounded like he wanted you to run away with him to drop everything and leave.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Neteyam whipped around catching you by surprise you took notice to the distance between you. The short distance you watch his pleading eyes you could tell he was struggling to find the right words to say.

“I want you by my side and I want to stay by yours.” He explained “you’re the only person that makes me feel okay with never going back home. I want to stay with you.”

“What are you saying?”

In that moment time stopped all you could feel were his soft lips on yours. you weren’t sure what to do you’ve never kissed anyone before- you’ve never been this close to someone before. Neteyam was struggling as well both of you unsure about what to do and how to continue but doing it anyway; eventually you got the hang of it syncing with his movements. You could feel his energy enter you, careful not to touch him with your painted hands you attempted to deepen the kiss you wanted to be closer.

Neteyam understood what you wanted and did it for you basically grabbing your head and pulling you towards him. An unfamiliar feeling erupted in your stomach is this what it felt like? To be kissed? You never thought you would experience it. You seen your parents kiss and other people your age do it;but it never interested you. Now you could see why everyone liked to do it; it was nice you felt connected to him like you could feel what he felt, his senses were yours and the world seemed to melt away.

When you both pulled away everything felt cold by the way Neteyam was looking at you he felt the same way.

“Do you understand what I mean now?” He questioned his voice was gentle. you placed your forehead on his; your eyesight being filled with his deep yellow eyes only. You saw him for who he was and all he could be; you saw his heart and mind, his internal battles and his responsibilities. You unraveled before him he saw you, he knew you and you felt free knowing someone finally understood you.

“Neteyam..” you trailed “I see you.”

His eyes widened at your confession “I see you too.”

Your lips met again you held each other delicately disregarding the paint on your hands. this time there was less of a struggle both of you had somewhat of an idea on how to do it; all that mattered was the way it made both of you feel. He caressed every inch of your skin like he had been waiting an eternity to do so. Every inch he followed as if to memorize your body; your skin burned where ever Neteyams wandering fingertips grazed; every touch felt like fire and you savoured every second of it.

Neteyam embraced your warmth accepting it into his body, he could feel your soul. He silently thanked Eywa for guiding him to you this was her plan all along.

He was the only one for you. There was no one else. He was worth losing everything over and you would die before you gave your heart to another. Though you were young; in your heart you knew Neteyam was yours. Soul, body, and all.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x male reader #avatar x you #avatar x male reader #avatar x reader #neteyam sully #lo’ak sully #jake sully #metkayina #metkayina reader #avatar 2 #neteyam x you

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year

Note

not even a trope but it’s my new favorite thing - buying shirts for aaron a size smaller than he buys for himself, just so you can admire the fit. and it’s funny because he’s onto you practically from the get go (c’mon, he’s a profiler). but you’re oblivious and still trying to be sneaky about it, subtly introducing new polos n button downs n quarter zips 🫠 to his closet, one at a time. how you could think he wouldn’t notice, he has no idea. your favorites of his, old, and of the new ones you bought, you’ll shift to the front of the closet, hoping they’ll catch his eye and he’ll wear one to work, around the house… until of course he confronts you about the evasive and mysterious closet elf who’s been rearranging his clothes and leaving him new ones, including ties that you think he’d look so handsome in and that you’d love for him to tie you up with 😩😵‍💫

would love if you’d maybe write this bestie? <33 mwuah no worries if not, hope you’re well :’)) and that maybe you feel better rested

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 sos aaron in a tight shirt i'm feeling faint

guilty pleasure

cw: none! maybe some very light suggestive content if you squint

"sweetheart?" you heard aaron say, causing you to hum in response. the two of you were collectively getting ready to head to the office; you were slipping a pair of slacks on, while he was standing in your shared walk-in closet.

"have you seen my one blue- "

"nope." you interrupted him as you replied, being sure not to meet his eyes; a guaranteed dead giveaway if you did.

a few weeks ago, one of aaron's button-ups had managed to accidentally make its way into the dryer, causing it to shrink. in a rush to leave the house, he had no choice but to throw it on, and it had been life altering. it enunciated everything; the tighter fit allowed his chest to look immensely more prominent, his biceps were easily more visible, flexing as he moved about, the tighter cuffs made his hands look even larger if it were possible. it was almost see through as well, due to the fact he hadn't been wearing an under shirt.

rightfully so, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him for the entirety of the day; distracted couldn't begin to describe it. while aaron was attractive with, or without, anything, this, was a different story.

as a result of your new, beloved guilty pleasure and wanting to witness it more frequently, you had no choice but to begin your own collection of shirts for him. while shopping, you purposely bought button ups, polos, even a duplicate of his favorite quarterzip a size smaller; things you knew he would look handsome in for your benefit. not only that, you had started replacing his other shirts; hiding them in the back of the closet with the newer ones up front, for easier access in hopes of seeing them on him. and it was working. he wore one every so often, but not without making the comment that it felt more snug than usual.

"you have plenty right there, wear one of those. if you don't hurry, you'll make us late." hopefully, he took the bait.

however, aaron was aaron; he profiled for a living, and if anyone could tell if you were up to no good, it would be him. so it was partially no surprise he had caught onto to your antics. "you would like that, wouldn't you?"

"what?" his teasing words prompted you to finally met his eyes.

"you're not very subtle, sweetheart." a laugh rumpled through his chest, an eyebrow quirking up in amusement. "you think i haven't noticed?"

"i have no clue what you're talking about." you shrugged your shoulders and bit your lip to refrain from smiling. you made your way towards him, grabbing onto one of the shirts yourself. "how about this one?"

aaron's eyes scanned the light grey button up as you held it up, which of course, was seemingly a size smaller, "it's nice. i don't think i've even seen that one before, actually."

"really?" you feigned surprise, but you knew, especially with his current expression, you were absolutely caught. "you've had this for ages, babe."

"is that so?" he headed further into the closet, soon finding the shirt he had inquired for a moment ago. "that's strange, how'd this manage to get all the way back here?"

"that's so weird." you agreed as furrowed your eyebrows, making a play at being convincing. "you probably, uh, pushed it back there. unknowingly or something."

"yeah, probably." aaron held his stare with you, but it didn't take long before a smile broke out on his face. "you know, if you want me to wear something specifically, all you have to do is ask, darling."

you attempted to hide the smile on your face, but you surrendered, there was no use at this point. "again, i don't know what you're talking about."

"mhm, sure you don't." aaron laughed softly. "but don't worry, i'll indulge you." he rehung the shirt, gesturing for you to hand the one in your grasp over, "c'mon, like you said, we're going to be late."

without a second thought you tossed it over, a pleased expression on your face. "you're so hot."

"whatever you say," he teasingly rolled his eyes, before looking at you with a fondness in his eyes. "so... are you going to pick me out a tie as well?"

#s10 aaron was on my mind for this one hehe <3 #i’m gonna start titling these to help with navigation #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagines #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

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jangofettjamz · 5 months

Text

Bullies

Tara Carpenter x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: Your crush, Tara Carpenter, saves you from your bully.

Words: 1630

Y/N POV

Another day, another lecture. Our film studies class is filled with aspiring film directors, snotty film students who think they're better than everyone else because of their "elevated taste in movies" and then there's film nerds like me and a few others I know.

There's Mindy and Chad Meeks-Martin, nephews of their late uncle, Randy Meeks. We became friends not long after they came here. They recently came to New York from Woodsboro after an incident involving a couple who tried to create a movie that would revive the long dead horror franchise: Stab. Nuts I know.

Among Chad and Mindy was someone I found to be astoundingly beautiful, as if created by the gods themselves, Tara Carpenter. I've had a crush on this girl since I first laid my eyes on her. She's truly beautiful in every way, though I don't think she'd ever go for a guy like me.

Everytime I've had the chance to speak to her she's always been incredibly welcoming and really nice, she even got ice cream with me one time.

She never talks about what happened back in Woodsboro, but I never pry for answers which she appreciated alot, I can't imagine your best friend trying to kill you over a stupid movie.

