#the worst part is i got into this like. six months ago and i was like 'cool' and never felt an extreme attachment for it

[road2manjuumaster]

man it's so weird hyperfixating after NOT doing it for so long. like i remember feeling broken bc i wasn't dedicating every second of my day to a single series and had actual normal not fandom related thoughts and now im back like. why did i want this.

#day of nonstop consumption? check #everything reminds me of fixation? check #that weird chest achey thing when im tired and need to go to bed but cant bc the need to consume fixation media is so strong it prevents me #from getting any sleep? check #the worst part is i got into this like. six months ago and i was like 'cool' and never felt an extreme attachment for it #and then march happened and was like 'A3 BEAM' and brain blasted me to bits

[ja3honey]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤/𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢 ♡

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Your two professors were more than happy to show you some tips and tricks to help you study.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.36k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Colleg Au. Suggestive. 

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Professor!Yungi x Student!Reader 

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Swearing. Pet names. Hints of sex. Teasing. Dirty talk. Some man handling. Mingi and Yunho are HUGE.

Thank you, @mixling-blog, @yugy-oh, and @senpai-of-doom, for requesting Mingi and Yunho for this day. ♡♡♡

Note: I actually forgot to finish this day, and I'm so sorry. So I'll be making a part 2 once kinktober is done cause I had this whole idea but i just lost track of all the fics and this one got put on the bottom of my list by accident ahhhh.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

There was a secret code in college, an unspoken rule if you will. Never, ever, by any means, fall in love, or sleep with your professors. And yes, they might be handsome, and they might be only seven or so in age difference. But never, EVER, be romantically or sexually involved.  And this rule stuck by most students and more professors. There were young girls who always fawned over the brooding, tall, and mysterious drinks of water known as their music or mathematics teachers. And boys that would whisper among themselves who was the hottest, Ms. Kim, the science teacher, or Mrs. Park, the criminology professor.

But you? You swore the minute you only got barely accepted to the college―since you were late for the cut―that you would not look at your teachers in such an inappropriate and unprofessional way. Besides, you were one day going to be joining them as a professor once you pass your training exam. You always wanted to teach visual arts and Theater and this college has allowed you not only to study such majors and degrees but also train so that one day you’ll be able to teach them yourself to others.

You worked hard, studied instead of sleeping. Sleeping instead of hanging out with friends. Your life revolved around your work, and yet when you met the stand-in, since your normal teacher was away for a couple of weeks. It was like your brain no longer understood how to function. And the worst part…

Theres two of them.

Both are strong, tall, and deviously handsome. One had a voice so deep you could feel the vibrations of his vocals every time he spoke, and the other had eyes as piercing as the sun and a smile that could kill. To say they were your ideal type would be an understatement. And what was the icing on the cake? They are huge. Beefy broad shoulders, thick biceps and thighs, heavy chests. They were like super soldiers, and oh, how that made you swoon. Wanting nothing more than for them to pick you up and throw you around as if you weighed nothing. If you were to stand in between them, you surely would be caged in the best way possible.

You met them during the first term, six months ago. And every day since was a little unspoken game of cat and mouse. You didn’t flirt at first, still wanting to be professional but as your late hours at the library grew or the time spent sitting in an empty classroom for some quiet as your dorm was too loud to considerate became more common. Mr Park and Mr Jung came to your aid to help you with your studies, of course. First, they would sit at the front of the classroom while you were at a row of desks. They would explain about being a teacher, cheat sheets of sorts, and tips for when to do your first training shift. Helping you understand the ins and outs of navigating college students. And then it slowly moved to one of them sitting next to you, Mr Song, you could smell his cologne, the musk of his natural scent. His arm would brush yours, occasionally making you see how his large biceps were. And they were definitely the same if not larger than your thighs. Your body felt so small next to him.

And then Mr Jung sat on the other side of you. The feeling of being caged was coming to reality, and it was burning a fire inside of you. You tried to brush away these feelings. They are your professors, after all and one day, co-workers, not some school crush to dot over. But they were so smooth-talking, charming, with flirtatious smiles, and your mind couldn’t help but wonder since they are so naturally big, were they big else where…

“You get all that peach?” Mr Jung’s voice snapped you out of your lewd thoughts, redness suddenly pooling on your cheeks. You see that’s why Mr Jung had given you such a nickname, Peach, was because of the shade of pink your cheeks would be whenever he made eye contact with you. Deep down you knew your professor shouldn’t be nicknaming his student but then again you didn’t take the classes they taught, and the longer you thought about it, the more okay it was to flirt back. After all, you were all adults.

“You seem a bit distracted today?” Mr Song grumbled behind you, making a shiver dance down your back. My god, if that man sounded like that on a regular, you wondered what his bedroom voice sounded like, or even better, his morning voice. “Is something bothering you?” he asked, placing his large hand on your shoulder, stopping you from turning to the side to see him. No, instead, he slowly rubbed his fingers deep into your tense muscle, making you feel relief surge through you. You almost forgot to answer the question, too focused on the older man's hands doing wonders on your shoulders.

“I-I uhmm…” You were lost, suddenly feeling Mr Jung’s hand grip the top part of your thigh, rubbing circles on your exposed flesh where the hem of your shorts are. “It’s just. M-mr Jung…”

“Don’t worry, Peach, and I said already. Call me Yunho. We are going to be co-workers soon. You should address me and Mingi as such.” He included his friend and co-worker at the end, letting you know what you’ve been told for the thousandth time, call them by their first names. “You seem tense, darling. What could ever be the cause of so much tension in this pretty body of yours.”

Your eyes snapped open now, looking at Mr Jung―uh you mean Yunho―in his intense stare. Did he just call you darling? Now, your face was definitely redder than a tomato at this point. “Y-Yunho…”

Yunho groaned, biting his lip while rolling his eyes slightly. he had to pull back for a second before returning his hand to your thigh. “God, my name sounds so good when you say it.”

You looked away for a moment, feeling your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. The next thing you knew, a pair of large beefy arms pulled you by your waist until your ass was placed onto a board, hard, lap. “Say my name Doll Face. I wanna hear what my name sounds like coming off your pretty lips.” All barriers were gone and lines were being crossed. But none of you cared anyone. The flirtation became too much, more so for the men it seems and with Mingi’s lips finding the sweet spot behind your ear you couldn’t help but moan;

“Mingi…”

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” The hold Min had on you got tighter, and his huge biceps caged your back against his heavy chest. Your mind was spinning at the sheer thought that all Mingi and Yunho had to do was squeeze you tight enough that you’d break. They are so much bigger than you, stronger than you. They could throw you around and do as they pleased to you and all you could―would―do is lay back and take it.

“We knew you’d be such a good girl for us peach. Just look at you, head empty already when we have barely touched you.” Yunho chuckled, squeezing your thigh, letting his long fingers slip towards where you needed them most. “you want us to touch you, darling? Teach you some real lessons?” He emphasized the word ‘real’, all knowing that He and Mingi were going to teach you anything but a real lesson in this moment.

“Please…” you retched out for Yunho, gripping his perfectly iron button-up, pulling him towards you. “Please show me…” He drew his lips to yours quickly as Mingi’s bit down onto your shoulder while his hands loosely move to open your legs, letting Yunho cup your entire wet cunt with his huge hand. You were most definitely in for a night of your life.

-♥︎

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez mingi #ateez poly #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #ateez yungi #yungi #yunho fanfic #song mingi #jung yunho #ja3honey

[angels-sins0]

i beg you to continue with this fic of ghost, i want reader to gain some strength and make something 😭

Ghost x f!reader

Cw: I apologize in advance, emotionally (un)available Simon, age gap relationship (Simon is depicted in his late 30’s and the reader is around 21), older man!Ghost, young & naive!reader, slight spoilers for MWIII, brief mention of a developing alcohol addiction, hurt/no comfort, angst, screaming and crying, please don’t kill me for this.

Six months had passed since you last saw Simon. Truth be told, you’ve never felt better than you do right now.

You had moved out of your apartment three months ago after getting a promotion at your job, earning more money than you ever thought of having.

Life was good without him. You didn’t have to worry about getting your feelings hurt anymore.

Simon on the other hand, had been going through the worst months of his life.

He lost a good friend of his while on a mission which resulted in him frequenting the bar close to his house more than he’d like to admit.

Work was hard then and it was even harder knowing he couldn’t see you or hear your soft voice again.

He hated whatever it is he felt when he thought about you and the last time you were together. He despised himself for the way he treated you.

He missed your sweet laugh and the way your eyes lit up each time you saw him even if he proceeded to ruin you moments later.

What was it about you that made him feel weird inside whenever he thought of you? If only he felt that way when you were still with him.

Simon felt like he saw you everywhere around him, like you were with him no matter what he did. It was a strange feeling at first but he had learned to succumb to the comfort it brought him.

It didn’t help that you were the main star in his dreams more often than not. Whether it be dreams where he fought harder to have you back in his life or him fucking you in your bed, a guilty part of him enjoyed the latter.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to see you, had to look at your face one more time, hold you in his arms and never let you go again.

Simon stood in his apartment and contemplated if he actually wanted to do this.

What if you didn’t want to see him?

What if he was too late and you had found someone who treated you the way you deserved?

He had to try, right? Sure he would be hurt if you didn’t want him anymore but at least he would have some kind of closure.

And so, he made his way to your new place. He had gotten the address from Laswell but not before she made some snarky comment about him finally “getting laid”.

Simon knocked on your door and stood looking down at his feet.

Then you opened the door and he swore his heart could’ve popped out of him at that moment.

“Hey,” he breathed out, but you just stood there, rendered completely speechless by the fact that he was actually in front of you.

“H-how did you find me?” You said after a few moments of silence.

“I’ve got my ways.” He said plainly. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

Should you let him in?

All the while, you both just stared at each other.

“Do you want to…?” What the hell do people even say in these situations?

“Only if you want me to.”

And so, you moved to let him in, closing the door behind you and leading him to sit on the couch.

It was awkward. You didn’t even look at each other, just sat there in silence.

“Why are you here, Simon?” You asked. Why the hell would he show up now?

“I’ve been…thinking a lot about where we left things off.” He looked at you and you nodded slowly at his words.

“And?”

“And I think— I know I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve the way I treated you.” He sighed, and you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“It took you six months to figure that out?” You didn’t know what it was exactly that made you so angry. Was it his audacity to show up after all that time and think you’d be okay with it?

Simon went quiet again.

You stood up from the couch. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me the entire time you were away? How long I spent crying over something that wasn’t real? We had nothing! And i still felt like you were everything to me…even when I knew you’d never feel that way about me. Did you really think that—I would…let you in again after all this time?”

You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you, covering your face with your hands to wipe away your tears so he couldn’t see them.

He got up as well, slowly approaching you and he gently pulled you into his arms. You reluctantly relaxed into him, the tears still falling from you.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like this…I wish I was better—i want to be better…” Simon cupped your face with one hand, the other still wrapped around you and placed his forehead on yours.

With your eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized he’d lifted his mask up above his mouth. Your faces were impossibly close and he leaned in to connect your lips together in a kiss.

You felt like you were being controlled by something and it made you kiss him back, even when part of you wanted to push him away.

It went on for a couple of seconds before you eventually pulled back and stared at him.

“Is this what you’re really here for?” You said, voice laced with a hint of anger.

“No! Fuck, no! I wanted to calm y’down and it just happened.”

“I wanna be better and i wanna make you happy but most of all I want you to forgive me for how things were between us.” He was almost pleading, his eyes searching yours for any emotion.

You couldn’t help but scoff.

“All these words…and you still kissed me with your mask on, what does that tell you, Simon?”

He stayed silent. “It tells you that no matter what we have, you’ll never be able to feel like you can let your guard down around me.”

“But i-“

“And if we really decide to do this, what happens when you think i’m not enough or when you feel like you don’t want me anymore? How the hell am I supposed to be okay with that?! It took me six months to start feeling better even though what we had was nothing!”

“You are enough! For fuck’s sakes, you are all I’ve ever wanted!”

“Then show me who you are! I’m never gonna be able to love you if I don’t fucking know you, Simon!”

“You know I can’t do that…”

“Well, then you have your answer…” You looked down, not wanting to see his face anymore.

But he couldn’t look away from you, part of him knowing this was the last time he’d ever see you so he wanted to memorize everything about you.

“I think you should go.” You said, breaking the silence between you. “Please don’t try to come here again.”

You looked up at him and for the first time since you’ve known him, Simon looked hurt. You couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart at the sight of him standing there, trying to salvage whatever this was but ultimately failing.

“Right…”

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you.” Were the last words he spoke before leaving.

On his way home, he had this weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t explain, it made him realize why he was always so closed off and why he never tried to have something with someone.

Simon has always had this unexplainable fear of being rejected and left alone, and tonight, you invoked that fear further into him.

He had two thoughts that kept circling through his head.

He was never going to love again.

And the second one that pained him every time he would think about it.

