#nevada ramirez imagine

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Nevada Ramirez:  A King’s Ransom Masterlist

(Everything marked with an asterisk (*) should be considered 18+ only)

(Featuring Nevada Ramirez and F!Reader)

° Part One *

° Part Two *

° Part Three

° Part Four *

° Part Five *

° Part Six *

° Part Seven *

° Part Eight *

° Part Nine *

° Part Ten *

° Part Eleven *

° Part Twelve *

° Part Thirteen *

° Part Fourteen *

° Part Fifteen *

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez x you #trouble in the heights #trouble in the heights fanfiction #tropes-and-tales

[melk917]

I posted 728 times in 2022

That's 152 more posts than 2021!

273 posts created (38%)

455 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lannister-slings-and-arrows

@thatesqcrush

@melk917

@storiesofsvu

@pascalispretty

I tagged 554 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#rafael barba - 142 posts

#mk answers - 136 posts

#law and order svu - 86 posts

#rafael barba x reader - 66 posts

#paul mendelson - 50 posts

#law and order svu imagine - 42 posts

#melk917fantasybingo - 39 posts

#nevada ramirez - 36 posts

#dopesick hulu - 32 posts

#raúl esparza - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#i can’t even tell you how i will never recover from the knowledge that i could have seen this in person… almost saw this in person

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

For HCs - the moment your libido skyrockets during your pregnancy with the boy of your choice (or all if the inspiration hits!) and how he reacts?

Ohhhh so this is a HC/plot point (?) that happens in the Full Ratchet when she gets pregnant. So gleefully doing this for Rafa.

So, short answer? He is surprised, but loves it.

So there are two big surprises for him along these lines: one, he was certainly not expecting the hormone shift in the second trimester that leads to you jumping him at every opportunity; and two, he wasn't expecting just how much he is actually into how your body is changing. It's not that he assumed he'd wouldn't be attracted to you. It that he's surprised by just how much he's into it.

So, honestly, it's a surprise, but it works out?

And really, it does start to feel like it's everywhere, all the time. He's not working full time at this point (having just left the DA's office a few months before), so he's easier access.

You're waking him up in the morning with soft kisses down his neck, a hand slipping over his hip to tease him to full hardness. Whispering in his ear, begging him to let you blow him, to ride him.

You'll back him up against the counter when he's making breakfast, pulling him close and licking into his mouth.

Sliding into his lap when he's working or just watching TV.

Pulling him close when you're out to dinner, slipping your hand up his thigh under the table, teasing him, whispering in his ear, begging him to take you home and fuck you. Telling him how wet you are. Taking his hand and pulling it up your skirt or down you pants to show him.

Slipping into the shower with him in the morning or at night.

You can't get through a full movie anymore. You're pulling his arm around you, arching against him, pulling his hand up to cup your breasts, or down between your legs.

At night, you're coming to bed in lingerie you'd never sleep in, slipping into his lap. Or some nights you'll be waiting for him, naked between the sheets (sometimes even playing with yourself before gets there because the two minutes he spends brushing his teeth are just too long to wait.)

There's weekends the two of you hardly get out of bed, ordering in, and just going for round after round.

And honestly, he's just as crazy for you. The curve of your belly, how full your breasts are getting, the curve of your hips, your thighs, your ass. He didn't expect it, how crazy it makes him, how he can't keep his hands off you. And you're teasing him, telling him it's because he's unconsciously recognizing that he's the one that's done that to you, that it's his child. (He doesn't need to fully understand why, as long as he can get his hands on you.)

You two go away when you're about 5 or 6 months pregnant. A last trip while you can travel. Some place warm and relaxing. And he's utterly floored the day you go to the beach and you've got that tiny black bikini on. It's pure torture for him, the way you fill out the top, the curve of your belly. And when you hold out the bottle of sunscreen and ask him to help you apply it, a knowing smirk on your face, he thinks he's going to combust if he can't have you right then. He's tugging the curtains closed on the cabana and stripping you out of that so he can get his mouth on you. (There was no way he could wait till you got back to the hotel room.)

It eventually tapers off, and you get way too uncomfortable and sensitive to be up to that level of passion and need. But he's just as happy to curl up behind you, rubbing your back, your feet, and sharing snacks. Whatever helps.

86 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

#4

Table Top or Just Give Me a Lap Dance

Warnings: Some dirty dancing, a hint of language (including light Daddy kink) and suggested nudity

Rating: M

Pairing: Rafael Barba x f!Reader

Summary: A little grinding to seduce (Tell me how we do it, if you want me, and I want you too)

Song Vibes: Envolver

The flash of lights from the street outside shifts across his face, highlighting the flush on his cheeks. He’s a bit drunk, loose limbed and rumpled, a pleased little smile tugging at his mouth as the two of you are finally left alone, all your guests gone.

He watches with bright eyes, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you make your approach, fingers playing at the edges of the sheer slip you’re wearing, hips rolling with the beat of the music, bass turned up to shiver through the air.

You know the picture you present, backlit, curves of your body just shaded through the fabric, suggesting just enough to tease, to hint at what awaits.

“You didn’t want to go with your friends?”

He drags his gaze from your thighs up the length of your body to your face, his pupils blown wide. He shakes his head, slow and deliberate, as he reaches out, long fingers tracing warm from your knee to your hip. They steal under the edge of your slip to stroke your skin.

“Well then. It looks like it’s just us here.” Your voice is shaded with amusement as he nods absently, his chin tilted up to hold your gaze, his palm curving over your hip.

You lean down, lips against his ear, voice low. “Shouldn’t we play by the rules if we’re going to play this game?”

He makes a soft sound of protest as you pull back to smirk at him, tugging his hands from your skin. You push lightly on his chest until he’s sprawled back on the couch, legs spread, collar open, tie loose. He’s watching you through hooded eyes, lips parted around heavy breaths, fingers curling against the cushions so he doesn’t reach for you. He’s wrecked and you’re just starting.

The bass throbs, seductive, and you let it flow through you, winding your hips, dragging your palms up your sides to cup your breasts, fabric bunching, teasing over your nipples as you sway to the beat. He lets out a sigh and shifts against the cushions, gaze rapt, burning with a smoldering heat.

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you slide into his lap, working your hips against him in a slow drag that twists his sigh into a low groan, pulled from deep in his chest. The guttural rumble vibrates through you, making your cunt clench and you shiver against him.

“That’s it,” you murmur as you slide your hands up his chest. One tangles in his hair, drawing a pleasured gasp from him with a sharp tug, while you arch your back, teasing your hard nipples across his chest, and grind down harder against him. A moan catches in your throat at the feel of his cock, hard and hot against the curve of your ass, even through the fabric of his trousers.

“Let me do all the work here, Daddy.” Your voice is low and dark in his ear, breath ghosting warm across his skin. He groans helplessly, cock jumping against you at your words, and your smirk turns smug. “You just sit back and enjoy the show.”

89 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

#3

A Change of Plans

Warnings: Teasing & innuendo, nudity, mentions of sex

Rating: T

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader

WC: 2,510

A/N: A shameless, tooth-rotting bit of NYE fluff. A few days late but hopefully not a dollar short. Inspired by an anon request. (Don’t worry, anon, I will get to answering all of it, but I needed this bit of soft NYE fluff with Barba in full first. I hope you enjoy this in the meantime!)

Also, for some background, if anyone else is a nerd like me, you'll notice that the 2nd William Lewis trial starts on Jan 2nd, and was only scheduled for that as of the end of Dec. So 100% a valid reason for canceling your NYE plans to work, I think.

Edit: Adding this as a fill for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo for the 'New Year's Eve' square! Wasn't planned, but a happy coincidence.

See the full post

108 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

#2

Can i ask for a hc about edging the hell outta Barba?

Oh fuck, yes, anon. Let’s do it.

See below the cut for what turn into something longer than intended.

He’s been incredibly difficult for the last week: short tempered, frustrated… more than a little bitchy, to be honest. Things are just not lining up on his current case, and he’s tearing his hair out at each new hurdle (and facing a smug Buchanan in court is just killing him).

He’s been taking it out on you, too. Not in big ways, but he’s short with you, purposefully misinterpreting things you say so he can snap back. He’s brusque and snide and just a little cruel.

Sure, you know where it’s coming from. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to let it slide.

You wait until Friday, when you know that if his work schedule for that night is thrown off, he’s still got time to make it up.

He gets home that night and, like usual, makes his first stop in the bedroom to change out of his suit. Except instead of an empty, dark room, he finds you, leaning back on the bed, done up in a corset and garter belt combo, thigh high stockings showing off your legs, a length of rope in your hands.

He pulls up short, eyebrows raised, as you get up slowly, backing him up until he hit the doorway.

You tell him he’s been very ill behaved this week. Bad tempered. Bitchy.

He scoffs.

But there’s a bright flash in his eyes, something close to relief. Like you're giving him a way out.

You tell him he owes you an apology. Doesn’t he agree? All he has to do is apologize and he can have you however he wants you. You hold the length of rope out in offer.

He rolls his eyes instead and shrugs. Says you’re just sensitive.

And oh that was not the way to go. You have his wrists up behind his back before he can blink. You ask him if is sure. Sure that he has nothing to say.

He tells you to do your worst, because you can’t possibly think he’ll ever say he’s sorry.

You bite the back of his neck in warning and step back before you can feel him shudder against you.

You tell him to strip and lay back. And you’ll see just which one of you will break first.

And god, he’s still so smug, even as he strips, lets you tie him to the bed.

And you start slow. Taking his abandoned tie and running it up his legs, over his hips. You scrape your teeth lightly over his nipples, then blow cool air over the sensitive flesh.

You go out of your way to tease, his cock filling, twitching. He’ll let a soft noise or two slip out, but he’s doing his best to resist. When you look up to meet him in the eye, when you ask if he’s ready to apologize, he stares back, challenging, a smirk twisting his lips. He’s daring you to do your worst.

So you do.

You work him over with lips and tongue and fingers. You tug his balls, rub his perineum, working his prostate from the outside.

He starts to slip a bit when you do that, hips flexing against the sheets. His cock is fully hard now, flagging heavily, resting in the crease of his thigh. But you ignore it.

You ask again and he just gives you a defiant tilt of his jaw.

So you grab the lube, slicking your fingers to tease gently at his hole while you scrape your teeth over his hips. Suck marks into his inner thighs.

This is where he slips.

You rub a finger over his prostate, just as you lick a seam up his balls and he cracks, letting a moan slip out. He is painfully hard, cock flushed a deep red, precum dripping and smearing across his hip. He twitches hard with each press against his prostate.

He starts to bargain. Offering himself, offering sexual favors in return. If you just touch him.

You say you’re happy to give him what he wants… he just has to apologize. He groans and shakes his head, taking deep breaths through his nose to try and pull back from the edge.

See the full post

110 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Soft hc for Rafael watching you get ready for date night?

He is almost done getting ready himself, doing up his cuffs, straightening his shirt, when he catches you out of the corner of his eye.

You're not dressed yet, just in your bra and panties as you do your make up. He's not even leering, he's not lingering on your curves (though it's not like he's missed them either). Instead he's just captivated by how you move, the grace in your gestures, the economy of movement. How you sway to the music you have playing the background, half singing along under your breath. You look up to catch his eye in the mirror and wink, and he's grinning back, not at all embarrassed that he's been caught watching.

He sits back to track your movements as you pull your clothes on, nimble fingers doing up buttons and ties.

He stays back, content to just watch, until you go to fasten your necklace (a thin chain with a single stone that he had gotten you that Christmas you had come up to the Bronx with him and spent the holiday with his mother and grandmother). You're fumbling with the clasp and then he's there, his hands warm on yours as he takes over, doing it up for you before he's smoothing them over your shoulders and down your sides to your waist, tugging you against him and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. Your shampoo mixed with the perfume you just put on.

"All set?" he murmurs, meeting your eyes in the mirror over your shoulder.

You turn your head to kiss his cheek, huffing a laugh against his lips as he turns his head to capture your mouth instead.

"Yeah, let's go. Before you get any ideas..."

233 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#haha that last one was such a short sweet little thing but you all loved it #clearly soft!Barba was what everyone wanted #tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #but i think A Change of Plans was my fav #at least of these

[lasthq]

⸻   KALEO STARK (EVAN MOCK) is looking for their ADOPTIVE BROTHER.  are they still out there? it’s said they’re 25-30 and are from LAS VEGAS, NEVADA.  they’ve been said to look like TAYLOR ZAKHAR PEREZ, DANNY RAMIREZ, JHARREL JEROME, TOMMY MARTINEZ, ANY POC FC. you DON'T need to contact the writer. (@ncsvrprises) 

kaleo & his brother were both adopted by the starks, an elderly couple who were both child psychologists, from the foster care system on o'ahu, hawaii. kaleo had a really rough start in the world & was essentially saved by the starks, so i imagine his brother had a similar start in life. when kaleo was fourteen (his brother would've been somewhat older, up to 19), the starks retired from their psychology practice & moved the family to the mainland, to a horse ranch they bought outside of las vegas, nevada. the stark family isolated there during the apocalypse and did not leave for almost ten years. one day, six months ago, the ranch was overrun by a wave of infected that had come from the city, and the starks (over seventy years old now) elected to stay behind, urging kaleo & his brother to run. the brothers fled the ranch and rode eastward on horseback for nearly two weeks when they stumbled upon novac together. kaleo sees his brother as a role model even though he'd never say it, and i can imagine he acts as sort of a guide for kal, despite having quite a bit of baggage himself.

#tumblr rp #new rp #tlou rp #appless rp #oc rp #wanted connection

[brandyllyn]

Raúl Esparza Character Masterlist

All of these are AO3 Links.

📚Completed Works

Most things I write are explicit and I’ve tried to tag / warn everything appropriately. Let me know if I missed something.

Hannibal

Bought and Paid For: Frederick Chilton x OFC  (Explicit)(13k words)[AO3] 📚

Disgusted by the idea of going to his first public event after the shooting alone - Frederick Chilton decides to hire the services of an escort for the evening.

Dove Grey Bows: Frederick Chilton x OFC  (General Audiences)(1k words)[AO3] 📚

Sequel to ‘Bought and Paid For’: Everything was going wrong, Chilton was definitely going to fire the person responsible - but did he have time to fix it?

Time’s Fool: Frederick Chilton x OFC of color (Explicit)(11k words)[AO3] 📚

A woman from Chilton's past has the power to throw his entire life into disarray - but will their unfinished business ruin him or save him?

Law & Order SVU

A Good Man Feelin’ Bad : Rafael Barba x OFC of color (Explicit)(44k words)[AO3] 📚*

He really should go out more often if girls - *women* he heard Olivia correct him in his head - were this forward now. Rafael had vague memories of ducking heads, making heated promises while trying to catch someone else’s lips with his. Stolen kisses given reluctantly and nearly always for a price. That had been before. Before he had given up his social life and moved to the Manhattan attorney’s office. It wasn’t this though, not frank proposals and sighs of disappointment. Not fingers tangled into his shirt on a busy street and eyes that couldn’t seem to look away from his lips. He licked at them unconsciously, watching her own part as he did so.

Hell, it was a brave new world out there - he fully intended to enjoy it.