I haven't told her that I have autism, and I don't know if I can. Everyone that I have ever known has been turned away from me after I tell them about my condition, I doubt she would be any different, even if she is very nice to me.

My bullies knew about it though, I don't know how but they definitely knew and they constantly mock me for it calling me "freak" or "spaz" just to name a few.

The lecture went on for what seemed like hours; my eyelids slowly closing to pull me into the comforting darkness of sleep. Unfortunately, that was interrupted when I felt a spitball hit the back of my neck from one of the boys in the back with his group of friends laughing alongside him: my bullies.

I sighed, this unfortunately, was the the norm for me here, the laughing stock of the college, the weirdo who can't talk to anyone because he's to shy to make friends. I was an outcast to everyone, and those boys sure took advantage of that.

I was about to try and move, but not after I noticed Tara staring down the boy who shot his spit at me, the fire in her eyes resembled that of Scorpion from Mortal Kombat, I was half expecting her to throw a kunai at the boy and shout "GET OVER HERE!!!" but that's just my imagination running wild, as usual.

The boy immediately sat down and shut up after that, not gonna lie I would too, I don't think I've ever seen her so upset.

The bell rang indicating that class was finished, I immediately scurried out of there to try and avoid those boys as quickly as possible, evasion was a specialty of mine after being bullied so much. I ignored everything the lecturer told us and swiftly made my way to the corridors.

I walked through the corridors holding my notes securely in my arms, the judging states by some of the students not going unnoticed by me. I decided that keep my head low would be the best course of action to avoid any potential trouble from one of the students; walking faster to get to get out of here as hastily as possible.

I found the door to the door outside, my fingers grazed the handle but then... "HEY FREAKSHOW!" I heard behind me, the sound that emanated from his shout echoed across the corridor, bouncing across their walls.

He walks towards me with aggression "Jackson..." I say quietly, not wanting to escalate the situation further, though that was inevitable.

He grabbed me by the collar, "You think you can just embarrass me infront of Tara like that?" I looked at him with confusion. I had enough of his shit

"Embarrass you? You embarrassed yourself when you decided to spitball me, I mean c'mon Jackson what is this, 1986? Besides i highly doubt she's into you anyways." I don't know where this confidence came from but it was immediately gone when I felt immense pain on the right side of my face from, what I can only assume, a punch.

I stumbled back and fell flat on my ass, another punch came soon after, and then another, and then another. Seven punches we're thrown my way, my vision was blurry and I could barely feel my face, I saw a faint figure wearing pink coming towards us.

Tara POV

"JACKSON" I shouted, he stopped immediately and looked at me. "What do you think you're doing beating him up like that, have you no sense of shame for what you're doing?" He looked at me confused, as though he thought I'd appreciate this.

"I'm just showing Y/N here why I'm better than him and proving why I'm the perfect man for you Tara." He winked at me, he actually winked at me, gross.

I slapped him in the face infornt of everyone then kicked him in the balls, a barrage of laughter erupted from the corridor leaving his friends speechless and him curled up on the floor in pain holding his balls. I knelt down to him and whispered in his ear.

"If you ever come near Y/N again, you're dead. Do you understand me?" No answer came, only pained whimpers. "I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!" I shout. "Yes yes, please don't hurt me I'm sorry!" He cried, what a pathetic excuse for a human being, beating on someone for being 'weak' then behaving like this when someone stands up to him.

"Get the fuck out of here Jackson, and your friends" he ran away holding his balls, his friends following behind him; cowards, all of them. My attention turned to Y/N, who was pretty banged up from Jackson. He was crying and curled up in a ball, all eyes were on him but no one dared to make fun of him, not after what just happened to Jackson.

I kneel down to his level and console him, he thrashed my arms away thinking it was Jackson. "Shhhh it's okay Y/N, it's me Tara. It's okay now, everything's gonna be okay." I cooed softly in a calming tone. He opened his eyes and met my gentle brown ones.

I opened my arms for him "c'mere sweetheart" he threw himself into my arms and cried into my shoulder, poor baby. I've always had a crush on him and seeing him this upset broke my heart. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?" He nodded into my shoulder and I walked him out of the corridor; away from everyone's prying eyes.

Once we were outside I sat him down with me on a bench, still holding him close. "It's okay Y/N, it's just you and me now. Are you okay?" He shook his head, he was just pummeled in the face of course he's not okay, stupid question Tara.

"Why does he hate you so much, sweetie?" I ask, genuinely curious as to how someone could hate this magnificent boy. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Um... I have autism." He says, averting his eyes away from me as if I'd hate him for it.

"Is that it? That's why he bullies you?" I ask and he nods, what a piece of shit, to hate someone because they were born with a condition, and he thought I'd date him. He begins to cry again

"Please don't hate me, you're really nice to me and one of the only people who treat me with any kind of respect, I don't want to be bullied anymore!" He sobbed out, I held him tight against my chest which became wet with his tears but I couldn't care less about that.

He was shaking in my arms, those boys really tormented him. "Oh honey, I could never hate you for that. In fact, I've had the biggest crush on you since we met, you're so smart and sweet, you're so passionate about the things you like, you're so kind to everyone. Mindy's been bugging me to ask you out for the longest time."

He pulls back and looks at me utterly confused. "Really? You like me?" I reassure him "

I like you very much sweetie, and I'm honored that you told me about your autism, that's not an honor I take lightly." He smiled brightly, blush spreading across his cheeks. "There's that beautiful smile" I cooed.

"I've had a crush on you since we had ice cream together, you're very beautiful Tara." He said, now making me blush.

"Can I kiss your cheek sweetie?" I ask, not knowing whether he's comfortable or not. He nods and I plant a gentle kiss to both his cheeks, his smile could light up an entire city.

I wipe away the rest of his tears and hug him tightly again. "You're mine now Y/N, and I'm yours. You're safe now honey, no one will harm you ever again." I kiss his forehead and rock him gently in my arms.

"Thank you, Tara." He says quietly, he's been through hell and I'm glad I pulled him out of it.

"Don't thank me baby boy, you deserve to have peace. Just rest now, sweet boy. I've got you, everything's gonna be okay" I whisper, holding him closely, listening to the birds chirp as I rock him while sitting on the bench. After Woodsboro and what happened with Ritchies family a few weeks ago, I thought my life was gonna be bleak and miserable...

Turns out I was wrong.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #male reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you

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whyse7vn · 5 months

Text

JEON JUNGKOOK

RANDOM 01:

!gc jungkook who is probably the most sensitive man you will ever meet. could literally cry about the thought of ants being stepped on there really has not been a day were jungkook has not cried over the smallest inconvenience or the stupidest scenario you could imagine

!gc jungkook who can and will make every single conversation he has about you

!gc jungkook who is the most affectionate member his favoured love language being psychical touch

!gc jungkook who was aware he could be “too much” (no pun intended hehe) told to him by many friends and exes

!gc jungkook who despite being the clingiest man alive now wasn’t always this way

!gc jungkook who a few years back was actually known as the quietest among your friendship group

!gc jungkook who made it his life mission to NEVER allow his members to see or experience the “overbearing” side of him

!gc jungkook who had never quite broken down the way he did when all his members sat him down one night and asked if he even liked working alongside them

!gc jungkook who the proceeded to speak about all his fears and insecurities sobbing into his hands (and namjoons shoulder) embarrassed out of his mind

!gc jungkook who had sobbed for the second time that night after the words “let us love you kook please stop holding back” left your mouth

!gc jungkook whose world seemed to shift after that

!gc jungkook who aged 21 moved into his first apartment with you actually throwing up at the thought of not being able to see you 24 hours a day

!gc jungkook who had to have his card taken away from him because he has no sense of saving and easily falls for the stupidest scams

!gc jungkook who without a doubt if asked (normally you don’t even have to ask) will fully admit that he is so deeply in love with you it causes him physical pain

!gc jungkook could actually die at the mere thought of you speaking to another man