You were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

@ghost-is-my-bbg , @evehasdied , @darlingvinny , @dragonstoneshortcake , @dest-nai , @imhereforthespice , @graciewacey , @annoyinglysweetobject , @7thsthings , @kaa212 , @rorylover71 , @deareststhings , @dxrak , @ghostslillady , @kazuhyahs , @spookyboogyuniverse , @dangelus , @kenz-ee , @goodkittyspost , @puppybittingotherpuppy , @skulfan1 , @prttylilkittn , @emmalandry , @justgivingupsblog , @simpforfic , @ciggsaftersex , @massiveduckkidcookie , @c3r3al-k1ll3r887 , @riverbutghost , @spxctorslxxt , @marriedtoeddie , @delightfulwolflawyerfreak-blog , @sixxslut , @ghostslittlegf , @tf141glory , @ghostswife141 , @prazinos , @toastedkjeks , @naio-kummer , @sunsetsimon , @livingdead-g1rl , @chimochai , @yo1mamma , @loving-azerath , @lanadelreygirly777

#ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #ghost cod #ghost smut #ghost x reader angst #ghost x reader smut #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon ghost riley

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 6

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~

❤️ Series Masterlist

“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 

He stood there with determination set across his face.

“We really need to talk.”

“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer. 

Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.

You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”

“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”

He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown. 

“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”

“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven. 

“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.

You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.

The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.

“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”

Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”

That sparked your anger once more.

“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.

“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”

You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.

“She got pregnant,” he admitted.

Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.

“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”

You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.

How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?

And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?

You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.

“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”

He looked down then, with shame coloring his features. 

Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.

You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.

“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”

You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.  

“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”

You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned. 

“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked. 

“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.

You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer. 

“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”

“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct. 

Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief. 

You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will. 

Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.

You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.

After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.

He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave. 

Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.

He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you. 

As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.

Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.

He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time. 

And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?

He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.

So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.

A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.

He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.

He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.

The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.

“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.

Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.

“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.

“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.

“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.

He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.

“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.

And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.

“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.

“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.  

After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.

“Did he push you?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said. 

“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”

Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer. 

“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”

You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder. 

“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.

“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.

“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”

He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.

Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist. 

“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly. 

“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass. 

He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.

He turned to leave.

You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this. 

Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”

“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.

Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.

“Hey!” he called out.

Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.

“What?” he shot back.

“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.

“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”

Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.

“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.

“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”

Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.

“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.

Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.

Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.

“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”

Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.

It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.

And your door was locked.

On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.

“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.

“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.

“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.

“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too. 

Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape. 

“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.

“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”

Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile. 

“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”

Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.

“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”

You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”

“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Okay.”

A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.

“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.

You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.

“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”

Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.

“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.

“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”

Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”

He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.

How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.

Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.

“It went south so fast,” he said.

And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.

You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.

“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”

Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”

Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.

“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”

You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”

“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”

He continued to drink his beer.

“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”

You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.

“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”

“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.” 

He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”

His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting. 

You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin. 

“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”

You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.

“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder. 

“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”

“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.  

“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”

Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.

But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.

And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt. 

It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.

Hey, where are you?

“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.

“Then you should go,” you said.

You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.

The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.

Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.

“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.

“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.” 

He looked at you in wonder. 

“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”

A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”

Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”

Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.

Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.

He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.

While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.

He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.

Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.

He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.

“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip. 

“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.

You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”

Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way. 

Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.

“Nope,” he muttered.

He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today. 

He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.

AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...

Next Time:

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”

“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.

“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 7

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Falling for you

Summary: When you decided to bring your daughter to Colombia to work for the CIA to take Pablo Escobar down, you never thought you would find someone to fall in love with....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 6.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: colleagues to friends to lovers, reader has a daughter, mentions of dead husband, death of best friend, angst, fluff, domestic Javi, kissing, smut (unprotected sex), feeeeeelings

A/N: This fic has been in the making for almost 2 years. I can't really explain why, but it took a long time and before I keep on editing it, I put it out in the world. I'm aware the last thing the CIA would do is send a single mother with her child to Columbia in the eighties but this is fiction and I don't want to hear complaints lol Also please let me know how you like the mood boards this year. I'm trying to change things up

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“He’s starring again.” You looked up from the file you were reading, looking at your partner Enrique before you let your eyes wander to the desk across the room. You had been here in Colombia for a good three months now. It might have been the worst idea you ever had to take your daughter with you to one of the most dangerous countries in the world, but it was not like something was holding you back in the states. 

You were used to the looks of all the men who thought they were more important than you. 

More intelligent than you.

The whispers behind your back. 

The catcalls. 

How they always tried to talk over you. But they didn’t know what you knew. They didn’t know the resources you had. Working as one of the few women at the CIA as an active agent took a lot from you. But you did it for the greater good. You did not talk to many of the men working in your department. Except for your partner Enrique and your supervisor. You and Enrique had been working together back in the states and him coming with you was one of the conditions you had before you agreed to go. You needed someone you could trust if you would work here to help to take down the biggest drug cartel in the world. You needed someone you could trust your daughter with, apart from the two nannies the CIA was providing all around the clock. 

Of course the safer and easier way would have been to stay back in the states. Where your daughter could play outside without being watched by at least one CIA Agent. But ever since your husband died almost four years ago on a mission, you had been searching for the change you needed in your life. And against all better judgement you found yourself agreeing to go and take your six year old daughter Eva with you to Colombia. Was it crazy? Obviously. Did it still feel like the right decision? Absolutely.

Javier Peña was looking at you, a cigarette between his lips. The first three buttons of his baby blue shirt were open and his finger kept rubbing over the side of his face. You nodded at him before you focused back on the files in front of you.

“Do you think he would still look at you like that if he knew about Eva?” Enrique whispered. You rolled your eyes. 

“He can look at me all he wants. I know how good I look today,” you chuckled and made him laugh. You were wearing a white silk blouse and dark red dress pants.

You did enjoy flirting with Javier Peña. 

He and his partner Steve were the only ones around here who actually talked to you. And in Javier’s case, try to get into your pants. And a part of you did enjoy the attention you got for him.

No one had looked at you like he did since your late husband. 

And even though you knew it was dangerous to entertain his flirtations, you found yourself doing it. You found yourself thinking about him more often, even though you knew that nothing would ever come out of it. He was, well, he was Javier Peña. Fucking everything that just looked his way and you were a widowed single mom. 

Of course you did enjoy it when he invited you for a drink after work at the bar around the corner. Who wouldn’t enjoy being invited for a drink by a handsome man? The problem you had was that he knew exactly how handsome he was and he knew how to use it. Because deep down, in the moments Javier Peña was just himself and not the guarded DEA Agent with commitment issues, you could see him as a man you could fall in love with.

“Why did we end up in this shithole again?” Enrique asked. You were about to answer when Carillo came back in, shouting in Spanish and everyone around got up and moved.

“What’s happening?” You asked, internally cursing yourself for not knowing more Spanish.

“Something about La Quico and a brothel?” 

There was something about La Quico and a brothel and you knew from the moment you heard about the intel and the plan that it would go to shit. Now, as you were standing outside, bulletproof vest still on, watching how body after body was carried out of the building, you kept shaking your head. 

If any of these fuckers would have just listened to you. 

Woman after woman was carried out. Dead. But your knees almost gave out when you saw your partner's lifeless body being carried out. Hugging yourself, you looked away from him and up to the sky to stop yourself from crying, They did not need to see you crying. You would wait to break down until you were home and after your daughter was tucked it.

You felt someone stand next to you.

“I’m sorry,” Javier said and you breathed in deeply, not looking away from the sky.

“It’s not your fault,” you answered quietly. Because it wasn’t. Javier actually had been more than vocal about what a shit idea this was in the first place.

“I’m still sorry,” you smelled the smoke he breathed out and you finally looked at him. He looked as tired as you felt. You reached for the cigarette between his lips inhaling the smoke yourself, before you handed it back to him. Steve came to stand beside him, the same tired expression on his face.

“I think we could all use a drink,” he said and you sighed.

“He’s been my partner for more than 8 years. And my friend for almost 20,” you shook your head, looking at Steve before your eyes fell back on Javier.

“I really wanna go home.” 

“We’ll take you.” Steve said.

You could still see the lights on in your daughters room and you sighed. You weren’t ready to tell her that her Uncle Ric wouldn’t be helping her with her Spanish skills anymore, that he wouldn’t help her paint her bedroom after he made the big plan for her to get her jungle book room.

“I’ll walk you in,” Javier said as the car stopped. You only nodded, saying your thanks to Steve as you stepped out and walked across the street. 

“Are you okay on your own tonight?” He asked, as you opened the door to the house, walking in. Javier kept following you.

“I’m not alone, and I am planning on getting drunk and then cry myself to sleep. It’s Saturday tomorrow right?” You asked and he nodded. 

“I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” Javier said quietly. You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes and you prayed he would just turn around and leave. You just nodded, your lips already trembling. The reality of how alone you felt hit you like a brick as you looked at the apartment door across from yours, where Enrique lived… used to live. 

“Please go Javier. I don’t need you to see me breaking down,” you pleaded and turned away from him, putting the key into the lock of your apartment.

He sighed before he said your name. You felt his hand on your shoulder and against your better judgement you turned around and let him pull you against him, as you sobbed into his shirt.

You blamed it on the loss of your best friend, the need to feel something, that you just leaned in, your ear on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his hands rubbed soothingly over your back.

“You are going to get through this,” he whispered. You enjoyed this moment. Standing outside of your apartment in his arms. He wasn’t being a flirt. He was just there to comfort you. You breathed in deeply, his scent in your nose and you had never noticed just how good he smelled.

“Thank you Javier,” you whispered and brought some distance in between you. Looking up into his tired eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you, you were more than grateful when you heard footsteps behind your door. Untangling yourself from him you brushed your tears away and put a smile on your lips just in time before the door opened. Eva jumped into your arms as you turned around.

“I missed you Mommy!” She giggled and you felt yourself smile as you picked her up and carried her in your arms.

“I missed you too, princess,” you whispered into her hair, before you set her down.

Looking up you saw Maria standing there with a tired smile on her lips. 

“I tried everything Miss, but she wanted to wait until you’re home.” 

“It’s okay. Thank you,” you nodded at her. She looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding Javier standing in your door as if he was out of place. Maria nodded at him as she said her goodbyes. He stepped out of her way as she left.

“Either in or out Pena,” you said. He looked at you, about to open his mouth when Eva came back with a painting she had made today.

“Who is that?” She asked looking at Javier.

“That is one of the Agents I’m working with,” you explained nodding at him. He still looked between you and Eva like a fish out of the water before he shook out of it.

“I’m Javi. And I should go before my partner drives off without me,” he said the last words looking at you. You nodded.

“Bye Javi. Thanks for bringing my mom home safe,” Eva smiled, and you sighed.

“Go brush your teeth, I’ll tuck you in in just a moment, okay?” You smiled down at her, your hands brushing over her cheek before you leaned down to kiss her forehead. She nodded, waving towards Javier and left the room to go to the bathroom.

“She’s a…” Javier began.

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking towards him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“You never asked,” you shrugged. He nodded. You could see the many questions he had in his eyes. 

“Will the two of you be okay here tonight? Alone?”

“We will. Thank you. And now go, before Steve actually drives off without you,“ you smiled forced.

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday?” He asked, sucking his bottom lip in. You nodded.

“Good night Javier,” He nodded too and turned around, slowly walking down the hallway.

“It’s Javi,” he called over his shoulder and you frowned.

“Friends get to call me Javi,” he looked at you. You had to smile at that before you finally closed the door behind you.

Within two weeks after this day, everything had changed. You moved into the same building as Javi and Steve, after a brief visit to the states for Enrique’s funeral. You actually found a close friend in Steve’s wife Connie. But most of all the absence of your best friend had been hard on you. 

You never actually told him how grateful you were for his help. And for coming to this country with you, just because you felt the need to change your life. You spend the nights crying yourself to sleep, feeling responsible for his death. If he hadn’t agreed to come down to Colombia with you, he would still be alive. 

And you wouldn’t have to look into your daughters sad eyes when she remembered that Uncle Ric wouldn’t come around to cook her favourite meal. You never learned the secret on what exactly Enrique did with the mac & cheese that made her go absolutely nuts, and now you wouldn’t have a chance to. 

Work had been one big mess ever since the fail at the brothel. And it took all willpower you had to not go around and tell everyone “I told you so”. You also had a new partner. Well, two. Steve and Javier insisted on you joining them. Not that you had a chance when you came back on Monday morning and your desk was standing a joined to theirs. You had spend the whole weekend crying when you weren’t around Eva and this had almost made you tear up again.

Javier had almost entirely stopped flirting with you, which was the biggest change. He had actually been nothing but nice and respectful and you were wondering what it was that made him like this. Not that you minded. 

He made the effort to get to know you, asking little question here and there. Asking about Eva and what her hobbies were. 

You were fascinated by this side of Javi you got to know now. 

But somehow you missed the way he used to look at you. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” Steve asked, as you were sitting over another file of leads going nowhere.

“We wanted to paint Eva’s room. She chose green. And I absolutely hate it,” you chuckled.

“How come you never told anyone you had a kid?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“No one ever asked,” You shrugged. 

“People don’t really talk to me because I'm CIA and I'm a woman. And I don’t speak more than 10 words of Spanish.”