Trouble in the Heights

Half Empty: Nevada Ramirez x f!Reader  (Explicit)(13k words)[AO3] 📚

It was supposed to be a fresh start, a new business and a new life in Washington Heights. But when Nevada Ramirez strolls through the door of your bar, demanding ten thousand dollars for his 'protection', you find yourself negotiating with your body. You can only hope you find the money before he loses interest.

Debt Makes Promises: Nevada Ramirez x OFC  (Explicit)(47k words)[AO3]📚

“What do you want?”

He tsked lightly under his breath, “You don’t get to ask any more questions. I do this for you, and you will do whatever I ask you to, yes or no?”

“I won’t break the law.” She stated firmly.

He laughed, a dangerous sound that sent a chill up her spine he could feel, “You don’t have a choice. Yes or no?”

He held his breath as he waited for her answer and hers hitched as she replied, “Yes.”

Further on the Edge: Nevada Ramirez x OFC  (Explicit)(21k words)[AO3] 📚

"Nevada smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling and she found herself thinking that he was actually kind of handsome, in a sexy “I’ll kill you for disrespecting me” sort of a way. Which was to say not at all. Not even a little. Her nipples were always this hard. Dammit why did she have to have a type?"

Drawn together by circumstance - Nevada meets a woman who gives him a run for his money. But she's not quite what she presents herself to him...

#Raúl Esparza characters #nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #frederick chilton #frederick chilton imagine #nevada ramirez x ofc #frederick chilton x ofc #nevada rameriz x reader #trouble in the heights fanfiction #hannibal fanfiction #rafael barba #rafael barba x ofc #rafael barba imagine #law and order: svu fanfiction

[thatesqcrush]

Ivy & the Ink

Nevada Ramirez x Reader. For VDay bingo, using “Yayo” by Lana del Rey. The wonderful @beccabarba​ requested:  Helloooo! When you have a moment to indulge me, and if you want to, I would love you to write Nevada x Reader in lingerie, with aim of seducing/impressing him (maybe they're a couple and they had a fight, or he's not noticed her before and she's determined he will? And he gives her everything he's got. "Let me put on a show for you daddy Let me put on a show Let me put on a show for you tiger, Let me put on a show... " Please and thank you.

CW: Smut - rough sex (hair pulling, some light smacking, spanking, etc.). There is some degradation talk, destruction of property, name calling, language. 

WC: 4.3K

****

You frowned as you glanced at the clock on the nightstand; it was late and your boyfriend still hadn't arrived at your apartment. It was normal for Nevada to work late, even disappear for a stretch of time. But something about tonight felt different - felt off. 

You reached for the phone and hit the redial number. The phone rang four times before going to voicemail and you sighed as you left yet another message. "Hey papi, it's me; I was just wondering where you were … it's lonely without you here. Just call me when you get this. I love you."

Your guts began to churn as your imagination raced; thoughts of Nevada hurt, or even worse, were the most prevalent. You opened your iPad and pinged his location. He was at the club, but earlier he had been at the airport. You furrowed your brows in confusion. ‘What the…?’ you wondered. 

You grabbed a sweater off the back of the chair with one hand, and your keys with the other. 

You were going to Nevada’s club. 

Any other time, you would not have been so dramatic, but recently things had become more tense;  you argued over the smallest of things. Nevada swore that all was fine between the two of you, but your paranoid side kept itching that something else was amiss. 

As you drove through the dark streets of The Heights, a thought hit you. 'What if Nevada didn't want to come home?' 

Despite the recent hiccups, you vowed to make things work, to make your lives together better because for you, Nevada was worth the sacrifice. He was the great love of your life that was never supposed to have happened in the first place – he was the one.

You met him while celebrating a friend’s bachelorette party - you had a one night stand with him and then on the ride home, you found yourself propositioned by him to be the Queen, to his King. To maintain appearances, you kept your place in Kew Gardens. Nevada had tried to convince you to live with him and let him be the provider for your life, but you refused. You enjoyed earning your own money and having a place of your own. You were loyal to him, but you wanted to keep your own independence. 

**

The drive from Queens did not take as long as you had anticipated. Traffic was fairly light for a Friday evening. You arrived at the club and spotted his black Escalade parked underneath the streetlight. In your jeans and cardigan, you appeared out of place amongst the other club goers who were dressed to the nines. The line wrapped around the block, but you knew you would not have to wait. 

You greeted one of the bouncers, while the rest of the club goers jeered at you and your innocent appearance. “Is Vada here?”

Miguel the bouncer, was burly and intimidating - but he didn’t frighten you one bit. He looked at you and didn’t greet you as he would have usually had.

“Vada’s here.” He replied after a beat, as he waved some people through.

“Last time I checked you weren’t made out of air. Can you move so I can get in?”

“I know for a fact he’s busy. Some personal stuff. You should go home.”

You furrowed your brows, fear lacing through you. Placing your hands on your hips, you jutted your chin at him. “You don’t tell Vada’s woman what to do.”

Miguel turned to you. He dipped his head to your ear, his voice menacing. “You don’t, but Nevada sure as hell does.”

You scoffed. “I am going in.” You pushed past him and he grabbed a hold of the back of your sweater. Instead you allowed for him to rip it off you, as you shoved the sleeves off. You gave him the finger before making your way inside. 

Everything at the club was seemingly normal. The music was loud, you could feel it vibrating in your bones. You pushed your way through the mass of bodies to the staircase which led to Nevada’s private office on the second floor.

The door was opened just a crack and you could see Nevada leaning against his desk, smoking a cigar while in a heated discussion with someone else. This was all normal to you - with the work he was involved in.

A brunette woman approached Nevada and pulled him into a hug causing you to freeze. You expected him to push away, but instead, he returned the hug to this mystery woman. Nevada dipped his head to whisper something in her ear and when he pulled away, you saw him smile and brush her dark hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

Your heart pounded against your chest and you wanted to puke. Chewing on your bottom lip, you continued to watch, unable to turn away. The woman reached for a glass of amber liquid that you realized Nevada had poured her.

At that moment Nevada pulled away and looked at his watch before reaching for his cell phone. He raised a finger to her and the woman nodded watching him as he moved, probably to sit at his desk. Sure enough, your cell phone began to vibrate but you chose to ignore it.

You turned back to the stairs and made your way back down and pushed through to the bar. You grabbed a seat and ordered a beer. You did not recognize the bartender and you realized they must have been a new hire. You were grateful for not being recognized. 

As you took a drag of your beer, the upstairs woman was standing beside you. She offered a friendly smile at you before signaling the barkeep. She ordered a shot of whiskey and handed a five dollar bill with the understanding that he could keep the change.

"You lost?"

You turned to her, eyeing the shot she had in her hand. "Excuse me?"

"Your outfit.” She laughed. “You don’t exactly fit in here."

You arched her brow at her comment. Chuckling, you nodded. "Not lost." With the tilt of your head, you chugged the beer and you tried hard not to grimace as the cheap, likely skunked beer made its way down your throat. 

“So, man trouble?” She guessed. 

“Something like that.” You commented as you ordered a shot of tequila.

You downed the shot, grimacing once more. You wiped your hand on the back of your hand and took in the woman fully. You could see what Nevada saw in her; the mere fact that she too had dark hair, like yours, was eating at you something terrible. Putting the glass down, you forced a sweet smile to the surface as you quickly scanned the bar for any instances of him returning. With no sign of him, you re-centered your focus, your eyes becoming sharp and steadying on her. "Do you have a boyfriend?”

"I do. He’s on his way. And something's got him in the mood tonight, if you get my meaning - he’s on his way actually. He’s like a drug; I can’t get enough.” she winked as she turned her head quickly, her shoulder length curls following her. You scowled as you gripped the glass tighter, your mind running.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the too-warm bar, but your hearing began to ring and your vision was white-hot. Ideas formulated and raced, seeking the perfect retribution. You were hurting, and the only way you could alleviate it would be to inflict that same pain on Nevada. And you knew just how to do it.

Now standing, you spotted Nevada as he approached the bar, the mystery woman waving to him emphatically. Your gaze was fixed on his line of sight, and you postulated that he didn't even see you. The excitement that the mystery woman held served as a knife burrowing deep into your heart, and the intense feeling of getting away increased.

"Hey, where are you going?" the mystery woman asked, turning back to you. You smiled once more and shook your head.

“Like you said, I’m lost. Nice talking to you."

**

Outside, you walked towards your car, the squeak of your sneakers being the only constant sound on the asphalt. Your intentions were clear now, and popping the trunk, you reached in to grab the aluminum baseball bat that you had been meaning to give as a gift for your nephew. Holding it in your hands, you gazed at the bat and felt the weight, swinging it to its full potential. With one hand, you closed the trunk and scanned the street, a devious smile crossing your lips. Your gait became easier as you approached, one thought being dominant as the gleaming Escalade that he so loved stood bathed in the street light.

For a split second, you paused. 'Come off it Y/N. You are better than this. This isn't you at all – you are putting everything on the line.' However, the thought left as quickly as it arrived. You could hear the woman’s comments echo in your mind and you couldn't help but think about what she said, about her and Nevada potentially sharing a bed – the bed you shared with him.

Rage filled you and at that moment, as your heart shattered into a million pieces, you swung the bat down, aiming for the headlights. The sound of glass shattering filled the night and clear crystals decorated the ground. Blood boiling,you swung once more, this time aiming for the side view mirrors. It took a few swings, but you were victorious in denting the metal and cracking the mirrors. Glass crunched underneath your feet as you continued your assault. The line of people still waiting to get in, gasped and shouted, lifting their phones to record you. You didn’t see it happen, but Miguel ran into the bar to get Nevada.

Moments later, you reached for keys that were dug deep in your pocket. You dug your key into the side of the door, scraping it. Figuring the damage you had inflicted still was not enough; you bent down and jammed the key into the back tire, puncturing it. Air hissed out of the tire and you moved to the front of the car, doing the same to the front tire.

You smiled in satisfaction as you took a step back to assess the damage you had done.

Nevada ran over to where you were standing, taking in the damage you had inflicted on his car. His eyes were wide and his face was beet red.

"Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?" Nevada yelled. You looked up and muttered an expletive as you dropped the bat, it clanking to the ground.

"What am I doing? I should be asking you the same thing! Actually, I don't have to since your whore told me what you two have been, and would be, doing!"

The mystery woman stepped out of the club and her eyes also widened as she recalled you from the bar.

"Puta!” You screamed as you grabbed the bat and swung at the car once more.

Nevada wrestled the bat out of your hands. Instead you chose to start punching and hitting him instead. He looked over his shoulder at Miguel. “Get Marisol out of here.”

“Oh that bitch has a name?” You shrieked once more. Nevada wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you easily off the ground.

"Let me go!" you furiously replied as Nevada dragged you back into the bar. "You cheated on me!"

Nevada was quiet as he dragged you up to the office. His blood was boiling and as he kicked the door in. He dropped you unceremoniously on the couch.

Nevada slammed the door behind him. “What the fuck Y/N!”

You looked at him incredulously, your eyes were red and swollen. “You cheated on me!”

Nevada sighed. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I saw you with my own eyes! I am not stupid!” You shouted. “When you didn’t come home, didn’t answer my texts, I tracked your phone. You were at the airport and then you came to the club. What is that all about? God, I can’t believe I let myself fall for you. I must be stupid after all!” 

You were now openly sobbing on his couch. “I thought you loved me.”

Nevada raised his hands to the back of his head, his eyes wide; he shook in anger, his face was beet red. "I do love you, you fucking loca. She’s my cousin.”

You stared at him, hiccupping. “What?” 

“She’s my cousin - she flew in to visit. She needed a ride from the airport since her boyfriend was put on a double. He’s a cop. I went to pick her up and then brought her here.”

“Your cousin.” You whispered. Everything suddenly made sense.

“I was not, nor would I ever, cheat on you. I want you, you crazy bitch.” Nevada grumbled.

“Then why was Miguel acting so shady?” You demanded. “He made it seem like I couldn’t be there.”

“Fuck if I know.” Nevada snorted. He poured himself a drink and then one for you. As he handed it to you, you eyed the blue inked snake tattoo on his forearm. You tilted the glass all the way back, drinking it in a single gulp. “You know your beer lines are skunked.” You replied quietly, still hiccupping.

“Noted.” Nevada replied quietly. He made a call, speaking in Spanish, which you didn’t understand. As he put his phone away, he sighed. “Let me take you back to Queens. They’re bringing up another car.”

**

Another black Escalade rolled up, identical to its predecessor - except not damaged. The ride was quiet and sufficiently awkward. Now in your apartment, Nevada shrugged off his clothes, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs. You washed your face and then shrugged off your clothes. Nevada climbed into the bed after you, and you were out like a light as soon as your head hit the pillow, exhausted.

**

In the morning, you woke up to the smell of eggs frying and strong coffee. You got out of the bed and followed the smell to the kitchen where Nevada was cooking. 

You stood on your tip toes and peered around his shoulder. “Smells good.”

Nevada let out a grunt. You frowned and wrapped your arms around him from behind. “I’m sorry for last night.”

Nevada turned to you, and turned off the stove. “I’m sorry too. I should have told you.”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your eyes were lost in the green pool of his eyes.

“You hungry?” Nevada asked.

“In a little bit - I want to go shower.” You replied. “Start without me.”

Nevada nodded and plated some food before going to sit on your couch. 

After you showered, you took your time trying to figure out what to wear. You pulled open your delicate drawer and began to leaf through the various garments. Your fingers traced over a lingerie set you hadn’t yet worn and you smiled. 

**

Nevada was still puttering around the kitchen when you joined him once more. 

“Hungry yet?” He called out from behind his shoulder, not looking over fully as he dumped the frying pan into the sink. You saw that he had a plate of food set for you but you weren’t hungry for that - not at least in that moment.

“Something like that.” You cooed. Nevada turned around and as he drank you in, the corners of his mouth twitched. 

You wore a mauve babydoll chemise set with silver lace trim and rhinestones embellishments. There was a sheer wrapped skirt and a matching panty with a thick lace band and thong cut out. You hadn’t washed your hair, just freshened it up with dry shampoo and you left it loose, the way he liked it. Your face was bare, except for a sheer plum lip tint. For what you wanted to do, lipstick would have just gotten in the way.

“Is this for me mami?” Nevada asked. His eyes were darkened with lust and through his briefs, you could tell that his cock had come to life, already straining against the fabric.

“Yes papi.” You cooed. “I wanted to show how sorry I was for everything. Let me put on a show for you daddy.” You trailed a hand across your decolletage and then down to the swells of your breasts that were already pushed up to an obscene limit thanks to the underwire and padding of the bra. 

“I should punish you.” Nevada growled. He didn’t miss how your eyes lit up at the suggestion. He took three wide strides to meet you. He ran a sole finger down your cheek and your eyes fluttered closed in response. That was short-lived as a sharp jolt of pain caused your eyes to fly open. Your head was bent to the side, your hair wound in Nevada’s fist. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, a shot of arousal shooting through you. “I need you. Take me right now.”

“I can’t believe you thought I would cheat on you. Why would I do that, when I have these nalgas right here?” Nevada growled, using his other hand to pull you close by grabbing the flesh of your ass. He let loose his grip in your hair and his other hand joined in rolling the fat of your cheeks. 

You could feel his hardened member press against the softness of your belly. The feeling caused your cunt to kick and your panties to dampen.