!gc jungkook who lacks so much common sense it’s actually a miracle he’s still alive today

!gc jungkook who was convinced him and namjoon were related for 3 years cuz you joked about it one time for like 5 seconds and he fully believed it because everything you say is a fact and you would never lie to him

!gc jungkook who for some weird reason always carries a one dollar bill in his pocket

!gc jungkook who always sends each member a good night and good morning text

!gc jungkook who is the most strangely innocent (?) man you’ve ever crossed paths with despite the crazy crazy things that comes out of his mouth sometimes

!gc jungkook who is unintentionally sososo funny

!gc jungkook whose favourite thing is getting tucked into bed something about the gesture is so endearing to him makes him blush giggle and feel all warm inside (especially if it’s done by you)

!gc jungkook who watched bam almost kill pigeon one time in his garden and now refuses to look at or talk about pigeons ever again because he fears all pigeons may be plotting to get him when he’s lest expecting it for allowing one of their kind almost die WILL cry if someone even mentions the word pigeon

!gc jungkook who likes to bake cakes sometimes surprisingly he’s really good at it and lives for the little praises you give him when he does decide to bake

!gc jungkook who has a really strong fear of getting arrested for tax evasion for some reason??? like yeah namjoon helps him do all that stuff but what if one day joons feeling silly and makes him evade his taxes???? it’s a real fear and jk has it ok?!

!gc jungkook who believes with his whole heart that his members are the coolest people he’s ever met and everything any one of you does jk watches in complete awe and admiration

!gc jungkook who now unapologetically wears his heart on his sleeve

—

something while i try get my shit together 🤣🫰🏽😂🙏🏽

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

#bts crack #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts texts #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook × reader #jungkook x y/n #!gc jungkook #gc offline #jeon jungkook

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merakiui · 9 months

Note

the trapped in a room trope soft or rough noncon with bully tweels

Omg how unlucky... >_< the last people you want to be stuck in a locked room with are your bullies. For the first hour or so, Floyd's pushing you around, grumbling about how lame this is and demanding you find a way out, or else he'll squeeze you dead. He's so impatient. Jade doesn't seem to mind. He stands by, watching you attempt to stand up for yourself when Floyd's bullying you and relishing in the amusement. Every now and then, he'll join in, all sharp smiles, and kindly suggest you keep trying to escape. "You wouldn't want to upset Floyd now, would you?" :) all with that insufferably polite smile of his!!!!

You thought it couldn't possibly get worst, but then there's writing on the wall saying that the only way to get out of the room is to have sex. Suddenly, the air changes. Suddenly, Floyd and Jade are looking at you more intently. Suddenly, it's no longer "Shrimpy does all the work to get us out." Now it's a team effort...or at least it is for the tweels. You laugh at the wall at first; it's such a crazy thing. There's no way they believe it, right? Surely there's another way to get out. But the twins are looming over you, all creepy smiles and giggles.

"Well, isn't this a fun development?"

"Yeeaah, seems like it, huh? So all we gotta do is fuck and we can leave? Cool. Shrimpy, c'mere for a sec."

T_T you cower in a corner, shaking your head at both of them. Suddenly they seem nicer, sweeter almost? And they talk to you softly, a stark contrast to their insincere behaviors from before.

"There's really nothing to fear, (Name). We want to escape as much as you do. It will only be a few minutes. You're in good hands," Jade promises, a hand held over his heart.

"Yeah! We'll treat ya good, so stop actin' like a lil bitch and lemme hold ya." Floyd's a little less softer than his brother, but his eyes are kind. At least they are for a second before he's glaring at you.

You're so difficult sometimes. Oh, but the fear on your face is a good look...

"Floyd, you're scaring the poor thing half to death." Jade chuckles, hiding a wicked smile behind his fist.

Floyd huffs and straightens his back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Not my fault Shrimpy's bein' annoyin'."

One way or another, you're going to end up stuffed full. Floyd gets tired of this back and forth and even Jade's secretly sick of assuring you. Floyd grabs you by the arm and drags you from out of your corner, ignoring the way you struggle and kick and cry. Conveniently, there's a bed in this room and you're shoved onto it, face-first and ass up. Floyd's hand is wrapped snugly around your neck, forcing you into the mattress. You try to squirm, but he tightens his grip and flashes his teeth at you in warning. You know what it means: stop fucking moving or I'll snap your neck.

You have to promise you won't fight back or try to run away (not that you can go anywhere) so that Floyd finally releases you. Jade takes his sweet time undressing you, running his hands over your bare skin and saying the kindest things. "See? There's no need to be so evasive. Why hide yourself from us? You're very beautiful." It's a nice balance between Floyd's cruel teasing. He slaps your ass just to see you flinch and listen to your startled yelps. Honestly, you know better than to look fearful in front of two deep-sea predators. Don't you know fear is so tantalizing to creatures from the Coral Sea? Don't you know it only makes you look even more enticing?

Omg and they spend a long time working you open and toying with your body, bullying you for being such a virgin. Look how much you came from their fingers alone. You're the cutest, most pathetic thing ever, trembling through your orgasms and crying at them. You say you hate them, but then you wouldn't be tightening this much around their fingers or arching your back when they kiss and nip at your neck. It's Floyd's idea to mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to, so that you'll look completely used when you come staggering out of the room after it's unlocked. And Jade would never disagree to such a good idea. >:) aaaa they're really so mean. You can't even try to enjoy it because the minute you do they're poking fun at you.

It's even worse when they're undressed and you're faced with two very big, very thick dicks and woooooo how are you ever going to fit both of them?! It's impossible! You can't! But Floyd grabs you by the hair and pushes your face into his dick, forcing you to take him in your mouth. You're shaking so much. :( you're so scared and his grip is unrelenting. At least Jade's kind enough to pet your head and guide your hand to his dick, patiently assisting you until you find your pace. And you're crying the entire time; your technique is sloppy and inexperienced because you've never given head before and Floyd teases you for it. "Shrimpy's so bad at this!" And Jade agrees like: "Unfortunately, your technique is rather...lacking." They're terrible, and you spend too much time stalling around Floyd's tip that he grabs you by the face and thrusts all the way down your throat. You choke and gag, more tears springing to your eyes, and Floyd wheezes with laughter. Even Jade's amused by the struggle, quietly chuckling on the sidelines.

It doesn't improve when they talk amongst themselves, debating which hole they should get or if they should just try to fit both in at once. Obviously, you flinch at the mention of the latter and the twins pick up on your fear right away, as if it's the potent scent of blood in water. You beg them not to, but Jade's tied your wrists together behind your back and so you can't shove him off even if you tried.

"Course it'll fit," Floyd assures you, ruffling your hair and grinning down at you. He forces your legs apart and jams two fingers in your slick hole. You jolt at the intrusion. "Or maybe not. Shrimpy's super tight."

"Oh? Even after all that thorough preparation?" Jade tilts his head at you.

There's no swaying the twins after they've made up their minds. You have no choice but to brace yourself when they sandwich you, lining themselves up. You keep begging and begging, but it won't do anything. To add even more salt to your wounds, Floyd licks your tears away and Jade swipes them with his thumb.

"Come on, don't be so scared. It'll be fun, Shrimpy!" He pinches your cheeks and pulls your lips up into a forced smile.

"We'll be gentle." It's an empty promise from Jade. Everything he's said since you were trapped has been an empty promise.

They're so big, and the stretch hurts. No amount of lube or slick could prepare you for it. You sob into Jade's shoulder while Floyd bites your neck from behind. It hurts. You want them to stop, but they're not even halfway in yet. They can't stop now! And at some point, pain falls away and is replaced with pleasure. Maybe it's because Floyd's hands are roaming and Jade's kisses are sugary sweet. Maybe it's because you feel so full and there's something so erotically pleasing about that. Or maybe it's because they're paying so much attention to you and it's a different sort of attention than the usual bullying you receive from them.