“Yikes, we really are assholes,” Steve shook his head and you laughed.

“Well… You’re not that bad. And you have a wife that bakes cake, so you’re on my good side,” you joked and Steve chuckled. 

“But what is going on with Javier lately?”

“So you noticed it too? I kept asking him but he just shrugged it off.” 

“Maybe he needs to get laid,” you shrugged and Steve grinned.

“You offering?” You heard Javier’s voice behind you and you glared at Steve who tried not to laugh. Turning in your seat you looked up at the man in question. He grinned down at you.

“What if I told you I'm a lesbian?”

“That would only make it hotter,” he winked. You turned in your seat looking at Steve. “Okay I think he’s back.” You chuckled.

“If you need any help, just say the word,” Steve said as you walked down the hallway. It was Friday and you had just come home. One of the perks of living together with Javi and Steve was that you could use one car to get to work. 

“Will do, thanks!” You smiled. 

“Help with what?” Javi asked, standing next to you. You were now occupying the apartment across from him.

“I want to paint Eva’s room tomorrow. And let’s just say it’s not my biggest talent. Enrique used to do things like that. He actually planned the whole thing,” you smiled sadly looking at the floor before you breathed in deeply and looked at Javi. He had a strange expression on his face.

“What about I’ll come help and you cook that thing you have been cooking last weekend?” he rubbed his moustache.

“You can come over for some food without working, Javi,” you said right away. 

“You tell me that now? What is it you cooked there last week?”

“I’m trying to figure out how Enrique made his mac & cheese cause Eva loved it so much.” You said quietly. You could hear her laughter behind the door.

“Sorry. I… Fuck. I keep reminding you of his death,” Javier shook his head.

“You’ve been a big help. I mean it. And if you want to spend your Saturday painting my daughter's room, you are welcome to do it,” you shrugged. He smiled a little.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then.” 

One thing you noticed since moving was that Javier was a night owl. Of course you knew about his reputation but you didn’t judge him. He was an attractive man. If you were him you would use that to your advantage too. When Eva was in bed, and you were sitting in yours, a glass of wine in hand as you continued to work on files it was more than once that you heard just how much of a night owl Javier was. Either his women were very good actors or he really knew what he was doing.  

“Mommy?” You heard the sleepy voice of your daughter and looked up from your book. She was standing in your door, her hair a wild mess. You looked at the clock. Nearly 1 am.

“Bad dream?” You asked. You saw her nod.

“Come here,” you smiled.

She climbed under your covers, snuggling to your side as you closed your book, setting it down on the bedside table. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked softly, stroking away her hair so you could look at her. She shook her head. 

“Okay,” you kissed her head.

It was a couple minutes later, you thought she was already asleep when she mumbled. 

“You are not gonna leave me too mommy, right?” she whispered. 

You gulped, pulling her closer towards you. 

“I’m never gonna leave you baby,” you promised, your heart breaking. 

She nodded. 

“I miss Uncle Ric,” she said. You fought the tears. 

“I miss him too,” you whispered. 

You didn’t know how long you laid in bed, watching your daughter fall asleep. You had questioned coming to Colombia from the beginning. 

You had been looking to change jobs for a while, and the job in Colombia was the only job the CIA had offered to various agents who had all declined it. Now that you were living here, you knew why. 

It was beyond dangerous to take your daughter to this country. The CIA took your safety serious, which could have to do with how your late husbands death, which happened on a mission the CIA fucked up. 

You could have asked the CIA for everything and they probably would have given it to you, just to keep you quiet. And maybe you should just have taken the money they offered you, buy a house on the beach, settle down with your daughter somewhere safe. 

But there was always a little part of you brain that wanted to…. Avenge the death of your husband who had died because he found himself in the middle of a cartel deal gone wrong in Mexico. 

You looked at your daughter, hoping that your selfish decision would not cost her more of her family in the future, before you let yourself finally drift of to sleep. 

There was a knock on the door just as you finished washing the dishes from breakfast. Eva was wearing a bright blue kids overall you had bought while getting supplies to paint, running past you to the door before she stopped and turned around. 

„Can I open Mommy?“ She asked. 

„You gotta ask whose there first,“ you remind her and she nodded.

„WHO’S THERE?“ She yelled loudly through the door and you chuckled. 

„Uh…. Javi?“ The man behind the door said, sounding it like a question. Eva looked at you and you nodded at her and she unlocked the door and opened it. 

Javi looked at Eva then at you before he stepped into your apartment. 

„Next time we need the codeword from you Javi,“ Eva said and he nodded seriously. 

„What is the codeword?“

„Pancakes,“ she whispered loudly.

„Good morning,“ he said a little awkward. Eva threw the door closed behind him, before she ran back towards her room. 

You shook your head amused.

„Good Morning Javi. Ready to spend time with a six year old girl who is obsessed with the jungle book?“ You asked, drying your hands, before you turned around to him. 

He was wearing some older looking jeans and a white, very tight, T-Shirt. 

„I have you know I have a lot of younger cousins. I think I can handle one girl,“ he said over confident and you nodded. 

„We will see,“ you said, a smile playing around your lips before you nodded with your head towards your daughters bedroom.

You stopped counting after the tenth time Eva insisted on replaying The Bare Necessities. It was a surprisingly fun day. 

You had to admit that you had underestimated Javier Peña.

You knew he was good at his job, but you didn’t know he was good with children. He explained every step he made to paint the walls to Eva and praised her when she began to paint herself. And he listened to every story your daughter told him. Never annoyed with her, always asking follow up questions. 

And once she brought out her little recorder and played the jungle book tape you even noticed him humming along to the song, making you smile as you watched them both together. 

They had both threw you out of her room so you could make dinner, leaving Javi and Eva to rearrange her room now that it was finished painting. 

You could hear them laugh and you found yourself smiling to yourself. You missed the sound of her laughter ever since Enrique died. 

You had put the Mac & cheese into the oven when Javier walked into your kitchen. 

He had paint all over his arms, his shirt too. There was a smile on his lips and you found yourself smiling back. 

„Enough Jungle book?“ You asked and he huffed a laugh. 

„For now. She’s rearranging her stuffed animals on her bed,“ he said, leaning with his hip at the kitchen counter, watching you. 

„Oh good. This will take her at least an hour. She’s a little perfectionist,“ you said. 

„That’s… That’s good…“ Javi hummed and you frowned, turning towards him. He had a hand on his hip, his other hand pulling at his lip as he looked at you. 

„Why?“ You asked. 

He seemed… nervous. His eyes focused on you, seemingly fighting with himself about something. 

„Javi…“ you started but he stepped towards you, one of his hands coming up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips. Your breath hitched and you looked at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted. 

You were nervous, but not in a bad way. It was more… anticipation of what would happen next. 

„Can I kiss you?“ He asked. Instead of answering you nodded slowly, seeing him smile before he leaned in and kissed you softly. Your eyes slipped close and his lips found yours. You felt his other hand come to rest on the back of your head, and he slowly guided you so your back was against the counter as he slowly deepened the kiss. His tongue brushing over your lips until you parted them for him, sighing against his mouth. You rested one of your hands on his chest, your other hand in his hair as he moved his lips over yours. 

He rested his forehead against yours as he parted form your lips, both of you panting for air. 

„Wow,“ you whispered, opening your eyes. He was smiling at you. 

„Yeah,“ he whispered, kissing you again. 

You both jumped apart when you heard Eva call for you. You felt like a teenager who got caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing when you looked at Javi. You both chuckled at each other and you took a deep breath. 

„I should check on her,“ you said. He nodded. 

„Go. I’ll keep an eye on dinner,“ he said. You ran a hand through your hair, before you turned around, seeing Javi adjust himself out of the corner of your eyes. 

Date Nights were not something you ever had before. Yes you went on dates when you were married, but there was never a big fuss about it. 

Javier on the other hand, had taken you out every Friday night since you kissed. And it didn’t matter that you couldn’t openly date, not just because of work, but because the cartels had eyes everywhere, you were just happy to bet able to spend time with him outside of work.

Steve and Connie were happy to watch Eva for the evening, happy to have someone to play with their recently adopted daughter Olivia. You had been there in the house when Olivia was found. The scene still haunting your dreams. 

Javier and you remained strictly professional at work. Of course there was talk about how Javier hadn’t been to a brothels in some time, but no one ever dared to ask, because he still got his intel from the girls. 

You weren’t officially dating, but the both of you spend almost all your free time together. Things had become so domestic that even Eva seemed to realise things were changing. Not that you were hiding it from her. Javier had started to hang out at your place some more. Dinner for the three of you becoming a almost daily fixture whenever Javi was around and not working. 

There were secret touches around Eva at the beginning until she caught Javier kissing you goodbye one night. She had a million questions for the both of you, and you had to give it to Javi, he answered every single one of them until Eva was satisfied, allowing him to date her mommy which you found beyond adorable. 

You could never even entertain the thought of dating someone your daughter didn’t like. 

That your daughter approved of this new man in your life made the change that was coming even harder. 

Things in Colombia were getting more and more dangerous, leaving you to make the difficult decision to go back to the states. You had put in a request to get relocated which had been approved the week before. 

You and Eva would be going back tomorrow leaving you to have to start over again. It had actually been Javier who had brought his concerns in the first place about you and your daughters safety up. You knew that coming to Colombia as a woman working for the CIA would put a target on your back. But the cruelty of the cartels and above all Pablo Escobar were at an all time high and to hard to ignore much longer. 

So this Friday night would be your last date night with Javier for a while. He had taken you out to your favourite restaurant and held your hand all night, proud to show you off now that the both of you did not have to hide anymore. 

It was the first time he kissed you in a crowded room, unafraid of who was watching. Because he knew you would be safe and out of the country in less than 15 hours. 

And while the two of you had kissed for the first time almost three months before, you did not have sex yet. 

Something you meant to change tonight. 

You unlocked the door to your apartment, inviting him in. He had helped you put your whole life in boxes, promising to oversee them being shipped off to your new home. 

„You gonna tell me where you going yet?“ He asked as you made the both of you a drink. You bit your bottom lip as you turned around, handing him the glass. 

He knew you were going to Texas, he just didn’t know where. 

Javier took a sip while you took one too before you set the glass down on the kitchen table. 

„Laredo,“ you said and his eyes widened. 

„I’m transferring to the DEA in Laredo, Texas,“ you added, waiting for his reaction. You never really talked about the future. But Javier was a man you could see yourself growing old with. You knew he had his own demons, thinking he did not deserve to be loved. 

He had told you that he wanted to work on himself once he was finished with Colombia. 

„Say that again,“ he asked you. He was looking at you with warm eyes, a smile forming on his lips. 

„Eva and me will be moving to Laredo, Texas,“ you said, smiling yourself. 

„Where?“ He asked.

„I found a house. But it needs some work. So I talked to your Dad the last time he called to ask for some help to find a contractor and he offered us his guest room,“ you said shyly. Javi laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

He sat the glass down and walked to you, his hands crossing on your lower back, his chest against yours. 

„You did this all behind my back?“ He asked. You nodded. 

„Surprise?“ You asked and he kissed you. 

„You gonna be on our farm?“

„Eva is already looking forward to learn how to ride a horse,“ you nodded. 

„Fuck, she’s gonna have my Dad wrapped around her little finger in no time,“ he chuckled.

„Just like she has you?“ You asked and cried out in laughter as he dinged his fingers into your side, making you giggle. 

„Rude,“ he said. 

„But true,“ you shrugged and he kissed you again. 

„I’m not complaining,“ he mumbled against your lips. You sighed as his lips slowly kissed down your jaw and then your neck. 

„Javi,“ you gasped and he hummed against your skin. 

„Please take me to bed,“ you whispered and he looked up at you. 

„Are you asking me…“

„Yeah…“ you nodded, both of your hands resting against his chest. He took a deep breath. 

„I need words,“ he clarified and you got on your tiptoes. 

„I wanna have sex with you Javier,“ you whispered against his ear.

He took his time undressing you, once you made it to your bedroom. His lips following a path of every inch of skin he revealed. When you were standing in just your underwear in front of him before he kissed you, mumbling against your lips how beautiful you were, before he helped you strip him off his clothes. 

You gulped when you saw his cock for the first time, not really surprised at the lack of underwear on his side. Biting your lip you looked up at him, seeing him wink at you before he kissed you again. 

He laid you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours. 

You moaned when you felt his weight on top of you, his arms resting next to your head to keep him hovering above you. You felt him rub against you, his cock rubbing against your stomach, making you both groan. 

He slowly kissed down your body. 

Your neck.

Your collarbone. 

Right between your breasts. He looked up at you then a question in his eyes. You arched your back and he smiled as he reached around and unhooked your bra, slowly pulling it down your shoulders until he could pull it off. 

„Beautiful,“ he hummed, his lips kissing the top of each breast before he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimpered, your back arching again, your hands playing with his hair to keep him close. 

He moaned against your skin, his tongue playing with your now hard nipple inside his mouth. 

„Javi,“ you moaned softly and  he released your nipple. 

„Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,“ he grinned and you felt yourself flush, giving him a shy smile. 

„I wanna taste you,“ he said, kissing your other breast. 