Nevada’s mouth dropped to the slope of your neck, the stubble of his beard grazing your skin. He sucked a dark mark into your skin. You let out a soft moan at the sensation as he continued to rub his beard against your skin, leaving rash marks in its wake.

He spun you around roughly, so your back was to his chest. You could feel the soft curls of his chest hair against your back. He cupped your tits roughly together, before pulling the cups down so your tits spilled out. He grabbed them roughly again, rolling and pinching your nipples until they were hardened buds. 

You pushed back against his cock, gyrating in small circles. Nevada held you against him, his heavy, muscled arm wrapped around your chest. He used his foot to nudge your legs apart and his other hand went to your pussy. He gripped it hard and you let out a small squeak. 

“This is my pussy, me entiendes?” Nevada growled in your ear. 

You let out a gasp as he pushed your underwear to the side and sunk his fingers up and into you. The strokes were initially languid, but then they increased in speed. You lolled your head back and his mouth found your neck once more, sucking a bruise into your flesh. 

Nevada removed his fingers from you and you whimpered. He brought his hand to your face and you could see the evidence of your arousal on his long digits. He released his other arm and brought his hand to your throat, gently tightening. He rubbed his fingers on your lips before pushing them roughly in your mouth. You let out a muffled moan as you cleaned his fingers. 

“Muy bien.” Nevada growled. He grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom. He wasted no time removing his briefs. His cock stood proud. The crown glistened with pre cum and you instinctively licked your lips, needing to feel the weight of his cock against your tongue.

He placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down so that you were on your knees and eye level with his cock. “Open your mouth.” He dragged his cock across your lips and instinctively they parted, ready to take his length into your mouth.

“Open wide mama. Gonna make you choke on this cock.”

You let out a squeak as he smacked his cock against your cheek. You opened your mouth wider and Nevada fed you his cock. He wrapped his hands around the back of your head and he pushed into your mouth further until your nose was nestled against the soft curls of his pubic hair. Your tongue lavished every vein and ridge. You used one hand to stroke him as you bobbed along his length. Spit was dribbling from the corners of your mouth and down your lingerie 

His hands gripped your head more tightly, holding you in place. Thrusting his hips forward, Nevada fucked into the back of your throat rough and fast, the sound of you choking and spluttering around him was drowned out by his grunts and groans. Spit covered your chin and your eyes watered, with tears running down your face. All you could do was close your eyes and take it. He took a step back and you gasped as air filled your lungs again. Nevada gave you a lascivious grin and he stroked your cheek, wiping a tear away. 

“Such a good girl taking my cock like that.” He praised and you keened in response. He offered his hand and he helped you stand.

Nevada claimed your mouth his. It was rough, all teeth and tongue. He nibbled on your lower lip before sucking on it. When he released your mouth, he gripped your cheeks with his forefinger and thumb and squeezed.

“I am going to fuck you now and you’re going to thank me for it.” He released your face and then gave you a small tapping smack on your cheek. 

You jutted your face at him and he did it again. “Get on the bed, loca.”

“How do you want me?” You asked as you scooted back on the bed.

“Por detrás. Take off the rest of your clothes.”

You did so and got on all fours, anticipating Nevada’s next move. You felt the bed dip with his weight and felt his cock rub against your ass. You heard the cap of a bottle open, followed by the sound of him slathering his cock. Two fingers then pressed against you and in you, massaging your walls. You dropped your head forward, moaning slightly.

“Is that what my puta likes? Getting fucked?” Nevada hissed. His mouth was on your ass, biting your flesh, marking you once more. 

“I need you.” You whined. “Give it to me.”

Nevada acquiesced and slid into your hot, wet cunt without warning, until he was fully seated. His hips nestled against the curve of your asscheeks and he gripped your hips hard. He set a pace, hard and fast as he wrapped a hand around your waist to pull you down onto his cock so it was nudging at your cervix with every thrust. He was deep and the stretch his girth gave you was glorious. A dreamy smile came across your face and you gripped the mattress below tightly. No one fucked you as well as Nevada did.

“Next time you think I would cheat on you, remember this.” Nevada growled as he drove his cock in and out of you. A sharp smack landed on your ass and then he repeated it on the other cheek, over and over again. The spanks that followed were delivered just as harshly, maybe even more so. He purposely hit your skin in the same areas as before. Your ass was red, hot and stinging.

“Fuck, oh yes, papi!” you whined. Nevada chuckled darkly. He had a knowing smile on his face.

“You want to cum, huh, mama?” 

“Please.” You begged. A hand slipped from your hips and found your clitoris, rubbing roughly. 

“You wanna cum on papi’s cock?” he asked once more, his breathing staggered.“Alright ma’, you can cum.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond as your walls clenched violently around his cock, gripping as your orgasm washed over you. 

As you came down from your high, Nevada had pushed you all the way down onto the bed, his weight completely on top of you. The changed position meant his thrusts were more shallow. You relished the feel of him on you. Primal, animalistic grunts were in your ear as he chased his own release.

You felt his hips still and with a roar, he pushed into you once more, spilling his hot load into you. 

Nevada leaned up on his arms, so his weight wasn’t fully on you. He pressed a kiss along your sweaty back before flopping over onto his back. You felt him pull you into his arms and you just allowed yourself to curl into him.

“Vada?” You murmured, as you stroked his chest hair.

“Yeah, mama?”

You looked up at him. “I’m sorry for everything, but especially for fucking up the car. Is it completely damaged out?”

Nevada shook his head as he sat up and grabbed a cigar from the stand next to you. He blew out a puff of smoke. “Nah, I got someone fixing it up already. By tomorrow it’ll be good as new.”

“I owe your cousin an apology.”

Nevada grunted. “You make one hell of an impression Y/N.” He pulled you tightly against him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 FIN

*****

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#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez and you #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez smut #thatesqcrushvdaybingo

[yougotthat-write]

Played (Nevada Ramirez x Reader) | Part I

Word Count: 4,300+

Warnings: 18+/NSFW, Female reader, adult language, mention of drug use/selling, prostitution, murder, violence, sexual situations, workplace harassment, etc. All Spanish is done through Google translate because I took French in high school :)

Summary: Nevada Ramirez is making a name for himself in the Heights. But he comes across trouble in the form of you.

Author's Note: This is part 1 of (I think) 5 that I have roughly planned out. Please peer pressure me into finishing it, thx.

***

There was nothing you hated more than squabbling around like the pathetic losers and posers that inhabited the world of crime since it could be said that you came from a very high caliber of criminals. You sat comfortably on a pedestal where you reaped all the rewards of your father’s illegal and unethical doings. Your father certainly spoiled you and your mother but that didn’t mean he didn’t inflict his knowledge onto you.

Growing up was a mash-up of big houses, fancy cars, shiny jewelry, large henchmen with equally large guns, constant questioning from various branches of law enforcement, and your father coming home with blood-stained clothes and bruised knuckles. As you got older, he explained to you how his job put a target on not just his back, but yours and your mother’s.

He was sure to give you the skills to take care of yourself but as long as he was still alive and kicking, he wanted to be sure that you didn’t have to do all of the heavy lifting. While you could sit and waste your time away on a sandy beach in a foreign land or an expensive and private club in a busy city, you were blessed (but your mother would say that you were cursed) with the same inkling of doing bad things just like your father.

You had been taken under your father’s wing and while he did want you to be safe, he was happy to have someone to pass down his growing empire of drugs, guns, girls, and everything else you could sell and smuggle. You were a quick learner and you had even helped your father with a plethora of business things - from talking deals and shipments to sending a message to those who needed a refresher in who the fuck they were dealing with.

You witnessed your first killing at the age of sixteen.

You committed your first killing at the age of eighteen.

The older you got, the more responsibilities your father gave you. You handled dealings with smugglers. You handled shipments when they came in, making sure whatever the product was - high end quality cocaine or scared women stolen from their homes across the sea - arrived in a timely fashion and that you weren't ripped off. You had even gotten into doing “interrogations” when information was needed and “punishments” when someone tried to double cross your family and ruin the empire that has been built.

***

It was a rainy Autumn day when you entered your father’s office in his Manhattan brownstone. He sat at his dark oak desk, smoke from a cigar swirling up towards the ceiling. Your mother would surely complain about the smell when she got home from her Pilates class. You perched yourself onto the wood, glancing over at the pile of papers your father was shuffling through. His graying brows were furrowed and the equally gray hair on his head was smoothed back, slick and unmoving.

You grabbed a trinket of your father’s desk, your fingers occupying themselves as you waited for your father to finally acknowledge you. The sound of the rain echoed into the large room, pattering against the large windows that stood behind your father’s sitting form. The lights in the city were trying to cut through the gray atmosphere.

Your gaze dropped down to your father when he cleared his throat. He was already looking at you and you set the trinket back onto the desk. “James said you wanted to see me,” you said. James was one of the few men under your father’s payroll that he trusted dearly with you and your mother’s life. Your father grunted, sliding a folder over to you.

You flicked the manila folder open and your father watched your eyes dart across the papers that were hidden inside. “I have a job for you,” he said. You hummed in acknowledgment. You knew he had something brewing for you. He had been more stressed than normal lately and it was beginning to worry your mother. She was always sure to bring it up over your morning teas together. You slid a paper filled with various numbers in your view. They were about drug shipments from the past six months. Your father would give out products to be sold but the amount of money coming back to him was wrong.

“Someone’s stealing,” you glanced up at your father from under your lashes. He took a long puff of his cigar. Your father sat there, stewing for a moment. He looked like a dragon, sitting in his lair, surrounded by his goods and burning away anyone who tried to steal from him.

“Up in Washington Heights,” he muttered, “A few months ago, I took a trip up there and to the Bronx to get some people to move products for us. Low-level dealers to get the word out.” He tapped the ash off his cigar, “Turns out there’s bigger fish over there that have been taking my product and my money.”

“Romanoff deals guns,” your brows furrowed as you went through the list of fellow criminals who worked in the northern part of Manhattan in your head, “Torres deals girls, Choi deals exotics,” your father nodded along, waving his free hand in a passive motion.

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, “Torres said it was some Cuban cockroach taking my drugs.” Your father reached for the folder again and you slid it back over. He moved some papers around before finding the one he needed. He slid a large photograph towards you. Your head tilted, trying to see the figure in it more clearly and straight-on as you grabbed it.

The photograph was black and white and you could tell it was blown up so you could see the pixelated face of a mystery man. He was dressed in a (you assumed black) leather jacket, lifting a pair of sunglasses up towards his forehead as a growing smirk was plastered on his face. You looked at the photo for a long moment. The man in it exuded an air of cockiness. Your gaze was broken by your father passing you more photographs.

Some were of the man getting in a dark and large SUV. Some were of the man entering a small bodega with a plethora of large Latino men. The last few were of the man in the back of a club. A woman dressed in an outfit that hid very little of her body was straddling his lap, lips on his neck. His hands were full with her ass, the same smirk that was seen in the first photo was on his face again.

Your tongue darted over your bottom lip. “Who is he?”

“Ramirez-” your father shuffled the papers again and you took one last glance over the club photo before setting it back down on your father’s desk, “-uh, Nevada-” he squinted at the paper before nodding to himself. “Hm, yes, Nevada Ramirez.”

“What do you want me to do?”

There was a long pause before your father sighed. He set his cigar on the marble ashtray you had gotten him when you went to Monaco a few years ago. He stood up from his chair and made his way around the desk and over to you. “Come, my love,” he held a hand out to you and you took it, using it to steady yourself when you slid off the desk. He rested your hand around his bicep, leading you out of his office as his hand patted yours in comfort.

He led you through your home, passing a den area, where a few of your father’s men were lounging in. Your father was sure to motion them to stay put when they laid eyes on him, ready to follow. Your father led you towards the kitchen. It was spacious and pristine. The housekeeper, Lettie, was wiping down the large island countertop and was surely about to ask your father if he wanted something to eat but he gave her a smile and another wave of his hand. She quickly left the two of you.

You slid onto a stool, an elbow rested on the island countertop, the marble glistening from Lettie’s secret ingredient counter cleaner. Your father made his way over to the stovetop, grabbing your mother’s well loved tea kettle and filling it with water. You watched him quietly flick the stove on and grab not two, but three teacups that were decorated in hand-painted peonies. Your mother’s favorite flower. She was sure to be home soon.

Your father made his way over to the stool next to yours and settled into it. His hands grabbed your free one and gave a squeeze. “Honey, I need you to get in close with this man,” his voice was quiet and his brow furrowed as he continued. “I don’t like pimping you out like some two-cent whore-” You chuckled, giving a sympathetic squeeze to his hand, “but apparently from the recon done on him, he seems to play into every cliché there is. He’s easily distracted by a pretty face.” Despite the patterning of the rain on the kitchen windows, you could hear the bubbling of the water in the kettle. It was building in its heat.

Your father continued, “He owns the club and I think that you could find a very good in that way.” You nodded. “Your mother doesn’t know about this and I don’t plan on telling her until after you leave, my dear.” You stifle a chuckle. “She wouldn’t like you going into something dangerous like this.”

“I’m sure you can soothe her worrisome mind.”

He smiled at you, giving a soft half-shoulder shrug before becoming serious again. “I’d like you to leave as soon as possible.” The kettle started to whistle. You got up swiftly before your father could even register the sound. He watched you now as you poured the steaming water into each cup and dropped a tea bag in each. You scooped two tiny cubes of sugar into your mother’s cup. Leaving hers on the counter, you held yours and your father’s in each hand and gave him the cup. He thanked you. “James and Hector will keep an eye on you for my peace of mind, but otherwise leave you to your own devices-”

As if on cue, your mother strolled into the kitchen, body drenched from the heavy rain outside. Her sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor, and she had a smile on her face when she saw the two of you. She stepped over to your father, who shot her a playfully annoyed look as her hair dripped onto him when she kissed him. You pointed over to her freshly made tea when she gave you a peck on your cheek. She cooed when she saw it and asked, “What are you two doing, hm?”

Your father just smiled at his wife, “Waiting for you to share a cup of tea with, my love.” He held his cup that was too big for his bearish hands. You couldn’t help but laugh as his pinky stood out when he took a sip. You took a sip of your own tea and listened as your mother caught the two of you up on the drama regarding her Pilates class.

***

The rain had finally let up after four days straight of it. New Yorkers were coming out of the safety of their homes, ready to get out and stretch their legs. Today was the day that you were to make yourself at home in Washington Heights. Before your mother left for her nail appointment, you had given her an extra long hug and kiss on the cheek. She looked at you for a long moment and you knew that she knew. She had been married to your father for a very long time and knew when he was planning something dangerous. And since you were her child, she knew when you were ready to do the same.

The days before you left your parents' brownstone in the West Village, you went over all the contents in that manila folder. You studied the man in the photographs. Your father was right when he said he was a cliché. He seemed to dress in all black. And you had snorted in amusement when you saw the gaudy chain around his neck that ended in a cross. It sat comfortably in a bed of dark chest hairs. Your father and him apparently did their hair similarly but while your father slicked his backward, Nevada slicked his hair over to one side. He had a decent amount of stubble and the thing that always seemed to play on his lips was that tantalizing and teasing smirk.