By the end of it, you're begging for more. Jade and Floyd hope they didn't break you so soon. But even if they did, that's okay. You're still fun even if logical thoughts have been fucked out of your brain. <3

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: noncon #mean eels... >:(

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l0serloki · 3 months

Note

Hiii! Can i request Iso with a childhood friend reader whom he's so attached with for years until he lost contact with the reader. Present time, he was tasked to eliminate a certain target which was an escaped experiment of Kingdom (like omen in his trailer but with reader) so when he finds the reader and fought with her (he didn't get to notice that it was her due to the years they have been apart and her appearance that had changed, i like to imagine that reader had similar life draining abilities like reyna) but time passed he managed to recognize that it was his childhood friend if it weren't for the eyes that he adored so much.

im having an Iso brainrot rn, have a great day <33

Childhood Memories

Iso x Reader

CW : fighting, allusions to being abused by kingdom

masterlist

Iso had gone many years since he last saw you. His family had moved around a lot when he was a child, leading to meeting you through those fleeting years. He still remembers the fun he had chasing you around, the whispers between classes, and the inside jokes. He missed you terribly but with his job he had never bothered to reach out. He knew how some people felt about radiants and it had been a long time since he had seen you. For all he knew you could even be married by now..

He couldn’t think about that now though. He had a mission to do.

His body carried him as fast as it could, trailing behind his target. He hadn’t had his prey be this evasive in a long time. It was almost exhilarating. There was spice to this challenge.

“Stop.” You yelled out as you turned around. Your eyes widened as you took in your pursuers form. You couldn’t even bring yourself to drain the man standing in front of you. He was too much like him. Like Li.

“It's you and me!” He yelled out and you felt yourself be whisked away. The world was purple as you took in the shapes around you. You had realized quickly what this was. You weren’t stupid - you had heard about the bounty hunter before. You had to shake away your past and fight. Your life depended on it.

You warped and ran around the bullets as you shot back. After what seemed like ages you felt one smack into your ankle. Your body screamed for help but you had to keep pushing.. You had to escape.

“Stop, you're finished.” His voice demanded from above you. You looked up into his eyes as you had accepted your fate. It was a cruel twist of destiny to die at the hands of the only person you had ever considered your true friend. There was no way it wasn’t him.

“End me Li.” You whisper up and much to your surprise he crouched down. His gloved hand rubbed against your cheek as he stared into your eyes. You could do it. You could drain him at this distance. And yet you never did.

You moved your face into the soft touch as his thumb glided against your skin.

“Y/N?” His voice was hoarse and tears threatened to spill from his purple hues. You didn’t trust yourself to speak as you nodded up at him. His arms hesitantly reached out to wrap around you, his purple gulag washing away.

“It’s really you?” He whispered out against your shoulder as his body shook in tandem with you.

“It’s really me.” You affirmed and he pulled you back out to stare at you.

“I won’t kill you. I’ll help you out. But I want you to stay with me for a while. We have a lot of catching up to do.” His face was dead serious and you could feel your body slowly relax.

“We do. You wouldn’t believe what those people have done to me.” You choke out and Iso helps you to your feet. His eyebrows furrow as he hears your words.

“I doubt I’ll be anything but happy when I do hear about it. So let’s get home, Y/N.” His hand grips at yours as he gives one final soft look, tugging you along.

Let’s get home, Y/N.

You were finally free. And what funny world it is that your old friend was the one who broke the chains.

#valorant #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #iso x reader fluff #iso imagine #iso valorant #valorant iso #iso x reader

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kiwisbell · 5 months

Text

Las Mañanas || Chapter 5 [javier peña]

She’s a waitress in a little café. He’s a DEA agent who likes the coffee. Just the coffee. That’s all. Or, slices of life (and sometimes pie) shared between Javi and his wife, including his tireless journey to making her his wife.

series masterlist | my masterlist

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags/warnings: javi getting the fucking love he deserves, coffee shop AU if you squint really hard, reader no longer has a shitty husband(!!), mentions of sex work, soft and sweet!javi, protective!javi, grumpy!javi, simp!javi tbh, alcohol, smoking, so much fluff, nobody fucks with javi's girl, overuse of spanish pet names, poorly-translated spanish, "she" pronoun used throughout, oral sex (m and f receiving), guilt & shame, brief relationship angst, stakeouts, stechner is a dick, javi is an idiot for a while, premature ejaculation, makeup sex (actually makeup pussy-eating), chucho being peak dad, nightmares

word count: ~ 7.6k

a/n: communicate with your partners, people.

chapter five: love me until i love myself

They don't fight often. But when it happens, it's usually Javier’s fault. This time is no different.

You could hardly call them fights. Sometimes he forgets he's allowed to share things with her, that he doesn't need to stay silent and mope the way he was used to doing before they met. Sometimes he catches himself smoking by the window when she's asleep because he's woken up and can’t go back, no matter how warm and soft she is beside him. She’ll wake up, too, sensing his absence—then she'll sit by the window with him and give him a good stare until he realises he can talk. He can open up.

Sometimes he doesn't. It happens when he gets worked up, when he's been suffering through bureaucracy and red tape and evasive weasels. He doesn't want to burden her with that shit, so he buries it; he needs to feel it, to stew so he can get past it next time. But she doesn't take it.

“Be honest with me,” she said, softly, sliding onto his lap in the chair by the window. “Is there anything I’ve done to make you feel like you can't tell me these things?”

It wasn't a vindictive question. It was a real one, full of genuine curiosity. And it made him feel like a total asshole. “No, baby. Fuck no.”

She pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. “We're partners,” she whispered against his skin. “It kills me to see you so down, honey. I know it's the job, but I hate knowing I can't help.”

Javier crushed his cigarette and pulled her in close, flush to his chest, while he blew out smoke. “You help me just by breathing, amor.”

“Talking takes breathing,” she said teasingly, nosing along his cheek. “You can talk to me, Javier. I know sometimes you don't want to, and that's okay, but what’s not okay is you shutting me out, ignoring me. I had enough of that when I was married.”

And that gentle scolding kicked some real fucking sense into him. “Shit,” he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face. “Shit, baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He cradled the back of her head and looked into her eyes. “I’ll talk.” He pulled her in and kissed her. She sighed into his mouth.

He was a complete dumbass. He didn't deserve the way her body curved into his or her soft moans melted his bones. He didn't deserve the kindness of her reprimands when he'd been so fucking stupid. But, like she sensed his self-loathing creeping up, she pulled away and said, “I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. You’re not like him and you will never be like him. Te amo, vaquero.” She kissed him hard. “Te amo.”

This time, it feels worse. Los Pepes have him on edge, worried about when they'll inevitably turn, deciding she's a good target if he makes a wrong move. He’s in bed with narcos, while he sleeps next to the love of his life. It's the stupidest decision he's made in a long time, and it's a decision he made to keep the streets safer.

He didn't know then that digging in deep would put her trust in him at risk.

“Los Pepes will serve him justice,” says Don Berna with a mirthless laugh. “Ever in your service, Agent Peña.”

Javier sniffs. “You're in your own service.”

Tomorrow morning, Los Pepes will raid the home of Rodolfo Vargas, a trafficker recently recruited by the Medellín cartel to move drugs through his auto body shop. They're effective and efficient, and they're bloody as all hell. More violence isn't what Medellín needs, but it's what they'll get if they want any chance at taking down the cartel. It's not a rosy job, and Javier hates himself more and more for it each visit he makes with Berna.

“Got a cigarette?”

It's a bait of a question. Javier’s clearly already smoking. It’s a test to see if he’s willing to stay and chat after their exchange. He isn't, but this means Berna’s got more to say.

Javier passes him a cigarette, but he lets the man light it on his own. “That's one beautiful woman you keep on your arm, Peña,” says Berna good-naturedly.

That gruff voice of his grates Javier’s ears and incites a vague panic. But his fury rings loud and clear. “I’ve seen many beautiful women in my life,” he says evenly.

Don't you dare fucking talk about her. Leave her out of this.