„Mhhh,“ you hummed.

His lips wandered down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button with a grin before he kissed right above your panty line. 

You released a shaky breath and he smiled at you. 

„Can I take this off?“ He asked. You nodded, biting your lip. His fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties and he kneeled between your legs pulling them down. Both of his hand ran up your thigh as he leaned back down, his face resting just above your pussy. 

„You’re so wet,“ he said in wonder and you smiled. 

„Just for you.“

He hummed before his face lowered and his lips kissed just above your clit. He inhaled deeply, releasing a groan. 

„Gonna miss this when you’re gone,“ he whispered and you sighed. 

„Guess you have to come home to me quickly then,“ you said and he smiled as he looked up at you. 

„I like the sound of that,“ he said.

„What?“ You asked. 

„Coming home to you,“ he whispered before he licked into you. You grabbed the bedsheet beneath you as he began to eat you out, parting your legs even further. His big hands kept you in place while he devoured you. His tongue playing with your clit before it dipped down and into you. 

„Javi please…“ you moaned.

„Please what?“ He asked.

„Make me cum?“ You begged and he chuckled. 

„Already begging for me….“ He teased and you lightly kicked him in his side, making him chuckle before he leaned back in, eating you out until you were moaning his name, your legs shaking in his hold. He kissed your pussy after you calmed down and have you a proud grin and he leaned back above you, his lips finding yours to give you a deep kiss where you could taste yourself. 

You angled one leg behind him, pushing him down against you. 

„Fuck me, Javi. I want you inside of me,“ you mumbled against his lips.

„Fuck,“ he cursed. He grabbed his cock, lining himself up against your pussy. 

You both moaned when he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch filling you smoothly until his whole cock was inside of you, filling you perfectly. His forehead came to rest against yours and you wiggled your hips, making him groan. 

„Fuck…. Please give me a moment…“ he groaned and you smiled, pecking his lips. He kissed you slow but deep. Licking into your mouth. 

You made out for a while before he slowly bottomed out and pushed back into you, keeping a slow pace. 

„Feels fucking perfect, baby,“ he moaned against your lips, fucking you deeply. 

You wrapped both of your legs around him, your hands on his back and in his hair. 

„Shit I’m not gonna last, feels so good, he groaned and you felt one of his hands slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. 

„I want you to cum with me,“ he said and began to circle your clit while he fucked faster into you. 

„Javi,“ you whimpered, arching your back. His head dipped down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He pulled your nipple between his teeth, pulling it playfully and your whole body shuddered as your orgasm washed over you, whimpering beneath him just as he twitched and came deep inside of you. 

You sighed, your fingers brushing through his hair as he kissed you, both of you smiling against each others lips. 

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each others embrace before he slowly pulled out of you, pecking your lips. He went to the bathroom to clean himself off, bringing a washcloth to clean you too. 

„I’m gonna get Eva from Steve and Connie’s,“ he mumbled against your lips and you nodded dreamily at him, watching him as he got dressed. 

You got into your bathrobe and walked out of your bedroom just as Javi walked back into your apartment, a sleeping Eva in his arms. 

Smiling at him you opened the door to her bedroom for him, watching him as he put her carefully into her bed. He had been doing this since the first date night, and it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect Javi fit into your life. 

He kissed her forehead before he walked towards you, taking your hand to lead you back into your bedroom. 

You knew you had to sleep but as you watched Javi strip out of his clothes and get into bed with you you were overcome with a sadness, knowing that his was the last time you would see him for a while. 

You laid in bed, facing each other. 

„I love you,“ you whispered, wanting him to hear the words before you leave. 

He gave you a soft smile before he slipped closer towards you, his nose brushing over yours. 

„I love you too,“ he whispered back and kissed you. 

Both of you finding close to no sleep until it was time to get ready to leave for the airport the next morning. 

„Bye Javi,“ Eva sobbed as Javi held her in his arms the next morning. She was clinging to him like a koala, clutching his shirt in her tiny fists. He was still holding your hand.

Javi had gotten breakfast while you got Eva ready before he drove you both to the airport.

You saw him take a shaky breath, kissing her hair. 

„I’m gonna miss you,“ she mumbled and you felt tears stinging in the corner of your eyes. 

„I’m gonna miss you and your mom too. So much,“ Javi whispered, pulling you closer. He let go of your hand to put his arm around you, pulling you into the hug. 

„You have to fight the bad guys. And then you can come live with us all the time,“ Eva mumbled and Javi looked at you. You gave him a watery smile.

„I’ll do my best. Be good for your mommy,“ he said and you saw her nod, before he slowly let her down. She hugged your side and you wrapped your arm around her. 

„Be safe,“ you whispered looking up at him. 

„I will,“ he promised before he kissed you softly. 

„I love you,“ you said and he smiled, a tear now running down his cheek. 

„I love you, too,“ he kissed you again.

#my fic #javier peña #Javier Peña x fem reader #Pedro pascal #narcos fanfiction #narcos #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[happy74827]

Cool Rider

[Steve Rogers x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When another date ends in disaster, and Steve shows up in an attempt to “cheer” you up, you’re instantly against everything. But it’s Steve, and you should know by now that he never takes no for an answer.

WC: 3859

Category: Fluff

A lot of people liked my other Steve fic, so I felt inclined to make another. This time with a lot more fluff (you’re welcome @summerrivera777777).

『••✎••』

Needless to say, you were shocked when you heard the roar of a motorcycle.

You didn’t do well with dates. In your 24 years of life, you had a total of one boyfriend, and he was the absolute worst. So, in the last six months, you have been avoiding all social activities like the plague and focusing solely on yourself and your future.

That meant that you had become very comfortable being a hermit and avoiding any and all contact with other human beings. You were happy that way.

So why was a man who looked like an absolute God sitting on a motorcycle at the front door of your house?

Well, because you broke that rule a week ago.

In all fairness, the man was cute. A nerdy, awkward kind of cute. And he was a gentleman. And you were lonely.

So, when he asked you for your number, you were too lonely to turn him down. You hadn’t expected him to call, and you certainly didn’t expect him to ask you out on a date. But you also didn't think you would have the willpower to say no.

So you accepted, and it turned out to be the biggest regret of your life. The “nerd” was actually a complete dick, and after 30 minutes, you just wanted to go home. But you couldn’t because he refused to pay for the meal, so you were stuck there with him.

The worst part of the night was when he got into his car and tried to follow you home. He kept insisting that he just wanted to be a good guy and make sure that you got home safely, but you were sure that he just wanted to see where you lived and probably get in a few gropes along the way.

Luckily, you were able to lose him about three blocks from your house. It was a good thing, too, because your phone had died a couple of blocks ago, and you were afraid that if you got caught by him, you wouldn't have a way to call for help.

The next day, you made an executive decision to stay the hell away from men, with the exception of a few nice, safe friends. That was how you ended up here, seven days later, hiding in your room and ignoring your doorbell.

The bell kept ringing, and you knew that whoever was out there wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Groaning, you threw your covers off of your body and stomped towards the front door.

You threw open the door, ready to rip someone a new one, when your angry speech caught in your throat.

Steve Rogers was standing on your front porch.

He was a friend from work, to simplify a very long story. You met him two years ago when you started at SHIELD. You were a tech genius, and you worked closely with the Avengers to keep their equipment running.

Steve was always sweet and funny. You had a lot in common and were very close. After a while, you started hanging out with him and his friends, Natasha, Sam, and Bucky. It was great.

As exceptions to men go, he was definitely a big one. He was a walking god, with the physique and the looks to prove it. And here he was, on your front porch, holding keys that belonged to the motorcycle parked out front.

You looked at the motorcycle, then back to Steve, before your face went blank.

"No."

"What?"

"No."

Steve cocked an eyebrow. A smile tugged at his lips as if he were amused. "No?"

"Nope. Whatever you're trying to sell, I'm not buying."

"Why would I be trying to sell you something? I’m not even selling anything."

"It’s an expression, Steve, Jesus." You said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. Steve might’ve been your best friend, but the guy was such a 90-year-old sometimes. "If you think that I'm going to get on that thing with you, you're wrong. It's death on two wheels."

His eyes widened in surprise, a laugh bubbling in his throat. He looked over his shoulder at the bike, then back to you.

"That's... a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"I'm serious, Steve. It's not happening. I don't trust that thing, and I'm not going to die in some freak accident."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his leather jacket tightening over his biceps. His smile didn't fade as he spoke, which only annoyed you more.

"It's not going to kill you. I’m quite insulted that you would think that I would put you in danger."

"You're an Avenger. You put me in danger just by existing."

His lips twitched, and you had the feeling that he was holding back a comment.

"Look," he said, leaning against the door frame. "You haven't come out with us in weeks, and I'm worried. It's not healthy to lock yourself in your house all the time. With the job we have, there's never a guarantee of tomorrow, and if I were you, I'd want to spend every day living it to the fullest."

His words caught you off guard. He was right. It had been almost two months since you had gone out with the group. You just couldn't find the motivation. You were content being at home, alone. You had gotten a little lax in your friendships, only going to work and coming straight home. And now, with the… issues… with your date, you just didn't have the heart to try again.

You could feel your resolve starting to crumble, but you tried to stay strong.

"That's a low blow, Rogers." You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "But my answer is still no."

"You think that was a low blow?” He scoffed as he pushed himself away from the door and took a step forward.

He was so much taller than you, and his presence was overwhelming. With the added tightness of his clothing and the confidence in his eyes, it tricked your eyes into seeing him as bigger than he really was. He was big, of course, but right now, it felt like he was towering over you.

Your heart began to race, a flush spreading over your cheeks.

"You clearly never played football because if you did, you'd know that this was a real low blow."

Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You squealed, slapping your hand against his lower back. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and you could see the muscles ripple in his back with every step that he took. "Put me down!"

"You're going to have fun today."

"Steve! Put me down right now! I swear to God if you don't-"

"You'll what?" He laughed, the deep rumble making your stomach flutter. "Punish me?"

You huffed as you pounded on his back with your fist. You weren't mad at him, really; you just didn't know how to respond.

Steve practically dragged you outside. You were sure that you looked ridiculous, but you were thankful that you lived far enough away from your neighbors for no one to witness this. When he finally set you down next to the motorcycle, you gave him a glare.

"You're an ass, Steve Rogers."

He gave you a smirk as he swung his leg over the bike, his leather jacket tightening around his arm as his muscles flexed. Personally, you hated leather, but the way it fit him...

"Steve, I’m not wearing the right clothes."

He was quiet as his eyes swept over you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top since it was the middle of summer and you were hot, but he was looking at you like you were covered head to toe in leather.

"We can go buy something and change in the bathroom or something."

He seemed to think for a moment before he gave a single nod.

"Sure."

He started the bike and motioned for you to get on behind him. Goddamn it, Steve.

Sighing, you swung your leg over the bike and wrapped your arms around his torso. It was an incredibly intimate position, with your body pressed up against his and your faces mere inches apart. For a moment, you didn’t even realize when he swung a helmet down in front of your face.

"Put this on, Scaredy-Cat."

"Shut up, I'm not scared. Just... concerned."

He raised an eyebrow at you, his smirk still ever-present. You rolled your eyes before slipping the helmet onto your head.

The engine rumbled beneath you, and Steve revved the engine a couple of times, laughing when you squeaked in surprise and gripped him tighter. You could feel the laughter in his chest, his muscles moving under your fingers.

"Hold on tight, princess. Wouldn't want you falling off."

"You're a dick."

"Language."

"I will push you off this bike."

Steve didn't say anything; he just pulled the kickstand up and eased the bike into drive.

You squealed when the bike began to move, tightening your hold on Steve and burying your face in his back. He didn’t seem to mind; he just chuckled and sped up a bit.

You tried not to scream as he maneuvered the bike through traffic, weaving in and out of cars. It was a terrifying experience, especially since you had the distinct impression that Steve was taking advantage of the situation and driving recklessly.

You felt the wind on your legs and the constant hair strands whipping into your face, but you refused to look up. The speed, the closeness of the cars, and the fact that there was nothing keeping you on the bike except for Steve made it impossible to even think about moving.

When Steve finally stopped the bike, you had your eyes closed tight, and your body pressed completely up against him. Your arms were wrapped around him so tightly he was surprised you could breathe.

He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before gently prying your hands off of him and stepping off the bike. He turned and reached out a hand for you, waiting patiently for you to move. When you didn’t, he moved back towards the bike and took the helmet off your head.

You were breathing hard, trying desperately not to show how scared you were.

"It wasn’t that bad."

You shot him a glare, which made him grin.

"Just... shut up."

He laughed and helped you off the bike, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He was a gentleman, of course, and you couldn’t complain about the feeling of his hard body pressed up against yours, but the sudden closeness was a bit overwhelming.

"Ugh, I think I have whiplash."

"Liar," said Steve with another laugh, be dramatic. You liked it, admit it."

"Whatever, why are you even kidnapping me, anyways?"

"I told you. It's not healthy to sit in a dark room, alone, all day, every day."

"First, rude.” You said, giving him a nudge in the side. He let out a small sound, which made your eyes widen in surprise.

"Did that hurt you, oh Captain, my Captain?"