You had found a shitty shoebox of an apartment in the Heights on Craigslist. It was a few blocks away from Nevada’s club. Your father assured you that a monthly allowance would be delivered to you in cash by James or Hector. Duncan, your father’s documents and IDs lackey, had gotten you some brand new (fake) IDs. When you were all packed and ready to start your new life, James and Hector had dropped you off in Sugar Hill. Catching a cab the rest of the way was the safest thing to do. Hector had stopped you before you left, handing you a new phone. You gave them a smile and sent them off as you slid the phone into your pocket.

The shitty apartment somehow looked better in the shitty pictures you saw on Craigslist. The door creaked when you pushed it open and the smell of dirt and mold hit you like a bus. You scrunched your nose and dragged your bags into your new humble abode. You gave yourself a quick tour. The kitchen and living room shared one room. The kitchen area consisted of a fridge, stove, tiny sink, and a sliver of a counter. The rest of the room was open and the floor was carpeted in a dirty brown. A ratty couch was pushed up against one wall and opposite of it was a TV stand that housed a small flat screen.

You made your way towards the bedroom to see the damage there. You let out a sigh when you saw the small twin bed and beat-up dresser. Off to the side was a small bathroom with a toilet, shower, and sink. You were pretty sure that your mother’s closet was bigger than this whole apartment. You paused when you heard a loud bang and then some yelling. When you looked up towards the noise of what you assumed were your new upstairs neighbors, dust started to fall down from the ceiling and you sneezed. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you groaned.

***

You pulled your jacket around your body tighter as the cool afternoon air tried to nip at any exposed skin. You decided to venture out into the neighborhood. You certainly found the neighborhood cute and quaint in some areas. Bodegas made themselves at home at just about every street corner. You found a small coffee shop just down the street from your building and you sipped a warm tea latte as you made your way towards the club.

Gaudy neon lights splayed the name of the club and you pulled the heavy door open, trying to not spill your tea in the process. Once inside, you saw just how big and open it truly was. You saw a stage near the back where a DJ could easily blast songs with dirty lyrics. You saw smaller stages scattered around and you quickly realized that they were used for dancers to stand tall above club-goers and their grabby hands to dance proactively throughout the night. A large dance floor was in the middle of the room and pushed to one side was a long bar.

Sat around it was a group of three people. A Latino looking man dressed in a black v-neck who was drying glasses with a white rag and two girls dressed in tight clothing that clung to every curve of their bodies. One was black and the other was white. You stepped over to them, “Excuse me, sorry,” you waved a hand in greeting.

“We’re not open,” said the man with an eye roll.

“Hush Damon,” said the black girl. She stopped her task of wiping down tiny drink menus and turned in her seat towards you with a smile. “Can we help you?” The blonde white girl glanced over her shoulder at you with a small smile before going back to stuffing napkin holders.

You took a breath, “I was wondering if you guys were hiring.” Damon’s eyes slid from the glass in his hand and over to you. “I-I just moved into the neighborhood and I really need to find a job. Even if it’s for a few nights here while I find something else.”

“We’re not hiring,” Damon said.

The black girl didn’t acknowledge his quip. “We’re always looking for bottle girls. Or even dancers if you’re comfortable with that type of thing.”

“Dancers surprisingly don’t get grabbed as much as bottle girls,” the blonde spoke up, peeking over at you. “But dancing gets you tired faster.”

You hesitated for a moment. While you were certainly comfortable with your body and sexuality, you figured going down the bottle girl route would be better for not only your conscience but for your parents’ health. “I can be a bottle girl.” You said. “I was also a bartender back in college if you ever need backup.” You glanced over at Damon and he set the glass in his hand down sharply onto the bar top before grabbing another one to clean.

“Great!” The black girl smiled as she hopped off the stool. She stepped over to you and pulled you into a side hug. “I’m Aja. That’s Madison. And that hurricane of melodrama is Damon.” Your grip loosened on your half-empty drink as Aja set it on the bartop. Then she started to pull you towards the back of the club, past the DJ stage and up a small flight of carpeted stairs. You noticed how the area you were now in was nicer than the regular bar and dancefloor you passed. The VIP area was home to white couches and its own private bar.

Aja tugged you towards the back of the VIP lounge and towards a heavy door. Pushing through it, you came face to face with a tall flight of stairs. Aja noticed your pause before giving you a reassuring smile and pulling you up the steps. “There’s really no hiring process here,” She shrugs, “but the boss definitely likes to make sure he keeps up his club’s image.”

After speeding up the creaky steps and coming out to a landing, a small area that consisted of a couple of leather chairs, a large fake plant, and a closed door came into view. You glanced over at the chairs and saw two large men sitting in them. One was on his phone, scrolling through the device and the other was quietly snoring away, the brim of the man’s hat brought down to cover his eyes from the fluorescent lights that hung above them.

The man on his phone looked up and raised a brow. “Qué quieres, Aja?”

Aja’s hands rested on your upper arms as she showed you off to the unnamed man. “New hire, Julio. Boss needs to approve.” You saw Julio’s gaze drift down your body for a long moment before he grunted and nodded over to the closed door. Aja thanked him in Spanish as he got occupied on his phone again.

Aja stepped over to the door, manicured hand resting on the knob. She pressed her ear to the wood and knocked against it with her other hand. “Trujillo,” her voice was deeper and more sultry. You watched her lips pursed together as she listened for an answer, “I have someone you need to meet with.”

“Adelante,” came a voice. Aja smiled as she turned the handle. She closed the door behind you after you stepped into the decently sized office. Your gaze locked onto a man who sat at a desk. Not as big or fancy as your father’s. He sat back in his chair and he flashed Aja a wide smile. “Princesa,” he greeted her. His voice was deep and you kept yourself from rolling your eyes at his outfit.

It was the same outfit from all the photos you had studied. His hair was quaffed the same. His smile was just as bright. You broke your gaze from him and over to Aja as she stepped over to him. He pulled her into his lap and she let out a giggle. He started to whisper things into her ear, which she happily smiled and blushed too. You shifted your gaze from the two of them and over to the wall.

It housed various pictures of Nevada with different people. You noticed a picture of Nevada with a group of other Spanish-looking people and you could point out Julio being the one Nevada had his arm slung over in the photo. You saw another picture of Nevada - looking a few years younger - with an elderly woman. Perhaps a grandmother.

You jumped slightly when Nevada cleared his throat. Your head turned quickly towards the noise. Aja was promptly sitting on his lap, teeth digging into her bottom lip. One hand rested on her bare thigh while his other hand gripped his chin. He scratched at his stubble and didn’t hide the fact that he was taking in your appearance. “What’s your name, hm?” Your tongue flicked over your suddenly dry lips before you told him your name. He was quiet again. You shifted on your feet. He gave a pat on Aja’s thigh before whispering something in her ear again.

She promptly got up and made her way over to you. She gave you a reassuring smile and you watched her with slightly wide eyes. Nevada watched Aja step over to you, his eyes flickering down to her shapely ass every now and then. His hand encased his chin again, watching the two of you like a hawk.

Aja’s hands went to the top button of your coat, undoing it swiftly. Your brows flicked upwards, silently questioning her. She held your gaze for a few moments and when you didn’t say anything, her fingers worked their way down the rest of the buttons. You could feel your blood pressure rise. Aja was a very attractive woman and having her this close to you with her enticing perfume and Nevada’s lingering gaze, made your lungs lack the precious air they needed.

Once all the buttons were done, she stepped swiftly around you and stood behind you. Her hands grasped the fabric of your coat at the shoulders and helped it slide down your arms. Your head turned to the side to watch your coat be peeled from your body. When you looked back up towards Nevada, he didn’t smirk or frown. He kept his gaze steady with you and this was the first time that you were able to notice his eyes. The photographs you were given prior to this were black and white. They weren’t able to warn you of the deep green color his eyes got when he saw something that aroused him.

You heard the quiet thud of your jacket behind you and within seconds, Aja’s hands were back on you. You felt the heat of her body against your back. When Nevada spoke, his voice was thick, “Necesito ver mas.” Aja’s hands went to your hips and she began to guide them in a slow side-to-side motion. Sensual and teasing. The skirt you were wearing swayed around your upper thighs.

Aja’s hands then grasped the hem of your shirt. Her hands were surprisingly cold and you shivered against her. You felt Aja smile against your shoulder and she peeks over towards Nevada. Nevada’s brows flicked upward quickly, signaling to her to continue.

Her hands went up your body, tugging your shirt along with them. The air of the room hit your stomach and you watched Nevada shift in his seat. You took a deep breath as Aja stopped just under your bra. Nevada could see a sliver of lace that peeked out every now and then when you breathed.

Seconds passed slowly and you felt like you had been standing there in the middle of that room for hours. Aja’s breath brushed your ear, “Is this okay?” When you nodded softly, Nevada’s eyes seemed to go black. The hues of green got so dark that it looked like he was possessed. Aja’s hands started their journey upward again and she helped pull your shirt over your head.

When Nevada was in your sights again, he had leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk. He took in every inch of newly exposed skin. Your neck was flushed and he could see your chest inhale and exhale. The black laced bra held your breasts comfortably. Your stomach was smooth and led down towards your skirt. So flimsy and small. He wondered if you were wearing a matching panty.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and took in your shapely legs. “Spin.” He whispered. You almost didn’t hear him but Aja certainly did. She grabbed one of your hands above your head and held you steady as you slowly spun around for Nevada’s greedy gaze. When you finally faced him again, he only nodded and waved a hand dismissively before directing his attention back to the paperwork on his desk.

You slipped your shirt back on quickly as Aja picked your coat up off the ground and pulled you out of the office. Once the door was shut, she let out a quiet giggle, “You're hired.”

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez fic #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez x you #raul esparza #raúl esparza #trouble in the heights #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez oneshot

[adarafaelbarba]

Nevada Ramirez One Shots

💕 = VDay Bingo | 🌶 = Holiday Bingo | 🔥 = Kink Bingo | 🐭 = Disney Bingo | 🎭 = Musical Bingo | 🌹 = WiPs request

Bullseye (NSFW) 🔥

The Taste of You (NSFW) 🔥

Nevada's Songbird

The Grinch 🌶

"I look ridiculous" (NSFW) 🌶

#nevada ramirez #trouble in the heights #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez smut #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez one shot

[regrettablewritings]

Nevada Ramirez Masterlist

Updated: 07/24/2021

Imagines

N/A

Headcanons

Nevada Ramirez x Reader Ship Meme

Nevada Ramirez x Reader Ship Meme II

Nevada Ramirez x Reader Ship Meme III

Nevada Ramirez x Reader Ship Meme IV

NSFW HC Meme

Preferences

What Strange Being Are They? II

When They Get Jealous

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez imagines #trouble in the heights #regrettablewritings

[madpanda75]

“Pirate’s Plunder”

Nevada indulges the reader and decides to surprise her with a little pirate fantasy. This could be read as a stand-alone piece but it’s actually a sequel to my Nevada piece-  “Fifties Fantasy.”  Sorry it took me over a year to finally get to it and forgive my crappy rhyming. 😳

NSFW—Like super NSFW—There’s rough sex, nipple clamps, orgasm denial, spanking, bondage, and a little name calling (kinda got carried away with our dirty trash can) ❤️

Also I think I use this gif in every Nevada fic I have because HELLO, have you seen it?! The sinister smolder 🤤

Nevada’s unexpected surprise had thrown you for a loop—records management, projection data, fiscal year reports—that’s what you should have been focusing on, but instead your eyes kept wandering over to the black velvet box and that cryptic message in a bottle. Grabbing the bottle in question, you popped off the cork and pulled out the note, re-reading it for what must’ve been the hundredth time that afternoon.

Wear this when I plunder your booty -Captain Nevada

A shiver shot down your spine. You crossed your legs, already feeling your core begin to pulse with need, knowing your boyfriend never half-assed anything. Go big or go home was his life motto. Whatever he had planned up his sleeve, you knew to expect the unexpected.

Just when you were seriously contemplating leaving the office early to go home, your co-worker, Emma, approached your desk. “Hey, Y/N. A bunch of us were going over to Keybar after work. Wanna come with?”

“Thanks, but I have plans tonight with my boyfriend,” you replied.

“Ah yes, the elusive boyfriend.” Emma gave you a knowing smile. “Would this have anything to do with that mysterious package you got today?”

You blushed and pushed up the bridge of your dark-rimmed glasses. “Maybe.”

“Well, have fun tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winked and walked away.

One agonizingly slow hour later, it was time to leave. You all but leapt from your chair, snatching up your coat and purse and sprinting to the elevator. “Have a good weekend!” you called out over your shoulder.

You exited the building only to discover yet another surprise, Nevada’s driver, Manny, waiting for you next to a black SUV Escalade. “Manny, what are you doing here?”

“Nevada called me. Said I should come pick you up.” He opened the door to the backseat and motioned for you to get inside.

A sigh blew past your lips. You may have been the girlfriend of Trujillo, but your independence was important to you and Nevada knew that. “Thanks, Manny. Pero I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself. Home’s just a few blocks away. I can walk.”

Manny chuckled and shook his head. “Nevada thought you’d say that. He told me to give you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope.

You knitted your brows in confusion and opened the envelope to find a note. The note looked similar to the one you had received that afternoon. The paper had burnt edges and looked to have been dyed with coffee or tea, giving it an aged weathered appearance. Upon reading the letter, that familiar tingle reappeared from earlier.

Ahoy there, Mami. A treasure hunt there be. A treasure to find that you’ll want to see. Stop being stubborn and get in the car with Manny. Otherwise, I’ll have to whip your hot fanny. He’ll take you to the next clue at the dock. And then you’ll be one step closer to my cock.

You shoved the letter back in the envelope and got in the backseat of the car, looking expectedly at Manny. “What are you waiting for? Vámonos ahora!”

“Por supuesto, we’re on our way.” Manny shut the door for you before getting in the driver’s seat, the tires screeching against the pavement as he pulled away.

*****

You stared out the window while Manny was driving, surprised that he was heading east towards Kip’s Bay. Nevada had several warehouses by the docks at North River Piers which was on the opposite side of Manhattan. You had assumed that’s where Manny was taking you. Instead he pulled into a place called The Water Club on the East River, an exclusive property where celebrities, politicians, and socialites would dock their yachts.

“We’re here,” Manny said, parking the car.

You looked around, completely stunned. “This is where I’m supposed to meet Nevada?”

“Not exactly.” Manny got out of the car and opened the back door for you. “That is where you’re supposed to meet Nevada.” He pointed to a large luxury yacht. The three storied, sleek yacht took up almost half the dock. The vessel was jet black with silver accents and decorative blue auxiliary lighting, giving it a glowing, sexy, and somewhat sinister appearance. If Nevada were to have a yacht, there was no question that this would be it. Several people dressed in evening gowns and tuxedos walked past and gaped, speculating as to who the owner was.

In awe of the behemoth of a ship, you practically stumbled out of the car and was greeted by an older man with a friendly face dressed in a white captain’s uniform. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Y-Y-Y-Yes,” you stammered.

He smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Captain Matthews. Mr. Ramirez is expecting you. Won’t you please follow me?” You shook his hand and followed him, ignoring the hushed comments and shocked faces of passersby.

“Have fun, Y/N,” Manny called out before getting back into the car and driving away.

You boarded the yacht and were greeted by another member of the staff. “Ms. Y/L/N, welcome aboard the Black Pearl.” You bit back a laugh. Of course the ship was called the Black Pearl. “I have a message for you from Mr. Ramirez,” she said and handed you a note rolled up and tied with a black ribbon.