Berna’s laugh is a real goddamned smoker’s laugh. If Javier doesn't quit the way he’s been talking about, he'll sound like that before he’s forty. “It’s a nice little place she runs. Good coffee.” His eyes slide Javier's way. “Don't see a ring on her finger.”

“Do you have a point, Berna?” He can pass off the tightness in his jaw as his cheeks hollowing around his cigarette. But not for much longer. He's learned his limits when it comes to her; it doesn't take much taunting talk like this for him to show his hand. He needs to manoeuvre carefully.

“No point, my friend,” says Berna. “It's good to see men like you happy. And with a woman like her”—he whistled—“I can see why you smile. Do you do this for her?”

Javier scoffs like he couldn't be bothered for such unmanly talk. “I came out here to smoke alone, you know. I do this because it's my job.”

“That's good to know.” Berna takes another drag. “Los Pepes will make Medellín safer for your girl.”

Berna knows he's in Javier’s head. He's got the upper hand with the mention of her. He must have seen them together last night. Javier took her out to dinner. “Fuck you, and fuck your threats,” he says at last. “We have a deal, Berna. Aiming threats at her is the best way to break it.”

He crushes his cigarette and leaves in his truck. By the time he gets home, it's an hour later than he promised, and his body is tense enough to saw a plank of wood in half. She's still awake, as they promised so long ago, lounging on the couch while the TV drones a telenovela. She loves them. They're the kind of mindless drama she gets sucked into. The real-world shit has burned her one too many times.

“Hi,” she says softly, sitting up and yawning. “Everything okay?”

And she isn't angry. Of course she's not angry; it's their deal that they stay awake for one another so they won't go to bed upset. It's perfectly reasonable.

So Javier, like the moron he is, grunts and leaves for the bathroom without so much as a kiss hello.

He splashes water onto his face and stares in the mirror as the seconds tick by. He turns the shower hot, hot enough to scald, and stands underneath the stream. He doesn't even wash himself. He just drowns in self-loathing until enough time has passed that he can call it a shower.

When he leaves the bathroom, she's moved to the kitchen. He smells soup, and his stomach grumbles with hunger he didn't know he was feeling. He hasn't eaten since breakfast.

Neither of them speaks until she places a bowl in front of him and sits down. “You had a hard day,” she says, looking him in the eye even as he feels too ashamed to meet hers. “I understand. It's unfair of you to treat me like I don’t.”

He knows. Fuck, he knows. She doesn't deserve this. But his brain won't let him pry his mouth open to let her in. It's like someone’s put a lock in his own head. He feels tight inside, his stomach a coil that won't snap. It’s not you. It’s. Not. You. I just can't stop hating myself and the things I do. I love you so fucking much. I need you to be safe. Know that. Please.

He can't say any of it. “Everything’s fine,” he shoves out.

Her lips purse. “You're scaring me, Javier. You're coming home late, and you're acting like I’m not here, and you look out the windows every five minutes. Is there someone coming for us? Do I need to be worried?”

“I told you,” he bites, “everything’s fine. I just—”

“Had a hard day.” She nods slowly, but that pinch of irritation in her eyes doesn't leave. “But it isn't fine. I think you know by now that I know you better than anyone. So what makes you think I’m going to leave this alone?”

“Nothing,” he says, and it snaps harsher in the quiet air than he meant it to. “Nothing makes me believe you'll leave it alone, because you never leave anything alone. You keep digging and digging and I don't want to fucking talk. Talking doesn't solve shit. So just leave. It. Alone.”

He doesn't even mean it. And he certainly doesn't mean to say it all to her. Never her. But he can't take it back, and now he sounds just like her ex-husband.

Her face crumbles. She doesn't even look angry anymore; she just looks sad. She shuts down, pulls her hand back. “I’m going to eat downstairs with Connie,” she says, her voice breaking. “She’s alone tonight, too. I’ll let you think.”

When she stands, she lifts her hand like she wants to touch his cheek the way she usually does when they stand from the dinner table. Javier chokes on every word he wants to say. He wants to stand up and grab her and pull her close, and he wants to let everything fall out while he begs her to stay. I can’t lose you.

But he lets the door click softly shut behind him.

He feels the bed dip a little after midnight. He's still awake when he feels her lips against his cheek, but he keeps his eyes closed. He's definitely still awake when he hears her sniffle quietly beside him, the sound muffled. She's facing away from him.

They wake up at the same time, their eyes meeting in that slow, groggy way until they both remember where they are. Where they are.

He opens his mouth, but she scrambles out of bed like a bomb went off and heads to the bathroom.

“You should let me drive you,” he rasps when he leaves the bedroom to see her packing her purse for work. She's already dressed, fresh-faced and ready, but her eyes are sunken.

She fakes a smile, and he notices the way her eyes don't fully meet his. She just looks at a spot above his brow. “I’m okay,” she says, too brightly to be real. “I’ll be safe. Have a—” She catches herself before she can say Have a good day. “I’ll see you after work. Love you.”

She leaves without letting him return it. Without a kiss good-bye. He deserves it all. She deserves to shove a knife straight into his chest and twist. It would dull the pain that rests there now.

“I love you,” he says to the empty room.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

Nonono. Not him. Please, take me, not him. I love him. Please.

Not her. Leave her alone. I’ll fucking hunt you down. I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.

You’ll regret leaving me. I’ll make you watch him die. Then I’ll take you back. You’ll remember that you loved me.

She jolts awake from another nightmare. Her hand comes up to stifle her cries so she doesn't wake Javier.

Javier, who's lying next to her, his face gentle and serene with sleep, lips slightly parted, naked and holding her close. The morning light turns his face golden, and he's so peaceful she can't think to wake him just because she had a nightmare. So, she slips out from under his heavy arm, from his legs which are tangled with hers, and stumbles to the bathroom. She clicks the door gently shut and sinks to the floor so she can let herself cry.

Javier wakes when he feels her warmth slip away. He shuffles absentmindedly toward her side of the bed, eyes still closed, only to pout when her body isn't there for him to bury himself deep into. For a moment, he's just grumpy, but then he blinks himself awake and starts to feel uneasy. Like something is wrong.

The bathroom door is closed, but there are soft sniffles coming from within. Javier's heart spikes and he pushes open the door without thinking.

What he sees destroys him. She's sitting on the floor with her nightgown on, knees drawn up to her chest, leaning against the vanity. She scrambles to her feet when the door opens, wiping underneath her eyes aggressively. "Morning," she says weakly, trying to smile.

Javier smooths back her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Baby, what's wrong? What happened?"

His mere touch seems to set her off again. She grasps his wrists hard and sobs shudder through her body. "Bad—" She hiccups. "Bad dream. I'm sorry, this is stupid. Didn't mean to wake you. It’s late."

"It's morning, honey." He doesn't like the way the corners of her mouth pull down, the way her eyes shine with such misery. He especially doesn’t like that he put that look on her face when he refused to let her in. "Talk to me," he says softly. "¿Sí?"

She sniffles. "He made me watch you die. He killed you. I couldn't even look. I just wanted to die, too. I'm sorry. I'm..." She buries her face in her hands and begins to cry again. Javier's heart snaps.

"Ven aquí, cielito, ven aquí." He keeps on muttering to her while she wraps her arms around him and holds on tight, her nails digging into his back. He doesn't mind. "I'm here, baby," he says into her hair. "I've got you. I'm here. Not going anywhere."

She presses her face so deep into his body it's like she's trying to make them one person. “Can't lose you.”

“Never gonna lose me,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Got a lot to stay alive for, hey?”

She sniffles and looks up at him. “I didn't deserve the way you talked to me that night.”

“No. You didn't. I’ve been a complete asshole.” He caresses her arms.

“Want to tell me why?” she offers.