"It didn't hurt," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "And second?"

"What?"

"First, rude," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Second?"

"Oh! Yeah, why are we actually doing this?"

That’s when Steve paused. Your heart instantly dropped at his hesitation. Steve only hesitated for two reasons. The first reason would be if he were completely at a loss for words, and clearly, by his recent attitude, that wasn’t the case. So that left the second reason: because he knew something that he either didn’t want to tell you or something he wasn’t supposed to know.

With recent events, it wasn’t difficult to guess what was happening.

"Natasha told you, didn't she."

You were already pulling away from him, ready to go back home and hide in your bed for the rest of eternity, when he caught your wrist.

“Hey,” His voice was softer, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It doesn't matter. What matters is that you have a good time today, alright? So, forget about what happened, forget about what Natasha said, and just focus on having a good day. Okay?"

“I don’t want a pity date, Steve. It’s nice that you care and everything, but-”

"I'm not pity dating you." His voice was firm, and his face was hard, the complete opposite of the way it was just moments before.

"Then what do you call this? My actual date sucked, and I've been cooped up in my house, so you thought, 'Hey, why not take her out and show her a good time?'"

Steve let out a sigh and shook his head, his fingers loosening around your wrist. "No, no. That's not... I'm sorry."

The change in him was drastic. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and his head drooped like a kicked puppy.

"Steve,"

He lifted his head and looked at you, his baby-blue eyes filled with guilt.

"You have no idea how badly I want to punch that guy for treating you like that.” He spoke softly as if the words were only meant for him to hear. But, as the saying goes, the walls have ears, and the parking lot was pretty damn quiet. “But that's not what this is. You're my friend, and I hate to see you sad. I'm not here just because of a stupid date. I'm here because I care about you."

There was a pause, a heavy silence hanging between the two of you. He was looking at you expectantly, a pleading look in his eyes.

"I'm not going to make you talk about it if you don't want to."

"Okay,"

"And I'm not going to bring it up again unless you do.”

"Okay."

"And, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return, maybe a little more conversation, a smile, maybe a laugh, but other than that..."

A smile slowly crept onto your face. He had the uncanny ability to make everyone else smile, regardless of their mood, and he was the only one who could do it. It’s not that his jokes were particularly funny because they weren't, but it was the way he said them.

He was an awkward, nervous mess most of the time, but when he was confident when he was in his element, there was no stopping him.

"You sure you want to waste all your energy on me, old man?"

His lips twitched at the nickname, his eyes brightening. "For you, doll? Anything."

And there it was. That goddamn smile that made your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt in your stomach. He was just too sweet, and it was completely unfair.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you close. "Let's get you something nice."

You smiled as you walked next to him. As much as you hated the motorcycle ride, it was nice to spend some time with Steve. He parked outside a Target, and the two of you walked in, immediately making your way to the women's section.

You took charge almost immediately, going to the racks and picking out different things. Steve followed behind you, carrying your armfuls of clothes as you added more. You went through rack after rack, throwing the things that caught your eye into his arms.

After about the tenth outfit, you turned around and saw him standing there, his arms filled with clothing and a smile on his face. You ignored it or tried to, as you turned back around and went to another rack.

When you finally finished, you had an armful of outfits, and Steve was practically weighed down. He didn't seem to mind, though, and you had the feeling that he had enjoyed his role as a pack mule. When the shopping was done, you ran to the bathrooms and changed into the outfit while Steve waited outside.

A pullover hoodie and a pair of jeans, the closest thing that Target had to leather. Not exactly what you wanted, but it would work. When you stepped out of the stall, you found Steve sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through a magazine. Such a 90-year-old, again.

He looked up when he heard the door open, his eyes sweeping over your form.

"Where to now? The ditch?"

Steve rolled his eyes, a smile spreading across his lips. "You’re an avid book reader, right? What's the biggest bookstore in the area?"

"Are we going to Barnes and Noble or something?"

"If that's what's closest."

You paused, watching his expression. There was no sign of teasing, no hint that this was a joke.

"…Really? Barnes and Noble?"

"Is that an issue?"

The disbelief must have been written on your face because Steve gave a loud laugh, throwing his head back.

"Oh, come on. I can be spontaneous!"

"Sure," you mumbled, trying not to show how happy his statement had made you. He remembered a stupid fact about you that you had told him months ago. And he had stored it, not forgotten it.

You felt like you were in the twilight zone, but you weren't complaining.

Steve bought the outfit and threw the tags away, and the two of you got back on the motorcycle. It was easier, this time, with the knowledge that he had cared enough to listen to your ramblings. Maybe he cared enough to calm it.

You had your face buried in his back, not out of fear this time, but out of comfort. You couldn’t see him smile as he sped up, but you could feel it.

At Barnes and Noble, he sat and watched as you wandered the store, a smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, didn't pressure you into talking, didn’t even try to join in; he just sat and listened as you read him the summaries of the books. You didn’t even mean to; it just kind of happened.

One moment, you were looking through the books; the next, you were reading the synopsis out loud to Steve. He didn’t say anything, didn't make any indication that he was listening, but you could tell by the way his head would turn towards you when you spoke. And once again, Steve was your personal pack mule, carrying the books that you were interested in.

By the end of the night, he had an armful of books, a satisfied smile on his face, and you were laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed this much, the last time you had felt so happy.

When you got home, the sky was dark, and the moon was high. Steve followed you inside and set the books down on the coffee table. He had refused to let you carry them, insisting that they would get ruined in your hands. You didn't bother fighting him on it and allowed him to carry them.

"Do you want a drink or anything? Something to eat?" It was obvious you were slightly nervous now, but Steve didn’t seem the notice… or even care at this point.

"No, thank you. I should probably be getting back."

"Oh." You paused, not really wanting him to leave, but you couldn’t ask him to stay. You were friends, that was it, and nothing more. "Okay, yeah."

"Well," he started, his fingers flexing by his side. "I'll see you soon, then?"

"Yeah," you said, giving him a smile. "See you soon, Steve."

He looked like he was going to say something else before he gave you a soft smile and walked out.

Once he was gone, you shut the door and let out a sigh. Today was perfect, and you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself for enjoying yourself, hated that you were able to push away all thoughts of him. It was like the universe was taunting you, dangling the perfect guy in front of your face, and you couldn’t have him.

"Why him, huh?"

"I can still hear you." Steve's voice echoed through the house despite his absence in it, and you internally groaned as you got up to stare out the window. Damn, his super hearing.

You pulled the blinds aside and watched as Steve got on his bike, his helmet still in his hands.

"Steve."

He paused, turning his head towards the house. He couldn’t hear what you were saying now that he was by his bike, not with the closed windows, but he could see the silhouette of your body against the curtains. You lifted it up in an instant, an invitation.

"Steve.” You repeated, and this time he heard it. Loud and clear.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean it? That this wasn’t a pity date?"

Steve paused for a moment, his lips slightly parted. After a moment, he rested his helmet on the handlebars and made his way back to you. He stopped inches from you, slightly bending down through the window.

A smile and a simple glimpse at your lips was his only answer. He looked back in your eyes, his expression soft, waiting. He was leaving it up to you, not wanting to push, not wanting to scare. He wanted it, but he wasn’t going to force it.

It was all the incentive that you needed.

You reached through the window and grabbed his jacket, pulling him forward and crashing your lips together. It was desperate and slightly awkward since you were halfway through the window, but neither of you seemed to care.

Steve reached forward and grabbed the side of the window, pushing it open even further and lifting you through. You let out a surprised squeak, which quickly turned into a moan as he pressed you up against the house.

His lips were warm and softer than you expected. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

After a few moments, Steve pulled away, his forehead resting on yours and a smile on his face.

"Okay, this wasn't a pity date."

Steve let out a laugh, the breath puffing against your face.

"Good. Glad we established that."

"What was this, then? I've been told that Captain America wasn’t one to put out on the first date."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely not. I'm a gentleman."

"Then what's this, Steve? What was today?"

His arm tightened around you, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Like I said, I can be spontaneous."

"Spontaneous," you mumbled, letting out a laugh.

"And," he continued, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "It seems good girls like a little bad every now and then. You especially, given your choice of dates."

"So, is that what this is? Captain America showing me a good time?"

"No. This is Steve Rogers showing his girl a good time."

"Your girl, huh?"

"Yeah," he murmured, his lips inches from yours. "My girl."

And when his lips met yours again, all you could think about was the leather jacket, the motorcycle, and the promise of more.

And a whole lot more bad.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers/reader #mcu #mcu steve rogers #mcu fic #steve rogers fic #x reader #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x female!reader #steve rogers x yn #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x yn #steve rogers imagine #fluff #mega fluff #marvelfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #thor odinson x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu fandom #natasha romanoff

[the-californicationist]

Sending hugs as always!!!! Soooo, another request with no rush intended. Not sure if you are familiar with “Cool.” Gwen Stefani song and video. Love lost but no love lost. Rainy days and nights. He sees you with your “new” love. All the memories come rushing back, and he has to have you!!!! Dripping wet in his fit!! Maybe he tries to sneak away with you?! You’re the genius!! Still loving your Fluff and Stories on AO3. Thanks always!! ❤️💜

hey babe!! love this ask. sorry for the wait! <3 <3 trying to get out chapter 2 of bear price before the weekend, but this one just wouldn't leave my WIP station, so i had to get it done. very cool premise. hope this comes close to what you wanted!!

Cloudy, with a Chance

John Price was not having a good day. He’d had worse days, to be sure, but as he trudged through yet another puddle, soaked through with this torrential rain, freezing to his bones, he thought it had turned out pretty bloody bad. 

For one, he couldn’t get you out of his mind. Your laugh and the stuttering hello of your voicemail greeting were taunting him like a vicious demon, and every time he brought himself to pleasure, it was your sweet moans that flooded through his mind. He’d also come back from the field to find his truck broken into and his storage unit payment almost three months overdue. Getting all of his belongings back in order had been a real fucking drag. None of this would’ve happened if you were still there.

But, you weren’t. 

You’d left him before his last tour, and that was almost six months ago. He could still hear your complaints in his mind, clear and orderly, like a list of commandments:

I’m tired of being left alone, John!

I can’t keep wondering if every phone call is about to tell me you’ve died.

You promised you’d be here for me, and you’re not. 

I’m not stitching up another bullet hole. I can’t.

How much more of yourself are you going to give them? They don’t deserve you.

What if I need you? 

It had been a rough tour. He’d called you a few times, and when you’d answered, the guilt rent through his heart like a stake. 

“John? What’s happened? Are you alright?”

“Aye, I’m fine. Lads are fine. Just… I needed to hear your voice.”

“It’s alright, John. I’m here.”

And you had been. You were still there for him. Sometimes, when he got your voicemail, he thought he’d reached the end of your generosity, but that wasn’t the hardest part. No, the worst thing was coming home to empty drawers and his toothbrush, lonely in its glass, all by itself. 

As he sheltered under the awning of a Nero’s coffee shop, he tried to get his bearings, deciding whether or not to wait out the storm. It was only by chance that he glanced into the window at Capello’s, and it was only by chance that the waiter had sat you and your date in the window seat. 

His breath caught in his chest when he realized it was you, and his shock turned from yearning to sadness to rage in the blink of an eye. Who was that muppet with his bloody fuckin’ hands all over you? You were his. 

Except you weren’t his. Not anymore. 

No, fuck that. 

He marched across the street, paying no mind to the honking traffic. A brief argument with the maître d' and he was through to the dining room. 

“John?” Your voice had an edge of panic, and your eyes were focused on him as he dripped his way across the carpet.

In fact, all eyes were on him, but he didn’t care. 

Your date looked more than a little put out, but when he started to stand up, Price grabbed his shoulder with no small amount of cruelty and shoved him back into his seat. 

“What’re you doin’ here, love? You fuckin’ hate Capello’s.”

“I don’t…” You looked around, lowering your voice, trying to get him to match your volume, “I’m on a date, Jonathan.”

“Don’t be stupid. You need to come home. I can’t do this without you. I can’t do anything without you, and I don’t care who bloody knows it. I need you, love. Please.”

“You can’t keep doing this! I deserve to have someone who is there for me when I need them to be,” you raised your voice again, frustrated by his words. 

Good. He liked it when you got all worked up.

“And you think this muppet can do more than me? Please.”

John rolled his eyes. The muppet tried to protest, moving to stand up again, only to be shoved back into position. 

You took a deep breath, and you tried not to notice just how small your date was compared to your ex-boyfriend. John towered over him, and his thigh was more than twice the size of this guy’s bicep. Seeing John’s huge hand covering this man’s frail-looking shoulder kind of gave you the ick for your date. 

You also tried to ignore your captain’s field-hardened body. He always came home so much more muscular, and so much larger, than he looked when he left. He was still soaking wet from the rain, drenched in his hoodie and tac-jacket. His canvas pants clung to his skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. But, that didn’t matter. You were imagining it anyway. 

What you couldn’t ignore was that cold, blue hunger in his eyes. His beard had grown out, and the scruff combined with his long hair, all raked back under that disgusting boonie hat, were doing things to you that made you clench your legs together, becoming acutely aware of how every piece of fabric felt as it touched your body, and you knew exactly how it would feel when he ripped it off of you. 