Your hands were shaking as you undid the ribbon. Unscrolling the note, you saw it was another clue.

Welcome Aboard! Keep looking for clues, but don’t get stressed. You’ll find another when you get dressed.

“Perhaps, you’d like to freshen up,” the crew member said.

You looked up from the note, realizing you were still in your office attire. “Oh...ummm I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Don’t worry. I think we have something in your size,” she reassured you with a wink. You smoothed down your modest pencil skirt and adjusted your glasses before following her down a long corridor.

Your pace slowed as you took in your surroundings—dark cherry wood with gold finishings, marble floors, luxe gold and blood red pillows adorning the furniture. Never in your life had you seen such opulence. The staff member stopped in her tracks and cleared her throat, waiting for you to catch up with her.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, quickening your steps.

She smiled and opened the door to a large dressing room with floor to ceiling mirrors and a vanity. You saw your suitcase along with your toiletry bag in the middle of the room. “I’ll let you change. I believe there’s an outfit for you in the closet.” She closed the doors behind her.

Once you were left alone, you went over to the closet and slid open the door to find a short, skimpy pirate costume dangling on a hanger. One thing that Nevada found beguiling about you were your fashion choices. During the day, you were demure, modest, almost prudish. Today for example, you had opted for a sweater set and pencil skirt with glasses and your hair swept up in a bun. But by night, you transformed into a sultry siren, choosing short, skin-tight dresses, high heels, and bold makeup.

When Nevada first met you at one of his clubs, you were wearing a short red mesh dress with panels to strategically cover your more private areas. “Have to leave a little to the imagination,” you said to Nevada with a flirty smile when he remarked on your dress. The next day he stopped by your office to invite you to lunch and nearly walked past you, doing a double take at your turtleneck and floor length skirt.  “I’m a woman with many facets. I can dress like a mousy librarian or be a wanton vixen if I want to be,” you explained. And just like that Nevada was hooked.

After changing, you looked yourself over in the mirror once more. Nevada had chosen an extremely short yet virginal white peasant dress with a sweetheart neckline, lace trim, and bustle. Complimenting the dress, was a black leather corset that pushed your breasts up practically to your chin, thigh-high black leather boots. You had also put on a tricorn pirate hat and the large diamond necklace that he had given you earlier. Swapping your glasses for contacts, you did a sexy smokey eye makeup and let your hair down in loose waves.

In the mirror’s reflection, you spied another rolled up note on the vanity. Unraveling the black ribbon, you unscrolled the paper and read the clue.

Fuck, you hot. Now hark me a fable. There once was a clue who hid by a table.

As if on cue, there was a sharp knock on the door. “Ms. Y/L/N. If you’re finished changing, I can take you over to the dining area,” said a voice from outside the dressing room.

Your pulse was racing as you followed the crew member to the dining room. Every step you took meant you were one step closer to Nevada. The crew member stopped at a doorway and motioned for you to step inside before abruptly leaving. You nervously entered the dark, empty room. One wall on the opposite side was made entirely of glass reflecting the city lights of the Manhattan skyline, casting shadows against your skin.

Nevada was nowhere in sight. That’s when your nostrils were filled with a familiar scent. That smoky, earthy, somewhat sweet scent of a cigar and suddenly you realized that you were not alone. You turned and saw a shadowy figure sitting in the far back corner of the room. There was a red glow from the burnt end of a cigar and smoke billowing around.

That shiver that had been following you all day, once again shot through your core. “Nevada?”

Nevada stood up and stepped out of the shadows, flicking on the lightswitch. “Ahoy there, Mami.”

Very few things in life rendered you speechless and Nevada’s appearance was definitely one of those things. He was dressed in brownish gray breeches, suede black leather boots with a large bell cuff, and a weathered white linen poet shirt, ripped open to reveal his chest, his gold cross glinting against a smattering of chest hair. Over top of the shirt was a faded aubergine waistcoat layered with a red sash and a leather belt around his waist. A wide red bandana was wrapped around his head along with a tricorn leather hat. He even had an earring and wore smudged black eyeliner.

A heat began to pool between your legs. “You look so—”

“Sexy, handsome, ridiculous,” he said with a smirk as he approached you.

“All of the above and then some, minus the ridiculous.” You shook your head in disbelief, Nevada made one hell of a pirate.

He held you at arm’s length, licking his lips as his eyes raked over your form. “Turn around for me. Slowly.”

You bit your lip and blushed, following his command. Nevada groaned and grabbed your hips, pulling you flush to his body. “Mami, you make me wanna shiver my timbers.”

You snorted a laugh and rested your forehead against his chest, your whole body shaking as you tried to contain your giggles, even Nevada began to laugh. “Oye, don’t joke. I’m getting into character and shit.” He lightly fingered the diamond necklace clasped around your neck. “You look so—“

“Alluring, titillating, smoking hot.” You looked up at him and batted your lashes.

“All of the above”—he leaned down and ghosted his lips over yours— “and then some.”

You hopped on the table and spread your legs, revealing that you weren’t wearing any panties. “Want a little appetizer before dinner?”

Just then a bird squawked. Peering over Nevada’s shoulder, you saw a large gold cage with a bright green parrot inside. Squawk “Fuck her brains out!” Squawk “Fuck her brains out!”

You arched a brow. “Looks like the parrot gets it. What do you say, matey?” You sucked on your index finger and trailed it down your body, rubbing soft circles on your clit.

His eyes darkened. In an instant, he reached out and pulled your hand away from your center. Kneeling down, he spread your legs even further apart and kissed a path up your inner thigh. You threw your head back and sighed, “Oh, Nevada.”

He hummed in approval, sucking a mark on your tender flesh as his mouth moved closer to where you needed him the most before he stopped his ministrations.  

“Wha-,” you breathed. “No. Why did you stop?”

“Dinner first,” he said, standing up.

You gripped his shirt and tugged him closer to you. “Don’t you want me,” you whined, kissing and nibbling every inch of his exposed skin your lips could reach.

He gripped your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze.  “Careful, Mami. You’re playing a dangerous game,” he growled before kissing you hard on the mouth, his tongue tangling with yours, drinking you in. All too soon he stopped with a teasing grin on his face. “Besides, you’ll need your strength for what I have planned.” He moved away to pull a chair out, motioning for you to sit.

You pouted but obliged him. He sat down next to you as a waiter came in with a rolling cart, setting a plate down in front of you and then Nevada. “Grouper. Why am I not surprised,” you softly said, looking down at the delicate fish simmering in a bouillabaisse.

“Why not? We’re on the water. Seems appropriate.” Nevada shrugged and sipped his whiskey, watching the waiter pour you a glass of wine. More focused on your breasts than the wine glass, he nearly poured the wine into your lap. “Eyes back in your head, cabrón or I’ll scoop them out with a spoon and turn them into earrings for her,” he barked at the man.

You cringed. “Coño, Papi. Do you have to be so graphic?” Taking the wine bottle from the shaking waiter, you softly smiled at him. “I think I can pour my own glass. Thank you.”

Nevada rolled his eyes as the waiter scurried away and raised his glass to you. “Cheers, matey.”

You giggled and clinked your glass with his. “Cheers.”

It was one of the most romantic and interesting dinners you ever had—soft lighting, a breathtaking view, and a drop dead sexy pirate as your date. While the food was delicious, you were more interested in what Nevada had in store for you afterwards than the actual meal. How many times do you get the chance to fuck a pirate?

“What’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” he teased, amused by how you were scarfing down your food. But underneath his cool demeanor, he was just as excited to get you in the bedroom. His cock had been hard from the moment he saw you in that skimpy pirate wench outfit.

“I’m done,” you announced, pushing your plate away.

“Paciencia, Mami. What about dessert?”

“You could have me as dessert.” Sitting up from the table, you walked over to Nevada and straddled him, gasping when you felt how hard he was under his breeches. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s impatient,” you purred, grinding against his erection.

He groaned and rested his head back against the chair, giving into you for a moment before gripping your hips and halting your movements. “Not so fast. You still have one more clue.” Reaching into his waistcoat, he pulled out another rolled up slip of paper.

Still sitting in his lap, you hastily unscrolled the paper and read the clue:

Well done, Mami. You’re moving ahead. A secret is written where ye go to bed.

“By any chance do you know where the bedroom is?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and planted a searing hot kiss on his lips, running your hands underneath his shirt.

“How about I personally escort you there,” he mumbled between kisses. “Hold on tight.” He gripped the backs of your thighs and stood up from the table with you in his arms. You squealed in surprise and wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing down the slope of his neck, sucking a mark into his skin as he carried you to the bedroom.

*****

Nevada braced you up against the door, his mouth latched onto yours as he turned the knob and walked inside. “Welcome to my Captain’s quarters,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. The bedroom—like the rest of the yacht —was massive and luxurious with a sitting area and a four poster king size bed. He sat you down on the bed’s red satin sheets next to a small treasure chest. “Go ahead and open it.”

Upon opening the chest, you pulled out nylon rope, diamond embellished nipple clamps, and a sleek black vibrator. You looked up at Nevada with lust-filled eyes, your arousal already peaked at the mere thought of what was to come.

He gave you a wicked grin. “Don’t forget the note.”

Peering inside again, you noticed a slip of paper nestled in the chest’s velvet lining. You took it out and giggled when you saw what it read:

Aargh, so you found it. I’m piratey-proud. As a toast to your courage, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll scream out loud.

“Piratey-proud,” you teased. “En serio?”

Nevada rolled his eyes. “Oye, you think it’s easy coming up with all these clues. Coño only so many words rhyme with cock. And just remember one thing.” He got up from the chair and reached for your arm, pulling you off the bed, your body pressed against his. Brushing your hair back from your shoulder, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You may have been on a treasure hunt, but you’re my captive. ¿Me entiendes?”

A shaky breath blew past your lips as you nodded your head. His grip on your arm tightened. “I need you to use your words,” he growled, his nose skimming the delicate slope of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume.

“Y-Y-Y-Yes, Nevada,” you stammered.

“That’s Captain Nevada to you. And as captain, I think I need to plunder your booty.” He dropped a kiss on the sensitive spot below your ear. “Now strip for me.” Releasing you from his grasp, he sat back down and looked up at you expectantly. “¡Ahora!”

“As you wish, Captain Nevada.” You would have said ‘aye aye, sir,’ but you didn’t think you could manage saying that with a straight face.

You took off your hat then slowly undid the leather corset, letting it drop to the floor. Just as you were about to slide off the short peasant dress, Nevada stopped you. “Turn around.” You blushed and turned your backside to him, sliding the dress off your frame. Goosebumps erupted over your exposed skin. He hummed in approval as he drank you in from head to toe. “Leave the boots on.”

Feeling bold, you widened your stance and bent over, running your hands up the backs of your thighs, spreading yourself for Nevada. You looked back at him and winked. “Like what you see, Captain Nevada. You’re not gonna make me walk the plank now, are you?”

With a crook of his finger, he beckoned you over to him. Swaying your hips, you walked over to where he was sitting. He took your arm and positioned you over his lap with your ass raised in the air, his growing erection pressed against your lower stomach.

“Remember our safe word,” he said, grabbing fistfuls of your flesh.

“Yes. Flan.”

“Good girl.” Nevada smiled. Flan was one of the first dishes you cooked for him and his favorite dessert. Although now he would say you were his favorite dessert. When deciding on a safe word, you thought it was sentimental and also very tongue in cheek.

You pouted and looked over your shoulder, giving him big doe eyes. “How many?”

“How many do you want?”

“Ten,” you blurted out.

“Ok, ten it is. Brace yourself, Mami,” he warned. “Count them out for me and you better not miss or I’ll have to start all over again.”

The first smack delivered on your right cheek caused you to gasp in surprise. “One,” you squeaked out. He mirrored his actions, smacking your left cheek. “Two.” You waited in agony for the third smack. The fourth smack was quicker and the fifth was delivered over both cheeks. Over and over again, he continued to spank you, your body rocking forward with his movements. Each smack harder than the next. You whimpered as he spanked you in the same spot he had previously. “Eight.”  

By this point, you were soaking, embarrassed by how turned on you were. “Two more,” he said, smacking your ass so hard you nearly fell off his lap.

“Nine,” you moaned.

His hand trailed down to between your legs. “Such a little slut. Look how wet you are.” He delivered one final smack right on your clit.

“Ten!” you sobbed.

“Good girl,” Nevada praised you and massaged your now reddened globes, admiring his handiwork. His one hand moved to stroke your hair before tugging on the soft tendrils, lifting your head up. “Now get on the bed,” he coldly commanded.

You slowly stood up, your ass stinging and sore from the spanking you had just received and made your way over to the bed. As soon as you had laid down, Nevada stood up and grabbed the rope. Pulling a switchblade out of his pocket, he cut four strands of equal length. He then took hold of your wrist and bound it with the rope before tying it to the bedpost. You watched as he did this to your other wrist and then your ankles, until you were tethered to all four posts, spread eagle and exposed.

Slowly he circled the bed, a smug smirk firmly planted on his face. “X marks the spot.”

You mewled and tried to wiggle in your restraints, aching to be touched, to be fucked, for anything. Your entire body shivered in anticipation. “Captain Nevada, please,” you whined.

“Captain Nevada, please,” he mocked you in a high-pitched voice. Kneeling on the bed, he brought his face to yours, giving you a wild, hungry kiss—nibbling on your lips, sucking on your tongue then pulling away all too soon. His green eyes were practically black, consumed by lust. “You want my cock. You have to beg for it and anyways, I’m not ready to give it to you yet.” He stood up and took off his hat followed by his red bandanna. “First, we’re gonna have a little fun.”

You whimpered as he took the bandanna in his hands and placed it across your eyes, blindfolding you. Your breathing quickened as darkness enveloped you, all of your other senses becoming heightened.

Nevada straddled your stomach and lowered his mouth to your chest, sucking on your nipple, raking his teeth over the hardened bud. You threw your head back and wailed as he did this to both your breasts before taking one of the nipple clamps and clamping it on to your stiff peak, adjusting the clamp with a thumbscrew. You cried out, feeling the sensitive skin being tightened and pinched, walking that tightrope between pleasure and pain.

“That feel good, baby,” he purred, putting on the other nipple clamp.

“So good,” you managed to choke out.

You felt Nevada move as he reached over to the nightstand followed by a buzzing noise. With the vibrator in his hands, he pressed the tip against one of your clamped nipples causing you to nearly scream as he circled your areola. He then dragged the vibrator over to your other breast, repeating his actions. You were a panting mess, lost in the throes of ecstasy when he turned off the toy and moved between your legs.

Spreading your glistening lower lips, he traced your entrance with his finger. “You don’t come until I tell you to or you’ll be in even more trouble than you are now.”

You nodded your head vigorously. “I promise, Captain Nevada. I won’t come until you tell me I can.”

“That’s my good little pirate slut,” he replied and slowly plunged his finger into your sheath, massaging your inner walls. “Fuck, you have the hottest pussy.” Pulling his finger out up to the first knuckle, he thrusted into you once more, slowly rubbing circles on your clit with his calloused thumb. He added another digit, making a v-shape with his fingers as he stretched you. A low primal moan escaped your lips. You tried to buck against him, but being tied up left you completely at his mercy.

A tension began to build in the pit of your stomach. “C-C-C-Captain,” you whimpered. “I’m close.”