The unbreachable safe inside his head cracks open when she places her hand over his heart. “Fuck, baby, I just—you’re my life.” He breathes in and surprises himself when it stings, when he feels the hot prick of tears behind his eyes. “I say it all the time, but I can't lose you. I can’t. It would kill me. And what I’m doing—it's dangerous and stupid. It's something I never should have done. But I’m in deep, and if I make a wrong move…”

He's crying before he knows it, but he doesn't try to stop. He buries himself in her, holding her close and wetting the crook of her neck while her hands rub soothing circles over his back, his neck. “Javi,” she whispers, her own voice choked with tears. “It’s okay. We're okay. I’m all yours.”

She's babbling just as much as he was, but it feels so good, uncoiling the tight wire around his heart. “I just want to know that you trust us both enough to talk to me. That you trust us to fix things when they're wrong.”

“Wanna keep you away from all of it,” he huffs into her hair, grabbing a chunk of it just because it’s so soft. “Never want you to see another fuckin’ second of pain.”

“Vaquero,” she coos. “I lived a tough life when I came here. Made bad choices. I’ve seen pain and I’ll see more. But you’re the one who brought me out. You helped when you never had to. I loved you all the way back then, and I’ll love you no matter what you have to do.”

“How…” He chokes on the words, but forces them out anyway. “How can you say that when you don’t know?”

What he’s done, what is yet to come. The laws he’s broken, the people he’s cut a deal with.

She shakes her head. “I trusted you enough to put my life in your hands. I trust that you’re good. That’s all I know, Javier. I know you’re good.”

Their kiss is wet and salty with tears, but it feels like a bridge has mended.

This is what happens when you love a person: you blame everyone in the world but them. You blame the world itself for opening up a rift between you. When it closes, you go to bed, and you rest your head upon their chest and feel the stitches where the edges were sewn back up. It will be okay.

Lying in bed with his head on her chest, he tells her everything about Los Pepes. Her stomach plummets and her lips press together, but when he's done, she keeps on stroking his hair and she whispers, “Thank you.”

She's terrified for him. But he feels strangely lighter, falling slowly asleep on her as she hums a song she used to sing to her sister. Los Pepes is a speck that he can wipe off the window. This, here, with her, is the only clarity he's ever had.

She's three orgasms in, and Javier just. Keeps. Going.

She's going to be late for work. The morning sun spills over the bed, warming her naked, sweating skin, but she’s lost track of time. She's twisting her fingers into the pillow she grabbed two orgasms ago, holding it to her face when he pulls her clit into his mouth and sucks… making her come for a fourth fucking time.

Her scream is raw and practically noiseless. She can barely see with the tears clouding her vision, but she seeks his face out, trying to bring herself back to reality. Her whole body is limp and useless, her thighs twitching as she comes down.

He looks like he's in heaven. His eyes are open, their soft brown wide and seeking, making sure she's all right, not too stimulated. His hair is wild from her grip and his fingers are going to bruise her legs, but he looks so beautiful like this. He closes his eyes and groans when he tastes her cum, lapping around her clit and licking up into her, drinking it all down. She thinks she's going to black out.

She tells him as much. He chuckles, which only makes her yelp from the stimulation at her clit as he returns to it, licking in aching circles. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries. “Fuck, Javi, I can't… Feels too good… Fuck!”

He just keeps working her up until her whole body is trembling, her mind lifting free of its shackles once again as she crashes into Earth like a meteor, no more body, no more bed. She floats.

She knows he's making up for the two days they barely spoke, but she can't be bothered to call him on it when she lost her ability to prod around her own brain hours ago.

To his credit, he's always loved eating her out. It's like a sport for him, an addiction. He loves making her squirm, holding her by the thighs while he sends her head soaring into space. He loves tasting her, soaking his face with her, making her cry and moan until her throat rips raw. He's obsessed with her, wants to be possessed by her. And he's so hard he's leaking a constant stream on the sheets, grinding into the mattress when it gets too agonising. This is about her.

It doesn't stop the wet, hot sensation underneath him as he sucks her clit into his mouth, a familiar shuddering crash knocking down each knob of his spine. He grunts, hips jerking into the bed.

She comes for a sixth time before she taps him frantically on the hand and he lifts his head, resting his cheek on her thigh. Her eyes are staring up at the ceiling, her mouth open, chest heaving. She's sweating and her hair is a halo around her head. She's a vision.

He shifts, crawling up the bed and rolling them over so she's on top of him, knowing she can barely support her own head. She hums on his chest but frowns when she wiggles her hips up against his.

“You…”

“Yeah.” He pulls her in and kisses her hard, helping her centre herself in the world again.

He came on the bed sheets. Without her touching him.

“Mi vaquero,” she mumbles, kissing all over his face, her lips grazing every square inch from his jaw to his temples. “So good to me.”

He hushes her at that, grabbing her jaw and kissing her on the mouth again. He doesn't want to hear that. He's been terrible, fucking awful to her. But she's different this morning, already visibility lighter as she chirps about the bedroom, pulling on a sundress. He's old enough that his refractory period isn't what it was as a teenager, but his cock is already growing interested again as he watches her move about, her ass a beautiful sight in that dress. When she walks close to the bed, he pulls her back down on top of him.

“I’m already late!” she laughs, playfully smacking his chest. He rolls over and pins her down, naked atop her. “Aye, viejo. You’ll hurt your back.”

“Don’t give a shit,” he murmurs, kissing down her jaw, throat, and collarbones with sloppy caresses of his tongue. “My fucking beautiful girl.”

She shrieks as his hands leave her wrists to drag down her waist. “Tickles!” She tangles her fingers in his hair and lifts his head up, grinning down at him with flushed cheeks. “Honey, if we don't get up now, we're not getting up at all.”

“Mmm.” He sinks his teeth playfully into her throat.

“Vampiro,” she huffs, but he can feel her getting worked up, rolling her hips against his naked cock even though she’s already come six times. They roll again, and she's on top. A soft growl sounds through his throat when he sees his precum stain the front of her dress. The friction is fucking good. Javier’s mouth falls open and he loses his grip on her involuntarily when she pulls down the straps of her dress and exposes her breasts to him while she rides. “You can come like this, can’t you?” she pants, grinding against him.

He’s nodding frantically, but he can’t even hold his head up once she starts rolling her hips harder. “Sh—shit,” he whispers, reaching out for her hips to help her along. She whimpers. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, keep going. So good. Shit, sweetheart…”

Her head falls back against her shoulders, and he admires the smooth column of her throat as her mouth drops open and she cries out. Freezing on his cock, her whole body shudders, and she comes. “That’s it,” he bites out, “take what you need, amor.”

She’s grinding on him again before she comes down all the way, planting her hands on his chest. It doesn’t take long for him to come, too, baring his teeth and barely choking out, “Coming.”

She slides down his body and takes his cock in her hand, pumping until he begins to spurt his cum over his chest. He slams his hand down on the mattress and twists the sheets in his hand, eyes squeezing shut. They fly open immediately once he feels her hot mouth wrap around his cock and take the last few spurts down her throat. The sight alone prolongs his orgasm until his cum spills out of her mouth, dribbling down her chin. She swipes it up with her thumb and swallows it all down. Even softening, his cock still twitches in her hand.

He swallows. “Christ.” His voice is raw. “I’m late.”

“We were late when you made me come the fourth time.” She kisses his cheek. “C’mon, viejo. Drive me to work—I’ll bring you something to eat on my break.”

She does. Javier is still looking down at his typewriter when Murphy cheers, lifting his coffee mug into the air. He’s on the phone. “Empanadas! Can I have some, sweetheart?”

Javier rips the receiver out of his hand. “Baby, why'd you call Steve instead of me?”

“You weren't answering your phone,” she says sweetly.

“My phone hasn't rung.”

“Maybe I just wanted to bug you.” She’s grinning wickedly from the sound of her voice. “I’m talking with Penny if you wanna see me.”

He really does. He tosses the receiver back at Murphy, who keeps on talking to her while Javier makes his way downstairs to the front desk. She's in a different outfit because he stained her dress when he finished on it: a pair of jeans that show off her ass in a way that makes his eye twitch and one of his polos, tucked into her waistband. He's surprised he manages to refrain from pouncing on her like a cat when he reaches her.