“Uh, hey. Listen, mate —” The date tried to protest weakly. 

“Shut up,” you and John spat at your date at the same time. 

John smiled at that, warming himself in your fire,

“C’mon, love. We’re leaving.”

He tossed a few wet hundred pound notes down on the table, not giving a shit if it was enough or not, and lifted the open bottle of wine from the ice bucket. His gaze fell to your date for a fleeting second, and he said, 

“Cheers, mate.”

His hand grabbed yours and helped you from your seat, leading you outside. Once he had you back in your coat, he took you out into the rain, keeping his warm palm planted on the small of your back, and he didn’t say one single word to you until you were back in the foyer of his flat, dripping onto the marble tiles, panting and breathless in the quiet entrance, listening to his keys jingle in the lock. 

“Let’s get you dry, love. Then,” he was breathless from the rain and from something else, “We’ll get your things. Put them back where they go, yeah?”

You nodded dumbly, shivering from the cold,

“Yeah. Okay, John.”

“Get inside, love. That a new dress?”

“Mmhm,” you let him towel you dry in the entrance, feeling how strong he was even though you knew he was trying to be gentle with you. 

“Take it off.”

His voice had a tone that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on its end. You followed his command almost immediately, feeling your body rush with shock and excitement. 

John caught you by your arms and shoved you against the wall in the foyer, his eyes bearing down into you with a fiery intensity you’d never seen. He spoke through his teeth, gravelly and dark, full of warning,

“You belong here with me. I don’t want any more dates. I want you to be mine, and I bloody well want to be yours. Let me.”

“Alright, John,” you whispered, holding your breath, nervous and waiting.

“Don’t,” he pressed his forehead against yours like he had a fever, “Don’t say yes unless you mean it, love.”

You pushed his head back with yours just enough to reach his cheek. You kissed it as softly as you could, moving down his jaw and onto his neck, feeling his blood rush through his veins warming his skin beneath your lips. 

His hands fell away from your arms and you grabbed his hands, holding them in yours, still speaking to him in a low whisper, not wanting to break his spell,

“I’m yours, John. You’re all I have thought about for six months, and I don’t want to be without you. I don’t know what I was saying…”

He grabbed you on either side of your face and kissed you deeply, pushing his body into yours, grinding his wet clothes into you, and not caring a bit about the puddle on the floor,

“Shh. You’re mine. That’s all I need to hear.”

You looked into each others’ eyes and got lost for a moment. The blues of his irises were icy and sharp, tracking your every movement, your every breath. His sudden command pulled you out of your trance, 

“Take off your dress.”

John watched you as you slipped the straps off your shoulders, revealing your bare breasts to him, your nipples pebbled from the cold, damp cloth. It fell, cascading down your body, showing off the black lace panties you wore underneath. Your strappy heels kicked the gown away from you, and you squirmed under his scrutiny,

“Were you gonna show him these?” John’s fingertips grazed the panties right above your clit, making little petting strokes with the back of his hand. 

“Yeah,” you lifted your chin, challenging him, willing to face his jealous wrath. 

“Yeah?” John growled, taking your bait, fisting your dripping hair in his hand and forcing your head back, baring your smooth neck to him, “On a first date? You must have been hungry for it, love.” He taunted you, touching your lips through the lace. 

“Second date…” You flashed your eyes up at him, knowing he would snarl, and he did. 

“Second… Mm,” John grabbed the panties by the front fabric and ripped them from your hips with one cruel tug. You gasped, and he caught your mouth with his, kissing you as his fingers found a different kind of wetness pooling between your legs, “My poor darling. You know he wouldn’t be enough for you. You’d have been so… fucking… disappointed...”

With every word of his last phrase, he thrust his fingers inside of you to their knuckle, lifting your body as he did so, his strength fully apparent. 

“Did you miss me?” He asked you quietly. All the anger was gone from his tone, and a somber desperation was back. 

“Yes, my love. I did,” you kissed him as sweetly as you could, telling him the truth. 

“Fuck,” he grimaced, “I missed you.”

Suddenly, you were airborne, lifted into his arms and being carried into the adjacent kitchen. He sat you on the counter, shoving stacks of unread mail and keys onto the floor. You helped him strip off his wet clothes, pulling his hoodie and his jacket from his back, watching with admiration as he tugged off his undershirt, revealing his damp, furry chest, all of his dark hair laying matted against his skin. He was tanned and burned from the desert sun in odd tan lines, proof of his work, and your hands felt his sculpted form with joy, exploring all of him with abandon. 

You knocked off his boonie hat and watched him rake his hair back again, trying to keep it out of his face. It was straight in the front, but it began to curl when it reached his ears, wild and unkempt. 

Then, you heard the buckle jingle, and that familiar tool of his fell from the open folds of his pants. It was just as you had dreamt it, heavy and large, throbbing and flushed, excited to see you. He dipped the head of it into your lips, rubbing himself back and forth through your wetness, making you moan. 

“Oh, fuck… There you are. My girl. Needed you. Fuck, I needed you.” He wasn’t talking to you. Not really. He was sort of lamenting aloud, lost in his selfish thrusting, slicking himself in the softness of your body, bumping your clit on the way up and teasing your hole on the way down. 

Finally, he positioned himself at your center, carefully aligned with your tight opening, and he commanded you once more, 

“Spread your legs for me. Show me. I wanna see you… that’s it. So damn pretty.”

“John, please…” You begged, touching yourself, trying to show him how ready you were. 

He chuckled, pressing just the tip of his head into you, making you writhe,

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours…” You whispered, feeling particularly naughty about this call and response. 

“Whose!” He got in your face, close enough to kiss you but holding himself back, his voice louder and more forceful. 

“Yours! It’s yours. Please, fuck me, John,” you pleaded, gasping from being so near to your release and not being able to reach it. 

“Mine,” he thrust himself into you and watched you fall apart, feeling you pulse around him uncontrollably, “My fuckin’ pussy. All mine.”

He found a rhythm, but it was punishing. You had orgasm after orgasm pulled from you cruelly. There was no lovemaking. He was claiming you. You were familiar with his need after his tour, especially if it had been particularly difficult, but six months of not knowing if he’d ever see you again had made him rabid. Each thrust was like the touch of a glowing brand, marking you as his, reminding you of where you found your pleasure. 

You were not in control, not anymore. Any of your goading or teasing was immediately quashed by his dominance. You were just  a mixture of screaming bliss and sopping, milking noises, made by his effort between your legs. 

Frustrated that he couldn’t fuck you deeper, he pulled you from the countertop and down onto the cold tile floor. You were crawling onto the soft kitchen mat on your hands and knees, trying to catch your bearings when you felt him position himself behind you.

He grabbed your hair and pulled you into a high arch, shoving his fat cock back into you, sighing with relief as he did so, praising you in muttered, grunting words. 

He began to slam himself back into you, somehow feeling harder and thicker than before, filling you up to your limit. 

“Fuck!” You moaned, “Fuck…”

“Is that what you needed, love? Hm?” He leaned his body over yours like a hound, whispering into your neck.

“Yes, yes, yes yes…” You could barely breathe. 

“Needed your man, didn’t ya?”

“Yes, please…” Whatever words came to mind, you said them. You didn’t care. You could barely put a coherent thought together much less a full sentence. 

“I’m gonna fuck you like this until you can’t even remember his goddamn name.”

You smiled, cock-drunk and high from your repeated pleasure, peeking at him over your shoulder,

“Whose name?”

He laughed like a demon, fucking you faster, chasing his end,

“That’s my girl.”

When he lost his steady, pumping rhythm, he began to let out a barking shout, and you felt his come begin to drip from his body and into yours, heating you up in your core. He pushed his cock through it, frothing it inside of you, letting it drip down his shaft and coat his hair. 

He fell out of you, sitting back on his knees, pulling you into his lap with his last ounce of strength, and leaned against the kitchen cabinets, legs spread, holding you to his chest. John was breathing hard, his eyes shut. You reached up and touched his bottom lip, earning your fingertips a soft kiss. 

John opened his eyes and looked down at you, holding you close, begging you,

“Don’t leave me, baby. Please. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere, John. I’m right here,” you told him, petting his chest in comforting strokes, breathing hard with him.

“Stay,” he whispered, so low you almost couldn’t hear him, “Please, stay.”

You kissed his neck and whispered back, 

“I’ll stay. Forever. I promise.”

Your tired captain pulled you tighter into him, leaning a sweaty cheek against your forehead, smiling slightly, finally at some kind of peace.

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #call of duty #x female reader #john price x female reader #captain john price x female reader

[five-bi-five-mind]

obviously no rush or anything but i have a future jj x fem!reader fic in mind for you…..

basically reader having lunch with emily at jj’s and r’s apartment, and they both start talking about their sex lives.

r says how much fun jj was when they first met and moved in together, which leads emily to ask “what about now?”

r gets all flustered and explains that jj kind of got vanilla and a little boring. also saying she had to fake a couple orgasms….

jj comes home and overhears, so she takes r to the bedroom and RAILS her over and over again

just an idea:)

Stuck In a Rut

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Word count: 6.4k+

Genre: Smut

Summary: Since moving in with JJ, things have kind of slowed down. It’s not that you’re not still in love, you’re head over heels for her. It’s that one certain aspect has gotten a bit… dull. What you really want is for JJ to stop being so soft with you at least for once, but how do you tell her that?

Warnings: degradation kink; name calling; over stimulation; strap-on (r receiving); biting; top!JJ, bottom!r; praise kink; dumbification; let me know if I forgot things

A/N: so this is a little different than the request. I didn’t get all the details because I just kind of ran with it but uhhhh hope you enjoy 🫣 and yaaaay 1k celebration!

To say things had gotten a little stale… seemed harsh, but it was the truth. You and JJ had moved in together about six months ago after a year of dating and then there was just a change, a lull. It wasn’t that you two weren’t in love, you both very much were. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy to be her girlfriend or she wasn’t happy to be yours, she showed you off any chance she got and you did the same. It wasn’t that you two weren’t compatible to live together either. Things felt comfortable and safe, more so than they ever had before. Everything seemed perfect, but there was just one thing that got, well, a little boring. And that was your sex life. 

You honestly couldn’t understand what happened. When you two didn’t live together things were still pretty exciting and any time you were with JJ in that way, it took your breath away. The shift happened about two months into living together. The first month, you two still had that excitement. JJ had insisted on fucking you on pretty much any and every surface possible. She said it would make the place “feel like home” and you happily went along with it. But then the second month came and things slowed down and kept slowing and slowing and slowing… until suddenly all that heat and excitement of JJ having you in a way that you wouldn’t want anyone else to just got a little lackluster. 

The worst part was, it wasn’t like your sex life actually stopped per se, it was just that it got, quite frankly, dull. JJ suddenly shifted from being an exciting lover who would leave you breathless after every encounter, to a soft and slow one. Not to say you didn’t enjoy that sometimes. Just not all the time. 

What you wondered was what even caused this shift in her? Was it all the domesticity that you two found yourself surrounded in now that you lived together? Part of you thought that was it. JJ had definitely gotten softer herself as your relationship with her progressed and you loved that about her. She was so guarded at first, but she really dropped those walls down the more you two fell in love. You just wished that maybe that softness didn’t have to be present all the time. 

Just thinking about that made you feel terrible too. JJ was truly the perfect partner in all other aspects and you genuinely were so happy. But you were also just a little bit on edge. You never thought you were someone who would get a little snappy just from having a dull sex life, but here you were. You could tell the shift in yourself, even if you tried so hard to hide it. It was just that after a handful of nights with JJ ended more than a little disappointing on your part, there was only so much frustration you could deny in yourself. What’s worse and made you feel quite a bit guilty was that you had to fake things. There was no way in hell you were going to tell JJ that she wasn’t doing it for you. You could see the conversation now and the hurt look she’d get. It was the worry that telling her she wasn’t getting you there would be interpreted as she wasn’t enough for you that kept you silent about your whole little predicament. Lucky for you, JJ didn’t seem to see through any of it and continued on to be the obliviously happy girlfriend you knew her to.

Unfortunately for you, while your girlfriend didn’t notice, her best friend somehow did. 

Emily was no stranger to you, even if she was originally JJ’s friend. One of the best parts about dating JJ was that, not only did the two of you click with each other, but you also clicked with each other’s friends. So, as you got to know JJ and fall in love with her, you simultaneously fell in love with JJ’s friend group as well and quickly got comfortable with the people she surrounded herself with. One such friend that you felt particularly safe and comfortable with was Emily. So when she showed up at the apartment you and JJ shared when JJ was out running errands for the day, it was no problem for you to invite Emily in anyways and spend some quality time with her.

In fact, Emily expected you to be there. She came bearing lunch for the three of you, wanting to just chat if you and JJ were free. You told her JJ was out, but she still gladly stayed and chatted with you. And you were honestly grateful for the company, despite how wound up you were from your current predicament with your girlfriend. 