He immediately stopped. “Good girl.”

“How many more times?” you breathed

Nevada cruelly laughed. “We’ll stop when I say we stop. Now, let’s try the vibrator, shall we?” With a single click, he turned the toy back on, dragging it up and down your labia before pressing it inside your core. You lost track of how many times Nevada edged you. He would fuck you with the vibrator until your legs would shake then stop and use his fingers, adding another digit every time he felt your walls flutter against him. Every now and then, he would pause and twist the thumbscrews of your nipple clamps, sending a jolt straight to your core.

He watched as you moaned and writhed in pleasure. When he first started to edge you, you would growl every time he stopped. As time passed, your growls became whimpers, pleading for him to let you come. At which he would only mock you and turn the toy onto the highest setting or swipe your clit faster.

Your inner thighs and the sheet beneath you were completely soaked. Your lower lips and clit were red and swollen, having been teetering on the edge for who knows how long. A sheen of sweat had broken out over your flushed skin. “Nevada, please,” you cried, completely forgoing the captain by this point.

“One more time, Mami.” He kissed your inner thigh. “Let’s try four fingers this time.” He filled your pussy with four of his long, thick fingers, thrusting them in and out. The sounds of your wetness and cries filled the room. With his other hand, he switched the vibrator back on and pressed it against your clit while crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, massaging your g-spot.

“STOP! I’M GONNA COME!” you screamed.

Nevada immediately stopped and turned the toy off, moving out from between your legs to lay down next to you. “I’m gonna pull the blindfold off. Ok?” he said with a flicker of warmth to his tone, untying the bandanna from around your head.

You blinked a few times, your eyes readjusting to the light, your makeup completely smudged.

“Awww pobrecita,” Nevada cooed, running a single digit up your body, stopping to tighten the clamps one final time. You gasped, your whole body shuddering. “Que quieres, mi amor. Dime.”

A sob escaped your lips. “Please, Captain Nevada. I wanna come. Please fuck me and let me come on that big fat cock, Papi. Dame tu pinga. ¡Te necesito!”

“Tsk, Tsk, Tsk.” Nevada clucked and shook his head disapprovingly. “Such a slut for my cock, huh?”

“Yes! I’m your little cock slut. PLEEEEAASSE,” you begged as a single tear ran down your face.

Nevada caught the tear on his tongue as he kissed your cheek before making a show of licking all four of his fingers, dripping with your juices. “Mmm, every part of you tastes so sweet.” He sat up and unbuttoned his breeches, moving to straddle your chest as he freed his rock hard erection. “Go ahead, baby. Get it nice and wet.”

His cock brushed up against your face. A single drop of precum oozing from the slit. You lifted your head up and swirled your tongue around the tip, moaning as his musky, salty taste flooded your mouth. Nevada bucked his hips forward, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth. You eagerly bobbed your head, tracing every vein, flicking your tongue against the prominent  ‘v’ on the underside of his hot and heavy member.

He groaned loudly, almost coming at the sight of you tied up with his cock disappearing past your lips, mascara running down your face and drool dribbling down your chin as you swallowed him down again and again.

“You love sucking me off, don’t you?” he purred.

You whined in response and sucked him harder, gagging as his crown constricted around the back of your throat. He leaned forward and clutched the headboard, feeling his own orgasm quickly approaching. “Enough,” he said in a strained voice and pulled himself out of your mouth.

Grabbing the switchblade he used earlier, he cut the ropes around your ankles and positioned himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders. “You’ve done so well tonight that I’m gonna give you a reward,” he said, running his length against your slit, brushing up against your swollen, angry-red, throbbing clit. “You can come as soon as I start fucking this sweet pussy of yours”— he smacked the head of his cock against your knot of nerves, making you mewl in response— “And when you do come. You better come hard for me. I want everyone on this ship to know who makes you feel this good. Cream on this cock for me.”

“Yes, Captain Nevada. I’m gonna come so hard for you. I promise,” you cried.

With a devilish smirk, he guided himself into your entrance, penetrating your core. All the breath had been knocked out of your lungs as soon as he bottomed out. He pumped himself into your sheath. One. Two. Three times and you were undone.

Nevada always seemed to find a way to outdo himself with his bedroom tricks. You had come hard before, but nothing like this—your muscles seized; body contorted off the bed; tears streaming down your face as you screamed his name in ecstasy. Your orgasm was never-ending. You kept coming and coming. You didn’t just see fireworks, the whole damn world exploded before your eyes.

He continued to thrust into you harder and harder, prolonging your pleasure. Feeling your slick walls grip him was quickly sending him over the edge. “Oh God, Y/N! Fuck! I’m gonna come,” he groaned loudly, snapping his hips forward. The sound of wet skin slapping skin reverberated around the room. His stomach muscles clenched as he roared his release, his seed splashing against your cervix. He grunted and moaned like an animal, filling you with his cum, his movements stuttered before sinking into your sheath one final time.

With his cock stilled nestled deep inside you, he slowly removed the nipple clamps. The rush of blood coursing back to your over-sensitive buds caused another orgasm to ripple through you. Nevada shuddered and growled, your pussy milking him one final time.

Grabbing the knife once more, he cut the ropes at your wrists and slowly pulled out of you. You were about to sit up when he stopped you. “Wait,” he commanded, sitting back on his haunches with one hand on each of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide. “I want one more from you. Rub your clit for me.”

Trailing your hand down to the apex of your thighs, you began to rub circles on your clit. Nevada’s eyes were transfixed. “That’s it. I want you to come with my cum inside you,” he purred. Your breath came in short pants as you furiously worked your fingers. A string of curses tumbled from your lips. You didn’t think you could come again, but your body betrayed you and soon you were swiping across your quivering pink pearl harder and faster.

Your eyes slipped closed as your moans became louder and more high-pitched. Nevada slapped the inside of your thigh. “Oye! Look at me! I wanna see that pretty little face come for me!”

You gasped, struggling to focus on Nevada as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. “Oh Nevada! I’m coming! I’m coming!” you sobbed, your fluttering muscles causing his cum to seep out of your wet, pulsing pussy.

“That’s it, baby. Drip for me,” he growled and adjusted himself, already feeling his cock stir back to life, watching you pleasure yourself for him.

You slowed your motions, coming down from your release. Your body melted into the mattress, so exhausted, you could barely move. Nevada hovered over you, kissing you deeply before helping you to sit up, untying your wrists and ankles.

“Do you need anything, mi amor?” he asked while unzipping your boots and gently massaging your calf muscles.

“Some water and your leather jacket,” you softly replied.

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” He kissed your forehead and went to a large armoire, pulling his jacket out and going over to the mini bar for a bottle of water. “Here you go, Mami.” He draped his leather jacket over your shoulders and handed you the water. “I’m gonna go run a bath, ok?”

You nodded and took a sip of your water. Sliding your arms through the sleeves, you wrapped yourself up in his leather jacket, snuggling against it. The jacket was comforting—soft and worn and smelled like Nevada, spicy yet sweet. After a rough sex session, he was always attentive to your needs, knowing that the emotions and physical exertion could be a lot to handle. You would often ask for a moment to yourself, just to process what had happened.

Once the bath was drawn, Nevada came back into the bedroom and carried you bridal-style into the bathroom. You slid the jacket off and stepped into the warm bubbly water, your muscles sighing in relief.

Stripping off his clothes, Nevada stepped into the tub with you. Without saying a word, you began to wash each other.  Both of you wiped the smeared makeup off each other’s faces. He gently massaged your scalp while shampooing your hair. You lathered his body, feeling his hard muscles relax beneath your palms. When you were finished, you laid in the tub together, your back flush against his chest, his arms wrapped around you with nothing but bubbles as a barrier between you; the steam still rising from the hot water.

You looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you for today. It was really wonderful.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, dropping a soft kiss on your shoulder. He held you close for a moment before speaking again. “You know, all this talk about going on a treasure hunt and shit. I just want you to know that you’re my treasure.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wow, first the corny clues and now this.”

“Hey!” Nevada feigned offense and grabbed some bubbles with his hand, playfully dabbing you on the nose with the suds. “I’m trying to be romantic. I’m having a moment here.” Grabbing a washcloth, he wiped the bubbles off your face, his expression serious. “Pero, I mean it. Tu eres mi oro, mi corazón, mi tesoro, mi vida. Te amo, Mami.”

Your eyes became shiny with tears at Nevada’s declaration. “Te amo tambien, Papi.” He cupped your cheek, kissing you like he had never done before. The kiss was tender yet passionate all at once. You could feel the love he had for you with every fiber of your being. It made your heart soar. You pulled away a fraction and stared into his mesmerizing green eyes. “Nevada?”

“Si, mi amor.”

“Can we keep the parrot?”

He laughed and kissed over every inch of your face he could reach. “You can have whatever you want, baby.” He sighed in contentment and rested his forehead against your temple. “Whatever you want,” he softly repeated.

That was Nevada for you. He could be abrasive and harsh but there was another side to him. A side only you saw—gentle and loving. He was yours and you were his and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone​ @scarlettsoldier​ @amirightcounselor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613​ @imagine-all-the-imagines​

#Nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez fic #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights #Raul Esparza #raúl esparza

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Nevada Ramirez:  What’s Your Problem?

Word Count:  3651

TW:  Smut (dub-con due to intoxication; committed relationship; dirty talk; PiV, unprotected).  18+ only.

You weren’t even supposed to be at the club that night.  You had agreed to take the last shift at the clinic, trading off with another tech who had tickets to the Yankees game.  At the last minute, though, she traded back for her shift.  The weather forecast called for vicious storms, and she figured it would get rain-delayed or cancelled.

As you made your way home, you knew your coworker was right.  You could feel the storm coming:  the mugginess cut through with cold winds, the fast-moving clouds that scudded across the nearly full moon, the distant rolling of thunder off to the west.  There was an energy to the night too – you could practically feel it crackling around you like electricity.

Normally, you’d just go back to your apartment, put on your pajamas, and settle into your couch to start a movie.  The workweek was tough, and by Friday, you were usually worn down to a nub.  You were in graduate school and worked at the clinic late at night – it paid okay, and there was so much down time that you got a lot of your schoolwork done on the clock.

Of course, you didn’t need to do any of it if you didn’t want to.  Your boyfriend, Nevada Ramirez, the self-proclaimed King of the Heights told you time and again that he would take care of you.  Which he did, for the most part.  But it was a point of pride that you get your master’s degree and continue the path you had set for yourself long before you met Nevada.

You weren’t even sure what he saw in you, but ever since he stumbled into your clinic, needing stitched up, he had been relentless in his pursuit of you.  And you – with your handful of short, failed relationships – couldn’t resist him for long.

Even though you should be tired, the oncoming storm gave you a jolt.  You went home, took a quick shower, and changed into your nicest dress.  It was modest by Nevada’s club’s standards, but it was still sexy.  Tight, but not skin tight.  Showed off a tasteful amount of cleavage.  It was a deep red, and you matched your lipstick perfectly to it.  

Then you made your way to the club to surprise your boyfriend.

By the time you got there, the wind had picked up, leaving your hair extra-tousled.  You straightened your skirt and checked your makeup in the mirror of a car parked out front.  Then you went inside.

The club was dim, and you could feel the bassline in your bones.  There was the smell – no matter how much management cleaned or aired the place out, the club always had a unique funk of spilled alcohol, skunky secondhand weed smoke, overpowering colognes, and sweat.  You curled your nose at the smell and waited to get used to it.  

You started towards the staircase that led up to Nevada’s perch, as you called it.  There was a small balcony area where he could sit and survey the club floor without having to join in the mass of sweaty, grinding people.  You usually sat with him, perched on his lap.  Sometimes, if he was in a temper, you’d soothe him by scratching your nails through his hair.  Other times, if he was horny, you’d tease him with a scaled-down lap dance until he’d drag you into his office and take you on his couch, or across his desk, or against the door.

Tonight though, there was already someone on his lap.

You stood, frozen in place, and just watched for a moment.  The woman was in clubwear that left little to the imagination, some complicated dress woven from strings and straps that probably took an hour to get into.  She was gorgeous, you admitted to yourself jealously, with big dark curls that cascaded down her back, and curves upon curves.

Any other time, you would have just left.  Any other guy, you would have gone home.  But being with Nevada had changed something in you, making you less passive and just a bit meaner.  The meek girl who was used to guys walking all over her was slowly being replaced by someone stronger.

So you turned away from the foot of the stairs and made your way to the bar.  You ordered a rail of premium shots – Trujillo’s woman drank for free, after all – and then threw them back in rapid succession.

Then you went out onto the dance floor and waited for the alcohol to hit you.  It didn’t take long.

You might not be curvy like that girl, or beautiful like that girl, but you had a certain spark that people found appealing.  You felt the alcohol burning through your veins, felt the bass thrumming through your cells.  You made your way to the center of the dance floor, you were the nucleus of the writhing mass of bodies pressing against each other.  One song bled into another; you danced with a tall woman who pulled you in against her, swaying together to the beat.  

She spun away from you, and she was replaced by a man.  Through the tequila haze, you saw that he was handsome enough, in a dicey sort of way.  He placed a hand on your waist, so you turned around so that your back was to his chest.  He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in tight against him as he ground against you.  You closed your eyes and willed the sensation to erase the image of Nevada with some random woman in his lap.

You don’t know how much time passed.  A minute, an eternity.  The music was pounding through you, and you felt dizzy whenever you opened your eyes.  You went to lean back against the man dancing with you, but you were suddenly jolted as he was pulled away.

You opened your eyes and spun around just in time to see Nevada’s face, dark with fury.  And Nevada’s fist, connecting with your dance partner’s face.  

“Stop it!” you yelled.  You grabbed for Nevada’s arm as he pulled back to land another punch, and in the scuffle, you got knocked down, hard.  Nevada’s men swarmed past you, separating your boyfriend from your dance partner.  

You felt a flood of tears fill your eyes, and you scrambled to stand up.  Nevada, his men, the man you’d danced with – they were in a tangle on the dance floor, yelling in Spanish and trying hit each other.  You weren’t even an afterthought – you were quite forgotten in the melee.  Well, of course you were.  You spun on your heel unsteadily and left the club.

You only made it a block before you heard someone yelling for you.  You ignored him.  Two could play that game.

You only made it one block after that before he caught up with you.  His hand grabbed you by your upper arm, and he spun you around until you were facing him.  He had a red spot on his cheekbone that you suspected would be a bruise by morning, his hair was a mess, and he had that dangerous glint in his eyes that, any other time, would have turned you on immediately.

“Fuck’s sakes, what’s your problem?” he asked angrily.  He dug his fingers into the soft meat of your upper arm, and you winced and tried to pull away from him.

“What the fuck do you care?” you snapped back.  

“I care when my woman is at my club, letting any fucking asshole who wants to grind all over her,” he snarled.  

“Your woman?” you laughed.  You sounded crazy and knew it, but the alcohol and the electricity of the coming storm made you feel a little mad.  “Is that what I am?”

He nodded and started to reply, but you cut him off.  You let the madness take over.

“If I’m your woman, then why is some other woman sitting on your lap, huh?  Why is that, Nevada?  I came to the club to surprise you, thought you might be lonely but you weren’t lonely, were you?  You don’t like seeing some stranger all over your girlfriend?  Join the fucking club.”  You felt his grip on your arm loosen, so you jerked away and stumbled backwards away from him.