“Mi amor,” he whispers in her ear. “Long time, no see.”

She bites her lip, still holding the phone to her other ear. “Yeah, Steve. I’ll tell him. And you're both invited to dinner Saturday night. Yeah. No, no, don't worry about it. Yeah. Bye, Steve. Say hi to Connie for me.”

Javier holds her around the waist when he greets Penny, pushing his sunglasses down his nose and winking. The middle-aged receptionist blushes at him like she always does. His girl kisses him on the cheek and hands back the receiver to Penny. “Thank you, honey,” says the receptionist.

She hands Javier a paper bag that's warm to the touch. “Yeah,” he says lowly, kissing her because he can, “thank you, honey.”

She looks up at him with doe’s eyes. “I’ve got an hour.”

That's what he likes to hear. Javier takes her hand and guides her upstairs, hoping to find an empty conference room for the pair of them to eat away from prying eyes.

“Aren't you two a pair.”

Bill Stechner wanders out of the men’s bathroom and blocks their path down the hallway. She curls up close to Javier and wraps her hand around his arm. He's told her about this asshole. “Stechner. I've got lunch to eat.”

He doesn't budge. “So this is the infamous Señora Peña. Well, not yet, but I’m rooting for you. If only he would just get on with it, right?” His good-natured smile has a predatory gleam to it.

She smiles politely. “Mr. Stechner.”

No Nice to meet you, the way she usually greets people. The man doesn’t look at Javier, keeping his eyes on his girl instead; it’s enough to heat up Javier’s blood a couple degrees. “I’d like a word, Mr. Peña,” he says.

“Told you,” he bites out. “Busy.”

“Wasn’t a request. The pretty lady can manage five minutes alone, right?”

Javier feels his eye twitch.

“Honey,” she says, “I think I’d like a kiss.”

And she pulls Javier down by the back of his neck, kissing him hard enough to bruise, right in front of Stechner. She pulls the sunglasses off his nose while their mouths are connected and places them atop her own head. Lost in the addictive sweetness that surrounds her at all times, Javier slants his mouth over hers and slips his tongue past her teeth. It takes an obnoxiously loud cough from Stechner for her to break away, smiling up at him like she's innocent, like she didn't ride the soul out of Javier this morning.

“Your word with my husband can wait,” she tells Stechner. “I’m here on my lunch. Have a nice day, Mr. Stechner.”

She slips by him as he watches her with a vaguely amused sneer. Javier follows her, but Stechner claps him on the shoulder. “Good woman,” he says quietly. “Knows what's best for you. I’ll see you in my office when she's gone, yeah?” He walks down the hallway in the opposite direction, repeating the words “good woman” under his breath.

Javier scoops up her hand and takes her into the closest empty conference room he can find. “Javi,” she says softly, “your nostrils are flaring.”

“Yeah.” He barely gets the word out before he's on her mouth again, a bruising kiss that lets him push all his need, all his desperation and tension, into her lungs. He wants to consume her. His brave, strong girl. The whirlwind. The calm when the gale dies down. She's everything, and he kisses her like it.

He's devouring her, messy, sucking on her tongue and slipping his hands underneath her shirt. She stumbles against the table and he lifts her up onto it, staggering himself as he tries to find something to hold onto and chooses her instead: her face, her throat, her hips.

He only pulls away because she's panting, desperate to suck in air, and he won't have her struggling for breath just yet. “Shit,” she gasps, prodding her lips with her finger. “Shit, honey, I didn't know you liked other people watching us that much.”

He nudges his nose against her cheek. He can't move away from her; he just keeps shifting closer, one leg between both of hers, his torso flush to her chest. He wants to become part of her. “So fucking good,” he mutters. “Making him look like an idiot. Showing him who I fuckin' belong to.”

“Mmm.” She drags her nails up the base of his neck and he bares his teeth against her skin. “You like that, vaquero? Kissing me in front of that asshole?”

He shifts his hands to her thighs just so he can squeeze her. “Yeah, I do. Most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And all mine.”

“Siempre, Javier,” she breathes into his cheek.

He grins, biting her jaw. “Don't think I didn't catch that, baby.”

“Catch what?” she asks coyly, sending blood rushing to his cock.

“You called me your husband.”

“Did I?” She shrugs, wiggling against him and pulling him closer, somehow. “Oh, well. Felt like the right thing to say.”

He cannot cope with the amount of love inside him. It breaks him in two, cleaves him open at the chest and pulls his beating heart right out of it for her to see. To touch and hold and keep forever. He doesn't know how to tell her she owns the part of him that keeps him alive, so he kisses her again. “Mi amor,” he mumbles. “Mi esposa. Gonna marry you and keep you with me forever. Everyone’s gonna fuckin’ know it's you, baby.”

She giggles, a bit drunk from kissing him and bruising her lips. “Better work on that proposal, then, cowboy. My hour’s running out.”

“Not here,” he says. “I’m gonna do it properly. Romance you.”

She lifts a brow and places a hand on his chest. “Can’t do that on an empty stomach. Eat.”

They sit next to one another at the table and dig into her empanadas like they've never eaten a day in their lives. It feels true, given they missed breakfast to fuck. Her feet up on his lap, he rubs the bone of her ankle with his thumb. “He's a dick,” she says out of the blue. “He's entitled and he's dangerous. He's got too much power over you, Javi.”

He squeezes her ankle. “So do you, baby, but you don't see me complaining.”

She gives him a hard look. “I don't have anything to do with your job. He does.”

They can’t talk about Los Pepes here, not with the chance someone could overhear. But he knows her code, the way she knows his. Javier cups her cheek and traces her bottom lip with his thumb. “Wanna know what I know?” She nods, looking up at him with her softened, buttery eyes, the eyes that make his brain spout any nonsense as long as it makes her happy. “I know I don’t have shit if I don’t have you.”

She bites her lip to stop her smile. “Don’t let any of those guys out there hear you say that.”

“Those guys…” He leans forward slowly only to grab her thigh and pull her onto his lap. “… don’t have you. Don’t know how fuckin’ crazy you make a man.”

She hums, grasping his jaw in her hand. “Just one man.”

It makes him feel manic, primal, his head buzzing with desire. His blood is hot and his fingers squeeze her thighs hard enough to leave indents. He shifts to wrap his arm around her waist possessively. All of him feels possessive—he’s crawling with the itch to keep her close to him, bury himself in her, never let the world touch her the way it has before.

He breathes into her neck like it’s oxygen and he’s drowning. “Need to… Fuck, need…”

“Javi,” she says gently, her touch a cooling balm to his heated skin as she slips her hands under the collar of his shirt and presses down on his shoulders. It grounds him here, with her. “I need it, too, Javi. Need you all the time. But I have to go back to work.”

It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse. Her hour’s almost up. So he reacts reasonably: he shoves his face into her hair and huffs like a grumpy old dog. She laughs, exasperated. “Drive me back.”

“It’s a block away, baby.” He’s still grumbling against her, the need for her so intense he refuses to peel himself away.

She lifts a brow at him like she can’t believe he would dare to refuse her offer. “Drive me back,” she says again, “and take the long way around.”

He perks up, the dog who knows he’s going to the park. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, sliding off him and offering her hand. “I forgot to wear panties.”

He’s certain every single person in the building knows why they’re leaving together, but he doesn’t give a shit. He keeps his hand on her lower back and when they find a side street, he spreads her across the bench of his truck and buries his cock deep inside her.

“Javi, your dad’s on the phone.”

He walks out of the shower with his hair still damp and shakes it over her when he meets her at the table. She yelps, smacking him on the shoulder. He just gets onto his knees so he’s at eye-level with her tits, on display in her unbuttoned blouse, and she has to grab hold of his hair to keep him away from them.