The two of you spent all of your time that afternoon just chatting about your lives. While you might be more on edge than you usually are, you weren’t about to turn done some quality time with good company. There was a large chunk of your days spent alone since JJ’s job was so demanding. While you appreciated that JJ was out doing errands alone, because you didn’t feel like you had the patience for Saturday afternoon crowds, you still were always excited for any kind of company you could get. So, to have Emily over and bringing her positivity into your space was a refreshing surprise. 

When lunch was finished and the rest was packed up for when JJ returned you mentioned that you had a bit of random chores around the house to do that you had intended to get done before JJ got home. To your surprise, Emily eagerly offered to help and that’s how you found yourself standing next to her and folding laundry in your bedroom. 

The conversation kept up just as it did when you two were enjoying lunch, but somehow the topic jumped dramatically and you weren’t entirely sure when the shift even happened. You didn’t think of yourself as a particularly open person when it came to the topic of your romantic life, especially when the person you were discussing it with was your partner’s best friend, but here you were.

Emily’s question about it really caught you off guard. It was innocent enough; a simple “so how are things with you two?” that you answered with what you thought was an enthusiastic response. Except, Emily followed your answer with a very telling “but…” and, suddenly you looked at her like you were caught red handed.

“It’s okay,” Emily smiled at you as she delicately folded a random towel. “Whatever you say stays between the two of us. I can just tell that you’ve been a little on edge lately.”

How could she tell? You thought you were hiding it so well! If she noticed, does that mean JJ noticed? But then, JJ was the type to actually say something if she could see that something felt wrong and she hadn’t said anything to you at all yet. So, hopefully Emily was the only one to see through your “everything is perfect” kind of act. 

“It’s not that we’re not good,” you began, refusing to make eye contact with Emily. “It’s just that… Well… I’m not unhappy.”

“Of course not,” Emily reassured.

“And JJ is a loving partner who treats me well.”

“As JJ should,” Emily nods along. 

“But… there’s just something about living together that’s changed us.”

Emily stilled her hands and turned to look at you thoughtfully. Her smile was still there, soft and reassuring, but she had this little glint in her eye that told you she could see almost exactly what you were getting at. It was as if she just already knew.

“Sometimes, when people move in together they can get a little comfortable,” Emily explained. “That comfortable feeling can go a little too far with some couples. Some might say that their partners tend to forget the romantic aspect to their new life together.”

“It- It’s not that,” you shook your head hard. It wasn’t that JJ wasn’t romantic with you anymore. She would often come home with flowers or still surprise you with beautiful dates in very thoughtfully picked locations. During those times you’d still feel the romance and the love. If you were being honest, in all aspects of your relationship with JJ minus your little bedroom problem, you both were very much still in a little love bubble. A lot of couples lose their honeymoon phase around this time in your relationship, but you could proudly say that that rushing, gushy feeling you got when you were near JJ was still very much alive and well. But again, it was alive and well in every aspect, but one. And that one aspect was really starting to drag you down. “We’re comfortable, but it makes me happy. She’s still just as romantic as when we first met.”

“Mhm, so if it’s not that… And you’ve been on edge….” Emily nodded to herself. You eyed her nervously, wondering if the look she was currently wearing was one you might see if you saw her on the job. “Oh, it’s the sex!” 

Your eyes practically fell out of your head as she blurted out her epiphany. 

“Emily!” 

“It is, isn’t it?” Emily leaned towards you with a satisfied smirk. “Oh, it’s okay, we can talk about these things.” She waved her hand dismissively as she spoke. “Sometimes, it happens. Things get a little old. Have you tried telling JJ what you want?”

“Well…”

“That’s a no,” Emily answered for you. “You know JJ is crazy about you, right? If you told her you wanted to try something new, she would listen.”

“I- I mean, maybe.” You rubbed sheepishly at your arm, the laundry forgotten as  soon as Emily started to toe into this territory with you. “Jennifer, she can be… What’s the right word… prideful? That’s not quite it, but still, she’d take it very personally.”

“Well, she has to know you’re not enjoying yourself.”

You didn’t say anything at that, giving her just a tight lipped smile. Emily eyed you for a moment, scrutinizing why you seemed to look so guilty all of a sudden until realization filled her features.

“You’re faking it!” Emily pointed at you, flinging a hand towel across the room in the process. 

“Emily!” You gasped, your face turning different shades of red.

“What?” Emily shrugged. “We’re friends! Friends talk about these things!”

“Yes, but JJ is your friend first!”

“Okay…?” Emily’s eyebrow was arched as she stared at you, as if you weren’t making any sort of sense. She couldn’t deny that she was JJ’s friend first. There’s some loyalty there; some stuff you didn’t discuss with your partner’s best friend when it was about your partner herself. “I’m your friend too. Whatever is shared between us, stays between us.”

Emily’s eyes were earnest, but still you were way too hesitant to just spill your guts completely. Except, she kept staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to confirm her accusation. 

“So,” Emily started up again when you took too long to respond. “If you’re faking it, then JJ has no idea you’re in this little rut, does she?”

You bit your lip and shook your head sheepishly in response. “It’s– Well, it’s only been a few times,” you offered as if that made it sound any better. “That I, you know, faked it, I mean.”

“I see…” Emily trailed off, thinking to herself. “So, if you’re going to go about this, you need to do it gently.”

“And what is it exactly that I’m doing?”

“Telling JJ what you want.” She said that as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Obviously, if you’ve been stuck in this dilemma long enough for Emily to notice, it wasn’t all that simple. 

“Emily,” you warned. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why?” Emily’s question was genuine, not accusatory, and it had you thinking about why exactly it was so hard for you. You did have a very real fear that you’d embarrass and hurt JJ’s pride if you brought up this little problem, but was that all that it was? 

“I’m not sure,” you sighed. “It just is.”

“Because you’re nervous?” Emily’s question finally connected the dots. It wasn’t just that you were worried about hurting JJ by revealing that you’d been bored with your sex life, it was that you were also too shy to ask for more. “You shouldn’t be. This problem won’t be fixed until you tell her what you want, you know.” 

“It’s- Emily, it’s kind of hard for me to just come out and say all of that to her!” Look at the horrible job you were doing right now just talking about it vaguely with Emily. Your face was so flushed you could imagine that you looked a bit like a tomato at this point. Emily didn’t seem phased by any of this, but your palms were sweating and your stomach was churning and you felt so shy and embarrassed. This wasn’t something you were used to talking about with anyone, let alone a friend of your partner’s. “What would I even say to her?”

“What you’re telling me,” Emily suggested. “Whatever it is that you want, I’m sure when you get it out in the open, JJ will at least consider it. She wants to make you happy and if you’re not happy, eventually she’ll figure it out and she won’t be happy either.”

“You’re right,” you nodded in agreement. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard to find the right words.”

“Well, without much detail, what do you want?”

“Just more…” you were struggling to find the right words. “Fire? Passion? I’m not really sure. It just feels like some of the passion is gone. She’s so gentle that it’s boring. I know it’s her way of showing me that she loves and cherishes me, but I want more. I want something new, something with that… that rushing feeling we used to get.” 

Emily nodded in understanding of everything you were saying. She gave you some more encouraging words on trying to bring it up with JJ, but soon the conversation went back to normal things and wondering what was taking JJ so long. Neither of you heard the front door open fifteen minutes earlier and the soft footsteps that lead to where you and Emily shared your heart-to-heart. 

It wasn’t until you heard some clanging in the kitchen that you realized JJ was home. Luckily for you, by the time you were aware that she was home your conversation with Emily had turned back to normal things. A small part of you was worried JJ was home much earlier than you realized and could possibly have heard everything, but you shook that fear off, knowing JJ would announce her presence as soon as she arrived like she usually did.

But, for whatever reason, this time JJ didn’t. This time, unbeknownst to you, she heard it all and neither you nor Emily realized it. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emily spent a few more hours with the two of you now that JJ was home too. Everything was pleasant and JJ seemed to be happy to see her friend on her day off, but there was something you couldn’t quite place. JJ was just slightly more quiet than usual. 

With you and JJ, the two of you were so in sync that you knew immediately whenever she was upset or in a bad mood. Tonight, that wasn’t what it was. It was as if she was captivated by her own thoughts. Not upset, not sad or angry, just pondering. But whatever thought she was so engrossed in, you didn’t know. 

Emily left before dinner and that quiet pondering continued throughout the evening. It was odd behavior for JJ, but honestly the silence between the two of you as you ate wasn’t all that negative. You were also busy mulling things over in your mind. The idea of approaching JJ with a few requests to try some new things was worrying you, but you knew it needed to be said. 

When dinner was over and you were cleaning up, you were even more lost in your own little world. The conversation you had with Emily from that afternoon was still going through your head. How were you going to talk to JJ about this without hurting her pride? Was that even possible at this point? If you were going to be totally honest about what you wanted then you’d have to tell her how long you’ve been faking things with her and that would surely not sit well with her. 

Part of you was also nervous to bring anything up and have it all blow up in the end. Would JJ even be willing to change things up with you or would it stay the same? If it stays the same, then what then? If the spark in the bedroom is going out, what does that mean for the spark in your relationship overall? There were just too many questions running through your mind.

The constant thought process of how to break the news to JJ and start the conversation was consuming all of your attention. Your hands and feet were on autopilot as you continued to clean up the kitchen. So, when JJ slowly snuck up to you with your back turned away from the kitchen entrance, you were totally unaware of her presence. That is until she was suddenly directly behind you, pushing the front of your body right up against the counter. 

“JJ, what the hell?!” Her sudden move had forced you to drop everything in your hands. Lucky for you, it was just some plastic tupperware and nothing sharp or breakable.

“Shhh,” JJ whispered in your ear. “Spread your legs.” JJ’s hands were on your waist as soon as she had you pinned. You were honestly so confused by this sudden turn of events that you didn’t register what JJ was asking of you. 

That must have been very apparent to JJ, because after a moment of you standing utterly still, she did it for you. Her legs went in between yours, kicking both your legs open until you were bracing even tighter onto the counter to keep yourself standing. JJ’s body pressed even harder into yours from behind and you suddenly realized you felt something very curious pressing into you from behind. 

“JJ, what are you-” You stopped when your mind finally connected what you were feeling as JJ started to grind her hips into your ass. You knew exactly what was going on now. 

JJ had you figured out. You weren’t sure how or when, but you knew that she knew. 

“Stop asking questions,” JJ bent forward to whisper in your ear. “And do what you’re told.”

“I-I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” you stammered as JJ kept pressing herself into the back of your body. “JJ, this is–”

“New?” She cut you off. “You wanted something new, didn’t you? That’s what I’m about to give you.”

Your body stiffened as JJ spoke. So, she did know. That little fear in the back of your head that told you JJ was home a lot earlier than you realized was right. The question was, how much did she hear? Did she know about you faking a few times or just that you wanted to change things up in the bedroom. God, you hoped she didn’t hear the part about you faking it…

“You didn’t answer me,” JJ’s voice came from behind you. “Am I wrong? You want a change, right?”

“I– Well, no you’re not wrong, but–” JJ’s lips pressing right at the pulse point of your neck before sinking her teeth down into the flesh there is what cut you off, even if you were already struggling to form a sentence. Your hands went to grip the counter at the burst of pleasurable pain that she just caused while you were mid-sentence.

“I’m going to give you something new, princess,” she practically purred against your skin. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want. You’re going to cum for me over and over again like a good girl, until I feel like you’ve had enough. And you definitely won’t need to fake them.” The low tone JJ’s voice took with her last words had you both shocked that she did in fact here and shiver at how almost threatening she sounded.

While you were preoccupied with this shift in her, JJ was already busy getting to work with her plan. You felt her hands reach around to your pants, giving them a hard yank before letting them fall in a puddle on the floor. You were already breathing harder than you probably should, your head twisting and turning to try and look back behind you at what JJ was up to. 

This new change in her had startled you and a large part of you was incredibly ashamed that she had heard you spill your guts to Emily. It should’ve been you directly telling her that you wanted something new, but unfortunately she heard everything she wasn’t meant to. Even so, there was another part of you that was absolutely way too excited for what was to come.

As for JJ, when she heard the little conversation between you and Emily, she did feel a little guilty that she was listening to something she wasn’t meant to. However, she wasn’t upset with any of what she heard, she was glad she did listen in even. Because, it wasn’t just you that felt like there needed to be a change. While JJ was definitely unaware of the past instances when you faked your orgasms, and that did sting a bit, she spent the rest of the evening plotting out a way to fix this. See, she had wanted to change things up for a while; let loose a little. She also was worried about ever being too rough with you, but sometimes she got into these moods where all she wanted to do was ruin you. When those moods came, she suppressed it and overcorrected. She knew now that she overcorrected way too much, but tonight it was time to lean into that mood. 

So, as JJ continued to put her plan into motion, she was getting a little ahead of herself with how much anticipation she had. When she heard the conversation, it was like a door had opened to so many new possibilities of what she could try with you. Once she settled on what to do first, she waited until you least expected for her to pounce.

Now here you were with JJ’s body keeping you trapped between her own and the kitchen counter, half naked from the waist down. “Stay there,” JJ ordered before taking a small step back. Surprisingly, you did as you were told without having to question it anymore. JJ admired you for a second; loving the way you looked bent over the counter, bare ass sticking out for her. She gave it a smack and you jumped, but didn’t complain. 