“Cariño,” he started.  He held a hand out to you, gentle.  Like he was trying to calm you.

“Don’t.  Just…don’t, with the fucking pet names,” you said.  “I’m going home.  I should have just stayed home in the first place.”  You turned away and started marching towards your apartment, only staggering every few steps.

You could hear the click of his ridiculous snakeskin boots behind you, but he kept a respectable distance.  And he talked to you as he walked you home.

“That woman?  She’s the girlfriend of one of my rivals.  She came in to try and seduce me.  Didn’t know that I knew who she was when she walked through the door.”  You slowed your stride a bit, and Nevada pulled up beside you.  He laid a firm hand on your arm.  “You can’t believe that I’d actually risk losing you over someone like that.”

You shrugged lamely and kept walking.  Maybe what he was saying was true, but you were too drunk to logic it out, and the image of that woman in her scanty dress on his lap was still too fresh in your memory.

He followed you in silence to your apartment, but when you unlocked the front door, he charged in after you.  He was on you in a flash, turning you around to face him.  His mouth was on yours, his tongue plunging into you as his hands drifted down your hips and around to cup your ass.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours.  His eyes were deep green, and you felt as if he could see straight through you.  

“You don’t think you’re my woman?” he whispered in a low growl.  “You don’t think it tears me up to see you with another man?  To see you upset?”  His hands on your ass, he pulled you against him so that you could feel his erection, already straining against his jeans.  “You think someone else did this to me?  It’s you, you fucking crazy bitch.  You’re the one who drives me crazy.  You’re the one who makes me hard.”

He kept one hand on your ass, but let the other one drift up to cup your face.  His fingers tangled in your hair, and he pulled your face close to his.  “You’re my woman,” he growled, and it sent a pulse of pure electricity straight to your core.  “I’m gonna prove it to you.”

He gave you a bruising kiss, full of passion.  You opened your mouth to him and moaned at the taste of him – the lingering remains of some distant cigar, the rum he’d been drinking, and whatever made Nevada taste like…well, Nevada.  You probably would have stayed there all night, letting him fuck you against the bank of mailboxes in the lobby, but a peal of thunder rolled across the sky, startling you and making you pull away from him.

“C’mon,” he said, and he tugged you impatiently up the three flights of stairs to your apartment.  You were too drunk – on alcohol, on him – to unlock the door, so he made an impatient grunt and swiped your keys from you.  Before you knew it, he had the door opened, you pivoted inside, and the door slammed shut behind you.

You staggered a bit, dizzy from the booze and being spun around by Nevada, so you tried to reach down to ease your shoes off.  Your boyfriend gave you a lone second to accomplish your task before he growled again in impatience.  He reached down and scooped you up into his arms.  He carried you into your bedroom where he dumped you unceremoniously onto your bed.

You laid back, your head spinning, and watched him as he undressed.  First the leather coat, then the black button down, then the black undershirt.  The thunder sounded closer now, and you could hear the first spattering of rain against your bedroom windows.  Nevada undid his belt and dropped it on the floor.  The buckle hit with a thud, and you looked up into his eyes.  What you saw made you swallow hard.

“I should punish you,” he said in a menacing tone.  His emerald eyes were dark, and you could just make out his expression in the light from the street.  “I should make you suck my cock until tears are streaming down your face, messing up your pretty makeup.”

You ran the tip of your tongue over your lower lip, and you caught Nevada’s narrowed gaze seeing you do it.  “How’s that punishment?” you asked as innocently as you could.

He let out a surprised huff and unbuttoned his pants.  He pushed them and his underwear down in one motion, leaving him completely naked except for the giant gold cross he wore.

“That the fucking problem with you,” he said as he knelt at the bottom of the bed and crawled over you.  “I can’t find a way to punish you.”  He hovered over you, his mouth ghosting over yours, but every time you tried to kiss him, he pulled back with an evil smirk.

The storm was howling outside now, lashing rain across your windows.  Thunder boomed every minute or so, and streaks of lightning illuminated the room in white-blue light that seared in your retinas.  In the morning, you’d blame the alcohol, but you knew it was the storm that made you bolder than you usually were with Nevada.

“I think you’re the one that needs punished,” you replied.  You tried to make your voice as cold as possible, and you stared him down.  His eyes widened a fraction, and you could see his pupils dilate at your words.  It gave you confidence, so you reached up and laid both palms on his bare chest and pushed him off of you with a hard shove.

Before he could react, you were straddling him.  You were still fully clothed – or mostly.  As you lowered your dripping core against him, dragging yourself lightly over his erection, Nevada’s eyes widened even more before he groaned.  He tried to place his hands on your hips to drive you down onto him, but you slapped them away, hard.

“No, no, no,” you chided in a sing-song voice.  “You’ve been a very bad man and don’t deserve that.”  You ground your bare cunt against him as you told him all the things he didn’t deserve, all the things you had planned on doing to him that night before you caught him with another woman on his lap.

You knew he was stronger than you and could easily unseat you, but judging from the dark look on his face and the pulsing of his cock against you, Nevada was obviously into this new game you were playing.  

“I even wore my red dress that you like so much,” you continued with a pout.  “And I matched my lipstick so that when I went down on you, it’d mark you with your favorite color.  But now…”  You dragged yourself over him until the tip of his cock was dangerously close to your entrance, and you watched him take a shuddering breath.  Then you pulled away and smirked at his groan of frustration.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped.  “Lo siento.”  You picked up the speed of your grinding against him, and you smiled to hear the babbling of Spanish that was spilling from his lips.  You only understood a fraction of it, but you got the idea.  He was sorry, he needed you.

You stopped grinding against him and leaned forward, pressing your clothed breasts against his bare chest.  You kissed him very gently, barely brushing his lips with your own, before you shifted enough to whisper in his ear.

“I’m your woman,” you hissed.  “No one else.”  You heard him breath out an affirmative, so you pulled his earlobe into your mouth and bit him lightly until he groaned.  Then you sat back up against him, relishing the feel of his straining cock pressed against you.  You reached one hand up and grasped his stubbled jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Ramirez, because I want to get off.”  He nodded eagerly and started to say something, but you pressed your forefinger across his lips.

“I’m still mad at you, so I’m not going to look at you while I fuck you.  I’m going to use you, and you will not come until I do.  Is that clear?”  He nodded again, a bit disappointed this time.  You knew how much Nevada liked watching you orgasm – he always preferred positions where he could watch your face, watch you come undone underneath him or on top of him.  

But tonight wasn’t about him, so you raised yourself off of him and turned around.  You grasped his cock, hot in your palm, and guided it against your entrance.  Then, with your back turned to him and still fully clothed in your dress, you lowered yourself onto him until you were sitting flush against his hipbones, his cock fully sheathed in you.

You heard him groan behind you, heard the muttered Spanish again, but you ignored him.  This was about you.  You sat still for a moment, getting used to the fullness of him and the new angle.  You rocked against him, going slowly, and you could feel a whole host of emotions radiating from him behind you – frustration, regret, excitement.

You picked up the pace, raising yourself off of him a fraction before sinking back down onto him.  It felt amazing, but without the usual stimulation to your clit, you weren’t sure how long it was going to take for you – and you knew Nevada wouldn’t last forever.

You started to reach down to take care of it but then a thought occurred to you.  You turned your head over your shoulder and saw Nevada staring back at you, the strain evident on his face.  

“Raise your leg up,” you ordered him, and you slapped the side of his thigh for good measure.  He bent his leg at the knee and planted his foot on the bed.  You pushed his other leg out and then adjusted yourself so that you were straddling his thigh and impaled on his cock.

You took a few experimental thrusts, raising and lowering yourself slowly against him.  His thigh, nestled between your legs, gave you just enough friction on your clit, and you picked up the pace until you were riding him steadily and with purpose.  

You could feel the tension in his thigh – the muscle was like a rock underneath you, and you knew he was struggling to wait for you.  The thought made you grind against him harder, and you relished the heat that was pooling low in your belly.  The storm was in full force now, the thunder and pounding rain drowning out your panting and his.  You fucked him hard, driving yourself down onto his cock until it reached the point where it almost hurt, and you swiveled your hips against his leg to grind your clit against him.  

You felt his hands come to rest on your hips, but he wasn’t steering you or driving you down onto him.  He just wanted to touch more of you, and that realization is what made the heat in your belly erupt.  You sank down onto him one last time and then stayed there, not moving, as your orgasm washed over you.  The lightning flashes were seared on the backs of your eyelids, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your mind go blank.  You arched yourself against his thigh again, and you felt your sheath squeezing his cock.  He gave a groan behind you and couldn’t resist pressing himself into you an extra fraction as he came, spilling himself deep into you.  

The storm continued, and you let yourself recover, slumped and steadying yourself against his leg.  Finally, he worked himself up into a sitting position and helped you dismount.  You felt exhausted, and you had that limp, wrung-out feeling that you got after good sex.  The feeling where you knew you’d sleep like a rock and wake up famished and a little achy between your legs.  The best feeling, really.

Nevada didn’t say anything.  He reached behind you and unzipped your dress, easing it over your head and tossing it to the floor.  Then he laid you down on the bed beside him and yanked the covers up over both of you.  He hooked an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest.

For a long while, there was no sounds other than the rain outside and Nevada’s heartbeat against your ear.  You ran your hands idly over his chest and belly, enjoy the feeling of his warm skin against your palms.  He stroked your head for a bit before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You are mine, you know,” he muttered in the darkness.  “No one else.”

That was probably the closest you were ever going to get to a declaration of love, so you sighed and said, “I know.”

There was a beat, and then he continued.  “But if you ever feel like you need to remind me…”

You smiled and raised yourself up to look at him.  He had a sheepish grin on his face.

“That can be arranged,” you replied.  You kissed him softly on his mouth, and then you nestled back against him.

“Thank you, mi amor,” he whispered.  You were half asleep and almost missed it, but you didn’t.  Mi amor.  

You’d have to punish him more often.

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez x you #trouble in the heights #trouble in the heights fanfiction #tropes-and-tales

[tinyboxxtink]

“you are terrible and awful and perfectly horrid and -- and mine.” with Vada?

I love you SO much for sending all of these!! <3

SO I kinda cheated and used this to fulfill a request AND hit a square on @storiesofsvu bingo!!

The square is New Year's Eve.

-----------------------

It was 11 o'clock on New Year’s Eve, and Nevada still wasn’t home yet. He promised this year he would be done with his “business” and home by midnight, so that you two could ring in the new year together for once. But the clock was ticking away, and you hadn’t received so much as a text since five that afternoon.

You paced Nevada’s penthouse apartment, fully decked out in a brand-new party dress, perfect hair and make-up, the works. And you were wasting it all on Chris Hansen as you were binge watching Dateline crime shows.

“estúpida madre puta…” You grumbled as you glanced at your stationary phone once more.

11:45 PM

“I swear to God, if he doesn’t…” You started to threaten the air when you heard the DING! Of the elevator to the suite. The doors open to reveal your boyfriend holding a bottle of champagne and a huge smile.

“Ah, mami,” He strolled out of the elevator with a happy tone that quickly shifted once he saw your face. “¿Qué pasa?”

“What’s up?” You repeated it in English. “What’s UP?!”

“I’m sensing you think I did something wrong,” He walked past you and placed the bottle of champagne in the freezer to chill.

“No, you DID do something wrong, Vada,” You crossed your arms in a huff.

“Well that’s imposible mami,” He smirked as he turned back to face you. “I never do anything wrong,”

“You promised!” You stomped your stiletto. “You promised we’d spend New Year’s Eve together,”

“Corrección,” He walked closer to you with the same smirk. “I said we would start the new year together, which we WILL, mami,”

“Oh you--” You made a disgruntled face as you started to bitch about semantics.

“I what, mami?” He smirked even harder as he began to pull something from his leather jacket as he approached where you were standing.

“You are terrible and awful and perfectly horrid and --” You started off on him when you saw the box he was holding. He opened it to reveal a huge diamond ring.

“.... And mine,” You stared breathlessly at the ring. Your gaze went from Vada to the rock and back to him again.

“Lo siento mi amor, I know I was late,” He finally conceded you were right. “But I had to pick this up all the way across town,”

“I…you…” You blinked in disbelief as you just stared wide eyed at the skating rink in the box.

“Marry me, Y/N?” He smiled at you. A warm, loving smile-- something nobody else got to see. "Start the new year as mi reina?"

“Si!” You squealed as you jumped into his arms. “Yes, a million times, yes!!!”

Nevada was slipping the ring on your finger when you heard the countdown going off on “Rockin’ New Year's Eve,” in the background.

“5….4…3…2…1!”

You both kissed each other while the ring sparkled in the reflection of the moon.

“Feliz Año Nuevo, Y/N,” He beamed at you while stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Happy New Year, Vada,” You grinned before kissing him once more.

#nevada ramirez fanfiction #nevada ramirez x you #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights #drabble requests #raul esparza #nevada ramirez imagine #storiesofsvu holiday bingo #new years eve

[eclecticminded]

Forgotten

anonymous asked: Read your most recent fic and I loved it! Could we get a prequel where Nevada forgot their anniversary ?

anonymous asked: Prompt - Nevada forgets his and the reader’s anniversary

Let’s get some minor angst and fluff up in here!! Hope y’all like this!

Nevada forgets your first anniversary.

Words:1162

Warnings Food and alcohol mention. Cursing.

Tags: @southsiderepresent @glimmerglittergirl @madpanda75  @southern-magnolia @katmstanton @esparza-army @sweetsummertime99  @obfuscateyummy @lifeisbetterwithbarba  @lyssa1385  @hux-me-up   @bowieisawizard @sleepylunarwolf @mrsrafaelbarba anyone else ask!

Also I have a Kofi (link in blog description) if anyone wants to donate!

It wasn’t unusual for Nevada to forget things like dates every now and again. But he usually remembered the important things. That’s why when he made no mention of your anniversary the week leading up to it, you figured he was just planning a surprise. The morning of he kissed you goodbye and rushed out. Surely there would be flowers sent to work? Or a surprise lunch?

 When you got home sans no contact other than the standard conversation, you decided to take matters into your own hands. His favorite dinner was made and prepared while you waited and waited. At nine he finally responded to your myriad of texts saying he’d be late because he was out with friends. You appetite was suddenly lost as the candles burned out. It was like they were taunting you.

 Angrily you scrawled a message on the notepad from the fridge and tossed it on the table. You did the dishes, banging them harder than necessary, and went to bed. Fuck Nevada. It was your first anniversary and he forgot. Who does that? You cried yourself to sleep.

 Nevada came stumbling in after midnight a little drunk. He was frustrated you hadn’t responded to his messages or answered his calls; you’d turn your phone off after the third one. He called for you and you didn’t answer, that was his first clue something was wrong. The second was staring him in the face when he flipped the light on. On the kitchen table sat two plates of his favorite foods, including dessert; both untouched. There were candles burned out and wax pooled on the table. A wrapped box sat next to a note.

Thanks for forgetting our anniversary. Nice to know where I stand, going out with your friends instead.  Sleep on the fucking sofa.