“No, Chucho, he’s just got out of the shower. Of course he wants to talk to you!” She grins into the receiver. “No, he hasn’t done it yet. Of course I’m going to say yes; él es el amor de mi vida.” She looks down at him and winks. “I’ll put him on for you.”

He sits his ass on the floor so he can rest his cheek on her inner thigh, happily sandwiched between her legs and deliciously close to her lacy panties. “Hi, Pop,” he says, grabbing a cigarette off the table while he wedges the phone between his ear and her thigh, close to purring with the way she brushes through his hair with her fingers.

“Tu amor sounds more and more beautiful every time I talk to her,” says Chucho. “It’s a shame I barely know what she looks like.”

His father has been pressing Javier like an embosser on paper to take a break, visit him in Laredo. He wants to meet his future daughter-in-law so badly he keeps saying it’ll kill him. Javier lights his cigarette. “Pop—”

“There's plenty of room on the ranch,” he cuts in. “I’ve got the guest room made up.”

Javier lazily meets his girl’s eye. Guest room, he mouths. She bites down on her lip and shimmies a bit, her tits shaking against the silk of her shirt. He elects not to look away. “Yeah, Pop,” he says vaguely. “We're gonna visit. Make a vacation out of it.”

She leans down to speak into the receiver. “Make sure you put him to work, Mr. Peña.”

Javier’s too busy taking the opportunity to take a nipple between his teeth to retort. She huffs, smacking him gently upside the head. “Why do you think I invite him?” says Chucho.

Javier asks about the calves and the crops (all thriving), and he asks how Chucho’s back is doing (about the same; back problems run in the family). She stands to make dinner while they're chatting about Laredo (the sheriff’s department's latest drug bust, the gossip about Chucho’s next-door neighbour a mile down the road and his latest affair). Javier follows her into the kitchen like a puppy, tucking the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he chops tomatoes. He’ll hand the phone to her when his father wants to talk to her, which is most of the time.

What's for dinner, mija? How’s your mother doing? Do you know how to milk a cow?

Javier smiles. They've been making friends with one another since the first time Chucho asked him to put her on the phone. She’s it for me, Pop.

Gonna give me grandkids?

He’ll just laugh and say, Talk to you next week.

It's not that they haven't talked about it. They have—at length. But if they're going to try, it won't be while he's working against the most dangerous people in Colombia.

When he sets down the phone, she slides her hand across his stomach. “That shirt,” she mutters.

He looks down at her, lifting his brow. “This shirt,” he prompts.

She slides her other hand up his arm, a ghost of a touch, and it's enough to send blood to his interested cock. It doesn't take much from her. “So sexy,” she hums, fisting the yellow polo by the collar.

She has a unique appreciation for his wardrobe. Always says he's stuck in the ‘70s, that he owns one too many loud patterns for his own good, that he sticks out in his tight jeans. But Christ, she likes it. “Sure it's not the body, baby?” he asks, low and deep, abandoning the cutting board to slide his hands beneath her silk blouse and pull her mostly naked body to him. “Worked hard for it. Running over rooftops all day.”

“Oh, it's the body, all right.” She lifts up the hem of his shirt. “You’re so handsome. So strong. All mine.”

He's putty in her hands when she tells him he's handsome. She can shower him with affection and words and he'll melt, butter, pliable as she has her way with him. He likes it: knowing she sees him as strong, good, capable. Sees him as someone she wants to bee seen with all the time.

And right now, she needs it. He's more than willing to give. She's hands and lips, feverish in the way she pulls his shirt up over his head and shucks her own blouse off. He has to brace his hands on the counter just so he doesn't keel over from the blood leaving his brain when she begins to kiss, lick, nibble all over. From his neck to his chest, all the way down to his stomach until she’s licking his aching hardness over his jeans. “Fuck,” he hisses, slamming his palm down on the countertop. He won't guide her. He wants her to take him the way she wants. But even like this, he's leaking, making a mess of himself. He goes white-blind for a moment when she takes his zipper between her teeth and tugs it down.

“Jesus,” he groans to himself. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

He tries not to let his eyes cross. He really does. But she takes him into her wet, hot mouth after shucking his pants down his thighs like they owe her money. And he chokes on his own tongue with how fucking good it feels, his hips stuttering and his hands white-knuckling the counter.

She slides her tongue around his head while she takes him down to her throat, licking along his veins and swallowing around his length. She sucks his cock as if she needs it to survive, and he just might die.

Her hands caress his thighs as she moans around him, and then they migrate to his balls, reaching around to squeeze his ass just because she loves to, because she knows he’ll let her do anything when he’s this far gone. His head is fuzzy and he can't form a sentence; he just curses and says her name and curses some more. She keeps her eyes on him so he keeps his on her, and they become the only two people in the world.

His hearing comes back in a rush, like emerging from underwater, when she takes him down to the base, her nose brushing the hairs at the base of his cock, and chokes in her excitement to swallow, to make him feel good.

The word good isn't in his vocabulary when it comes to this. This is ecstasy. Javier shuts his eyes and even stumbles a little when he comes. She holds onto his thighs, keeping her mouth locked around him as he spurts every drop of his cum inside her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mmmhmm,” she groans, eyes watery, mascara dribbling black tears down her cheeks. He reaches out to tangle his fingers in her hair just to hold onto something so he doesn't fall over. He just keeps coming until her cheeks expand and she pulls off; the last of his cum drips out onto her bruised lips.

He wants to drop to his knees and propose right then and there when she opens her mouth to show the mess he made of her mouth, clearly awaiting his instructions. He collects himself enough to do two things: firstly, he remembers he cannot propose to her while her mouth is full of cum; second, he croaks out a barely-audible “Swallow.” She does.

“Fucking…” He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, hoping to clear his vision. “Fucking… baby, I—”

She shakes her head and kisses his softening cock gently. It makes him twitch, but he's too spent to go again. “I know,” she says, her voice a bit raspy and ruined. She leans her head against his thigh and sighs happily.

He helps her to her feet, tucks himself back into his jeans, and kisses her hard. He pants against her cheek when he's done nibbling at her lips. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“So handsome,” she whispers, like it's a sufficient answer for her. “Just love you so much.”

“You're so”—he kisses a path along her cheek to her jaw—“fucking”—he bites down on the curve of her throat—“good to me. So good to me. Fuckin’ love you, mi alma.”

Usually, she's a giggling mess when he bites her like this. Mi vampiro, she'll say, indulging him with a hand at the back of his head. Now, she moans, body curving up against him. “Javi,” she breathes out. “Want you to watch me.”

“Shit. Shit, honey, is it my fuckin’ birthday?” He slips his hand around her waist, but she pulls back and smiles wickedly.

“You can't touch.”

And there's the kicker.

He pouts down at her, and she presses her fingers to his lips before she slides them down her body, sweet and slow. It's rare they make dinner on time during nights like these. Tonight is no exception.

When Javier proposes, it's private.

He does it in their apartment because she doesn't like spectacles. Neither does he. It's just for them: the dinner he cooks, three courses he only knows how to perfect by being with her; the lilies he bought in bulk just to spread them around the place because she loves them so much; the way he tells her to close her eyes and she does, even though she's got a giddy grin on her face and knows what he's up to.

She opens them and begins to cry nonetheless, seeing him on one knee at her feet.

From the moment he walked into the café, he fell in love with her. He gained a friend and a partner in that little window of time that was only for them. He trusted her before he trusted himself. He feels like a teenager when he's with her, so excited to be in her company and giddy with the simplest touch; and he feels more like an adult than he ever has, knowing she’s the most important part of his life and he needs to cherish her, protect her. He loves her smile and her laugh. Her voice. Her eyes. Her kindness and her patience. Her smart mouth. The way she knows him long before he's figured it out himself. The way she can calm the storm in him with a whisper and a touch. He's difficult and grumpy, and she chooses him every time. He loves her so much it hurts.

He tells her all of this. And then he asks her if she'll marry him, since it's customary. Even though they’ve been organising their documents and ensuring everything is in order for months, he still asks. She deserves to hear him ask.

She says yes.

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