 “Shit,” Nevada swore under his breath. He knew your anniversary was soon, but he didn’t realize it was today. He opened the box to find a framed picture from your first date, him glowering while you licked ice cream off his cheek mid-laugh. A small card said it was for his desk, to remember you by.  He’d really fucked up this time. He tried the bedroom door and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. He hung his head and plopped down on the sofa.

 The next morning you snuck out for work, careful not to wake Nevada. The day was dragging on, and after the afternoon meeting you were suddenly pulled into a hallway as you passed. At first you fought back, but saw it was Nevada and just glared.

 “What the fuck are you doing here,” you spat at him and he shrunk like a kicked puppy.

 “I’m sorry I forgot,” he pleaded and dropped his outstretched hands when you stepped away from him.

 “I think you’re just sorry I’m mad,” you lowered your eyes and started to storm away but he pulled you back.

 “Loca, y/n, please,” he seemed truly remorseful but you were still furious.

 “Let go of me! If it was important to you, you would have remembered,” your crossed arms let him know he was losing what little ground he had.

 “It is important! I thought it was next month! That’s when I took you to the fancy restaurant!”

 “It was yesterday, when we went for ice cream and you asked me to be yours after months of just being fuck buddies,” you lip quivered.

 “Oh,” his face fell.

 “Oh is right,” you sniffled.

 “Let me show you how sorry I am,” he grabbed your hip and pulled you to him.

 “You can’t make this better with sex Vada,” you shoved him away and he huffed.

 “Just put this fucking dress on, and tell your boss you’re leaving early,” he thrust a bag at you, from one of those fancy stores he take you to when he wants to spoil you.

 “Fine,” you stormed to your boss’s office and said you were leaving. In the bathroom you changed into the dress and heels, both red with black lace over them. Nevada had good taste, and he knew what you liked. Your makeup was easy enough to fix and you met him in the lobby, still mad.

 “For the lady,” Nevada offered you a single red rose and it softened your anger.

 “Thank you,” you smelled it and tried to hide your smile, “Still mad.”

 “I’ll make it up to you,” he led you to the waiting SUV and ushered you inside. Forty minutes later you were having a private dining experience at the nicest restaurant you’d ever seen. There were candles and dozens of roses in different colors around the table. Dinner was delicious, of course it was, Nevada was a foodie. The whole time he begged your forgiveness, laminating on why he loved you.

 “You’re your own person, you have your own life. You don’t want Trujillo, you want Nevada. You are the sweetest more beautiful and badass mujer I know. I’ll never forget again, lo prometo,” he brushed his lips across your knuckles for the hundredth time since you sat down.

 “How can you promise that,” you looked at him over the candle flames, “How can you be sure?”

 “Because,” he pulled out his phone, “It’s saved in my phone.”

 “You get new phones all the time,” you rolled your eyes.

 “Only family has this number, I keep it. It’s the number you have,” he smiled and put the phone away, pleased with himself.

 “I have all your numbers,” you chuckled and finished off your wine.

 “Am I forgiven,” his warm thumbs traced circles on your hand grasped between his own.

 “Just this once,” you nodded seriously.

 “Good,” he chuckled then his eyes lit up, “I forgot your gift.”

 “A gift,” you pulled your hand back to your lap and tilted your head to the side, “What is it?”

 “Open it,” he pushed a small blue box across the table at you and you raised an eyebrow in response. What you found inside made you gasp. A charm bracelet with three charms was nestled inside, a N, red heart, and your first initial.

 “It’s beautiful Vada,” you leaped across the table and kissed him, nearly singing your hair. He helped you put it on with a shit eating grin.

 “I ordered this last month,” he flipped your wrist over to admire how it looked, “Plenty of room to fill it with more charms.”

 “Thank you Vada baby, I love you,” you rose to your feet and stretched, “Let’s go home.”

 “I love you too, do I get to sleep next to you,” he threw an obscene amount of cash on the table and his men came out of nowhere to carry the roses out to a second SVU.

 “Maybe later,” you purred, “We have anniversary sex and make up sex to have.”

 “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he was scrambling after you with a huge smile, his eyes focused on your sashay.

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez fanfic #trouble in the heights #trouble in the heights imagine #trouble in the heights fanfic #mine #my writing

[melk917]

What's Your Fantasy Bingo Masterlist

Below you will find the masterlist for all my fills for my What's Your Fantasy bingo. Check out the #melk917fantasybingo for these and other fills!

You can find the full soundtrack for the bingo here. (Including many upcoming....) Each song pairing is in parentheses next to the fic.

Rafael Barba

When No One is Around You, Say Baby, I Love You - Rafael Barba x f!Reader (Tu Vecina - Maluma)

Table Top or Give Me a Lap Dance - Rafael Barba x f!Reader (Envolver - Anitta)

We can do it in the pouring rain - Rafael Barba x f!Reader (Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones)

+ more upcoming

Paul Mendelson

More Than Chocolate - Paul Mendelson x gn!Reader (Chocolate - Maluma)

You Can Scratch My Back and Rule Me - Paul Mendelson x f!Reader (Hrs and Hrs - Muni Long)

Whipped Cream with Cherries and Strawberries on Top - Paul Mendelson x gn!Reader (34 + 35 Remix - Ariana Grande, Doja Cat, Megan Thee Stallion)

+ more upcoming

Nevada Ramirez

Sauna, Jacuzzi, the Back Row at the Movie - Nevada Ramirez x gn!Reader(Closer - Nine Inch Nails)

+ more upcoming

Jackson Neill

Upcoming

#melk917fantasybingo #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #paul mendelson #dopesick fanfiction #dopesick hulu #nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights fanfiction #trouble in the heights #jackson neill #the path hulu #the path imagine #the path fanfiction

[thatesqcrush]

Christmas in The Heights

Nevada Ramirez x Reader. I haven’t written Nevada in a hot minute. This is for @madpanda75 who requested Nevada and lights for holiday bingo. I also had an anon from way back when request Nevada with the line: “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” from the grumpy prompt list.

CW: blowjobs, language, p in v sex.

WC: 1828

AN: Posting without editing. Sorry for typos. Also Spanish sprinkled throughout. Will post a key at the end.

***

Christmas in The Heights was a multi-sensory experience. Lights hung off the fire escapes of the apartment building. As temperatures begin to fall and the sun begins to set a bit earlier, corner fruit stands put away the limónes and naranjas and instead, put out peras, apples and uvas dangling from strings, a lot like seasonal baubles. Groups of family and friends, or Aguinaldos, would walk from house to house, singing with great cheer and as they made their way around the neighborhood, creating a spontaneous holiday street festival.

You looked down from your apartment window, smiling as you watched the Aguinaldo make its way around, with more and more people joining in. You danced around in just an oversized sweatshirt and a Santa hat as you strung up more and more lights around the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Nevada.

You looked at the clock, after stringing up the last of the lights. Nevada was nowhere to be found. You let out an irritated sigh. Everyone would soon be arriving for Noche Buena and you told everyone during el Día de Acción de Gracias that you would happily host.

You check on the puerco asado, the delicious smell making your stomach rumble. Everything else was ready – the roast pork was the last thing to cook. You had ensalada rusa, pasteles and moro de gandules. You picked up fresh telera from the bakery along with dulce frio and spiced bread pudding. Not one to forget the little kids who would be coming – including Nevada’s nephew and niece, you picked up gomitas (and had some soaking in rum for the adults).

It was no surprise that Nevada had the apartment wired with cameras. When you’re the El Jefe, everyone wants to take a shot at you. You opened the app on your phone, scanning various rooms – no dice on Trujillo’s location. On a hunch, you decide to look in the underground garage and sure enough, he was there – working on his motorcycle.

You smile and slip on your chanclas and make way downstairs – but not before lowering the heat on the oven, lest you ruin the roast pork.

**

“Nevada, what are you doing?” You ask. “Everyone is going to be here soon – even your egotistical hermano.”

“Ya me voy.” Nevada grumbles, barely looking up at you as he works on the motorcycle. His hands are smeared with oil and he is wearing a black tanktop and worn jeans. They ride dangerously low on his hips and desire pools between your thighs. He stands up straight and comments how he’s hot, before whipping off his tank top, wiping his brow with it.

You swallow hard, your eyes raking over his lean, taut body, covered in thick dark chest hair. But the furrowed brows and scowl on his face brought you back to reality. He seemed on edge, and this was completely out of character for him.

“Oye papi, que pasas?” You ask softly, approaching him. Nevada looks at you, the frown deepening.

“Nada mami. Go back upstairs and finish getting ready – I’ll be up soon.”

You straighten to your full height and cross your arms. Your eyes narrow and your lips purse. “No me jodas. Dime la verdad mi osito.”

Nevada drops the wrench and in two wide steps, he’s in front of you, meeting you eye to eye. His normally jade eyes are dark and intense. You match his heated expression and arch a single brow.

Nevada met his match with you. You both stood there staring at each other, nostrils flaring and tempers rising. Finally Nevada backed down, taking a step back. He reached for the wrench and whipped it at the wall, the sound of the metal clattering echoing though the garage. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” Nevada replies irritated.

“Nevada, por favor, talk to me.” You reply, your face softening. Never had you seen him keyed up like this.

Nevada hops onto a stool and rubs his hands over his face. “It’s my brother.”

“What about him?” You ask, walking over until you stood in front of him again. You leaned into him – he smelled like a mix of leather and sweat.

“Every time he comes home – to el barrio – he goes on and on about being some big shot abogado with los gringuitos. He’s a fucking sellout – even changing his last name to be one of them. And then all I hear is oye, why can’t you be more like Bryan – look what he’s made of his life and all you got is el club.” Nevada huffed.

You look at Nevada sadly. “Amor, who gives a shit. El es demasiado. You have so much to be proud of. So you amass your wealth differently, who cares? I don’t. I love you, for you. I wouldn’t be with you if you were like Bryan, so fucking uptight with his skinny bitch of a wife. I am surprised they are even coming at all.”

“They have the nanny with them and they are staying in the city – who, by the way, Bryan is fucking.” Nevada laughs coldly.

“Speaking of fucking….” Your eyes rake over Nevada’s bare chest once more. “Want to have some fun before everyone shows?”

A delicious grin spreads on Nevada’s face. “Damn mami, I like the way you think.”

Nevada hops off the stool and you wink before you remove your sweatshirt. You weren’t wearing a bra, so you were clad in just your panties. Your eyes land on the massive erection pressing against the front of his jeans.

Nevada unbuttons his jeans and it’s no surprise to you that he is commando. You take your sweatshirt and drop it in front of him, using it as a cushion as you fall to your knees, your pulse racing with excitement.

You nuzzles his warm flesh, your hands trailing up his muscled thighs. Your pussy aches as you take his cock into your hand. It’s huge and thick and you can feel every vein and ridge in your hand. It’s perfect. You lick your lips hungrily and take his cock in your mouth. His cock felt heavy in your mouth and you relished in the feeling. You look up at him, meeting his heated gaze as you bob on his erection.  The salty taste of his pre-cum floods your mouth and you let out a muffled moan as his hands wrap into your hair.

“That’s it mami.” Nevada grunts. “Suck my cock.” Both hands grip the back of my head, guiding you on his length, silently encouraging you to take more and more until the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. You choke and sputter, saliva pooling down your chin and dripping. You briefly close your eyes and relax your throat and again begin working his length.

You flick your tongue against the underside of the head of his cock. “Love your cock papi. But I like it better in my pussy.” You spat into your hand and gave Nevada’s cock a few strokes before guiding him back into your mouth. You began to rhythmically bob once more, while using your hand to help jack him off.

Nevada hisses and tighten his grip on your hair, forcing you off him. Your lips are spit shiny and swollen, your mascara from earlier in the day runs down your cheeks. Nevada drops to a squat, so he is eye to eye with you. His hand grips the back of your neck. “Is that what you want? For me to fuck you?”

You nod. “Please papi. I need it.”

“Over the bike.” Nevada growls. You nod and stand on wobbly legs, bracing yourself over the seat of the bike, your ass presented to him.

There is no teasing, no playing with your pussy – Nevada wasn’t in the mood. Instead he smacks your ass hard, resulting in your eyes being pinpricked with tears and a reddened imprint on your ass.

Nevada stands behind you and runs his hand over his length. He pats your ass with his dick before he uses his fingers to push your panties to the side. He teasingly rubs it against your folds. You moaned and tried to press against him, desperate for his cock. “Don’t worry my beautiful puta. You’ll get papi’s cock.”

Nevada grips your hips tightly and slides his cock into you, letting out a deep satisfying grunt. He fucks you earnestly, each thrust propelling you forward.

“Oh yes, just like that!” You moan. “Fuck me papi, give it to me.”

Nevada grunts as he continues to pound into you. “Damn, mamí, your pussy is so fucking good.” He grips the fat of your ass and rolls it before delivering another spank.  Nevada feels your walls flutter around his cock and he knows you are close.

“Cream all over that cock.” Nevada encourages. He reaches around and uses the rough pad of his thumb to rub circles on your swollen clitoris.

You wail his name as the coil in your belly explodes, like fireworks being set off.

“That’s it.” Nevada grunts. Just as you are coming down, he pulls out of you and turns you around. You squat and begin to suck his cock once more, tasting the combined mixture of your and his release on his cock.

“Oh, fuck Y/N, oh fuck.” Nevada groans, his cock twitching and pulsing in your mouth as he comes, unloading his seed into your warm mouth.

“Don’t swallow.” You hear him say and you look up at him once more and open your mouth, showing off his release on your tongue.

“Muy bien.” Nevada grunts. “Now swallow.” You do as told and then open your mouth once more, showing off that it is clean.

Nevada pulls you up and kisses you hard. He trails the outline of your face and for a brief moment, the ruthless blood hungry drug lord appears soft.

You press a kiss to the tip of his finger. “Now lets go back upstairs before dinner gets ruined.”

Nevada pulls on his jeans and you slip your sweatshirt on. Eventually you both clean up and head back upstairs where you finish dinner. Both of you clean up, no one is wise to the fact that you had both been fucking just an hour prior. You watch carefully as Nevada greets his brother and his sister-in-law. You hand some gomitas to the kids and they both run off to see the presents under the tree.

You hand out glasses filled with ponche de ron to Bryan and his wife, whatever ordinary name she has, and you plaster a smile on your face. Nevada whispers in your ear as you nod along, pretending to be interested in the latest legal win the attorney had.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Nevada murmurs.

You cover mouth with your drink and turn slightly towards him. “Love you too papi.”

FIN.

**

Key: 

Limónes: lemons

Naranjas: oranges

Peras: pears

Uvas: grapes

Noche Buena: Christmas Eve

Día de Acción de Gracias: Thanksgiving Day

Ponche de ron: Spiked eggnog like drink

Puerco asado: roast pork

Ensalada rusa: Russian salad

Pasteles: in some cultures, this means cake/pastries but for the purposes of this story, I use it as mashed plaintains stuffed with meat and its wrapped in banana leaves - these only come out during Christmas. 

Moro de gandules/arroz con gandules: Rice with pigeon peas

Telera: Bread that only comes out during Christmas.

Gomitas: gummy bears 

Oye papi, que pasas?: Hey daddy, what’s up?

Ya me voy: I’m leaving.

No me jodas. Dime la verdad mi osito: Don’t bullshit me, tell me the truth, little bear. 

**

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @teamsladsandgents @stardust-fray

#nevada ramirez #thatesqcrush holiday bingo #nevada ramirez smut #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez imagine