From behind you, you could hear JJ slowly pull the zipper to her jeans down. You knew exactly what was coming next and you bit your lip in anticipation. It was almost embarrassing how wet you were, just from a little bit of roughness from JJ. But then again, she was never rough with you like this. It was this exact behavior that you wanted so badly to see from her. 

JJ stepped back up to you, her hands reaching between the two of you to cup your ass. You let out the smallest gasp when she squeezed, already more excited than you’d been in weeks. From behind you, you could hear JJ let out a small, smug chuckle in response before sliding two of her fingers through your folds. This time, the gasp wasn’t as quiet. 

She ran her fingers through you a couple times, gathering your wetness onto them and causing you to shift and squirm even more. You wanted more of her touch, but as quickly as she started, she pulled her fingers away.

With her fingers coated in you, she reached down to her little surprise she had waiting for you. Little was a bit of an understatement, she thought as she ran your wetness over the dildo she had attached between her legs. It was going to be an interesting sight to see you take it. You two had used toys before, but not like this. Not something that, JJ knew for a fact, was bigger than anything you’ve taken. She was excited to see how good you could be for her. In the past she treated you so carefully, but tonight she was determined to fuck you to the brink of breaking. 

“Do me a favor,” JJ leaned her body against yours from behind. You felt what you already knew was a quite large strap on, poking between your thighs. “Be a good girl tonight and take what I give you.” 

You nodded your head fervently, biting your lip harder when one of JJ’s hands moved around your body to slip under your shirt and paw at your chest. JJ took a moment, kissing on the back of your neck and running one hand over the top of your body, while the other squeezed at your thighs. She loved the way you were already wriggling in anticipation for what she had in store and just wanted to savor this moment before she really dug in. 

Your chest was heaving already and your head was bent down as you made cute little sounds JJ loved to hear. Your hands were splayed on the counter, trying to keep yourself upright while JJ practically groped your entire body. The way you were already struggling to keep it together had JJ just that much more excited to see you utterly fall apart. So she got started.

One hand left your body while the other moved down to steady your hips. The hand that wasn’t on you, moved between her own legs. She wrapped her hand around the toy, running over it once more to make sure it still felt lubricated enough from your own wetness. Once she deemed it ready, she lined up. 

You held your breath, trying your best to brace yourself on the counter as you felt JJ’s faux cock start to line up with your entrance. This thing was big, you didn’t need to see it to know it wasn’t something you were used to. There was still an exciting anticipation coursing through your veins, but you also anxiously hoped that JJ would go a little easy on you. Just for a few minutes, at least. 

JJ’s hips started to push forward and you immediately felt the tip of the toy begin to stretch your walls. Your eyes squeezed tight as she slowly pushed her cock all the way inside of you until she had bottomed out. 

Your head dipped even lower, your mouth hanging open again as you tried to adjust to this new feeling. It was painful, you couldn’t deny that. Your pussy was stretched more than you’ve ever felt. But still, you needed JJ to move her hips, to do something. You tried your best to push your hips back into JJ to meet hers more closely, if that was even possible. She immediately got the hint.

Pulling out slowly and almost completely, JJ paused. “You’re not going to fake these,” JJ’s voice was practically a growl. “Got it?” And with that she slammed the toy back into you with such strength that the guttural moan you let out shocked the both of you. 

JJ’s hands were back on your hips now as she pulled out and mirrored that exact same action. You were trying as best as you could to keep some sort of restraint as she fucked you from behind, but it was a losing game when the pleasurable burn of her stretching you out had your head swimming. Meanwhile, JJ was setting a steady pace. Not too fast, but with each pump of her cock inside you, she put a little more strength into it.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” JJ groaned as she kept moving. You felt her nails dig into your bare hips as she went. It was like she was trying to restrain herself, to keep her own pace consistent, when you thought that, potentially, she wanted to go faster, maybe even be a little rougher.

And that was exactly it, but JJ needed you to ease into this at least a little bit first. She was testing the waters with you, seeing how much she could push it. While she wasn’t necessarily being gentle, she was still trying to have some sense of control. Only, that was slipping so fast with the sounds you were making and the way she could just hear how wet you were. 

It was sounds like these that she hadn’t heard in a while and didn’t realize she missed so much. So when her pace increased and you couldn’t help but to whine and cry out her name as she fucked you, her control slipped even further. 

She could tell you were close too. The way she had your pussy stretched out mixed with how rough she was being had you approaching that edge finally. This time, it would all be completely real and as your legs began to tremble, JJ increased her pace and encouraged you to cum.

When you finally did, she slowed for a second. The both of you needed to catch your breath; you from the powerful orgasm and her so that she could prepare for what was to come. The pathetic little moan you let out when you did cum had broken something loose in JJ’s brain, something that she had really tried to hold back with you, but now she wasn’t going to. So she’d let you catch your breath, take a moment to appreciate the way you looked right now, and then continue.

JJ’s hands rubbed at your back for a second. “That’s my girl,” she cooed, leaning back to get a better look at you. She was still inside you, but you were slumped a little further onto the counter, cum dripping down your thighs as you came down from your high. “We’re not done though.” 

And with that she set a new pace that had you scrambling for purchase on the counter again. The way she was fucking you, it was like she was trying to fuck up into you until you were completely sprawled out on the counter. Your body had gotten used to the stretch, but your pussy definitely wasn’t used to this kind of brutal treatment. Your legs were shaking harder than they were when she made you cum the first time and you were seriously questioning your balance at this point.

It didn’t seem to bother JJ though, if she was aware of it that is. All she was focused on was the satisfying slap of her skin against your ass as she fucked you so hard you swore you saw stars. 

“J- fuck— JJ I don’t think…” you couldn’t get the words out no matter how hard you were trying. The relentless way JJ kept pounding her cock into you was making it impossible for you to do just about anything other than moan. “I don’t think I can keep standing.” 

You felt JJ’s hands flex, as her grip on you grew tighter. She didn’t stop, despite your warning, she didn’t even slow down. Her hips kept pumping into you from behind, each time pushing you painfully harder into the counter. Your head was hunched down, your hands were struggling to grip at anything on the counter. Pretty soon you’d be slipping until you were face down on the countertop if JJ kept this up. 

“I don’t fucking care,” JJ growled. With those words, it was like she knew exactly what your worry was and she made it happen. Without warning, one hand that was on your waist moved to the top of your head, pushing your head down til your cheek was pressed against the cold countertop. This new position forced you to jut your ass out even more, giving JJ an even better angle to fuck her cock into you deeper. 

Her hand remained on the top of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Tears pricked in your eyes at the brutal way she was fucking your pussy. Your body was practically quaking underneath her and you could feel another orgasm coming in strong. 

As rough as she was being, you were enjoying every minute of it. JJ was practically manhandling you, using you as nothing more than her toy to fuck, but you didn’t even mind. It’s what you wanted all along and you didn’t even know it. 

JJ pulled your hair to jerk your head up. As she did, her hips still flush with your ass as she pushed her cock into you, she lent forward on top of you. “You love this, don’t you?” JJ taunted as your walls tightened around her cock. “Letting me fuck you right here on the counter like a little whore. You fucking love it.” 

You had never heard her talk this way and your eyes squeezed shut as your next orgasm started to rip throughout your body. 

“Say it.” JJ tugged on your hair. “Say you love it.” 

“I- I-“ you couldn’t form words when you were falling over the edge on JJ’s cock again. “I love… god- I fucking love it. Fuck, JJ just keep— keep fucking me.” 

JJ let out a triumphant chuckle before releasing your hair and wrapping her hand back around your waist. With her hold on you, she moved your own body onto her cock while she kept pumping it into you. The continued abuse of your pussy, mixed with the sheer strength of JJ’s movements had you coming a third time before you even knew it. You hadn’t even come down from your second orgasm before she had you moaning and screaming her name into a third one. 

What definitely shocked you was the way JJ kept going even after that. It was like there was no end to the strength and stamina she possessed. She didn’t slow, not even after she had pushed you to a third orgasm without a pause. No, she was determined for a fourth.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you were suddenly too aware of your nerve-endings and as she kept fucking you, the harsh way she was treating your pussy as she pumped her cock into you with abandon was starting to hurt. Yet, it all still felt incredible. The pain of your body being pushed to the brink mixed with the pleasure she was giving you was better than the last three orgasms she coaxed out of you combined. 

“God, why didn’t I do this sooner?” JJ grunted as she kept up her pace. “I was hoping you’d be able to take it if I let go a little, but this… You’re just taking me so fucking good.”

You couldn’t even speak at this point, all you could do was let out a gurgled hum of some sort of agreement as JJ’s grip tightened that much more on you so she could keep up with what she was doing. At this point, you were fairly certain that there were marks where her nails were digging into you, but that little bit of pain added to it that much more. Tears were definitely staining your cheeks from the sheer intensity of it all too. You were sure, if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you’d be shocked by what you saw. 

The fact that you could cum again so quickly and for the fourth time in such a short period was shocking you, but when you came again for her, you came with a silent cry as your body shuddered around her cock. 

This time, you couldn’t keep yourself upright, fully slumping onto the counter. JJ finally slowed down, her hands coming up to keep you upright and prevent you from landing on your ass.

After a moment of being still, but remaining inside you, she finally pulled out and your body shook for a second at the loss. You still hadn’t caught your breath, but JJ was patient, running her hand over your back and cooing at you as you gulped down much needed air. 

When your chest stopped heaving and your body trembled a little bit less, JJ turned you in her arms. Still, she had a tight hold on you to prevent you from slumping all the way down and onto the kitchen floor and you were appreciative of the support. 

“Hi,” JJ murmured as her arms squeezed you into her chest. 

“H-hi,” you panted, burying your head into the crook of her neck. 

“Was that too much?” JJ’s voice was soft and hesitant. You still weren’t quite recovered enough to form coherent sentences so you just shook your head as best you could while still pressed into JJ. 

“Good,” she mumbled before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Was that… more like what you wanted?”

You willed yourself to look up at her this time, knowing this required a proper response. “Yes, but JJ I’m sorry. I should’ve told you first.”

“It’s okay, my love,” JJ smiled down at you. “I understand. I’m sorry things got a little… monotonous. I’ve wanted to try something a little new with you for a while, I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You leaned up to kiss JJ’s lips softly this time. “But I’m not as fragile as you think. You won’t break me, so… can we do this again?”

“Oh, definitely,” JJ gave you a cheeky grin. “In about ten minutes actually.”

“What?!” Your eyes went comically wide as JJ started to practically push you towards the bedroom. 

“There’s more I want to try.” 

You gulped, but willingly let her lead you to the bedroom. That night you both learned the limits your body could go to and over the next few weeks you were introduced to more experiences you hadn’t even realized you were into until JJ presented them to you. It was like a whole new side to your relationship had opened up and it definitely fixed the rut. 

Taglist: @storiesofsvu @demonicbaby666 @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @finleyfray @natashamaximoff69 Join the taglist here

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #jj x reader #jj x you #criminal minds fic #wlw #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau imagine #five-bi-five-mind #1k celebration fic!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for banning a minor from a discord server?

I'm pretty sure I'm nta, since most of the server backed me up, but I am also autistic and would like some impartial judgement. I (23M) am the mod of a fairly small (~40 people) discord server. The server is focused around a character we all like, and frequently includes discussion, art, and fic related to this character, various ships, and 18+ content ranging from tame fluffy smut to much darker, dead-dove type content (largely because the original source material is pretty dark). For this reason this server is strictly 18+. We don't really have specific 18+ channels, and a few of the artists in the server are primarily NSFW artists.

I only became the (sole) mod about 3 months ago, when the previous mod/admin (who started the server) didn't have time anymore. For the most part things are very chill- I've never had to deal with any conflicts before this, the worst problems I've had are trying to keep the bots running and channels organized.

The youngest member of our server is (we thought) 18, the next youngest being 20. I recently found out through a series of screenshots that the youngest member is actually 17, turning 18 in about six months. I asked them about this in dms, since the screenshots were from their priv account on twitter (of them jokingly bragging about getting away with telling people they were 18 when they weren't). (and regardless of whether or not this was true, I wanted to let them know if someone on their priv was taking and spreading screenshots).

They got very upset at the screenshots being leaked (which is fair) but also confirmed that they were 17. I said that I was going to have to ban them from the server due to the NSFW content and they got very upset, saying I was infantilizing them etc. They also briefly tried to backtrack and say that they were just joking about being 17 and were actually 18, but stopped when i didnt believe them. I explained it wasn't about maturity-- imho if they are mature enough to handle the source material, they're mature enough to be in the server- but rather that there are potential legal repercussions for having a minor in a NSFW space. I even said that, while I was upset about them lying, I would even be open to letting them rejoin the server after they turned 18 (AFAIK they weren't lying about their bday, they just said they were a year older than they actually are to get into 18+ spaces).

They were really angry about this so I put it to the server for a vote and to let everyone know what was happening. Honestly I don't know what I would have done if the server voted to keep them in, but they voted almost unanimously to ban them at least until they were 18. I'm not on twitter anymore but I know that several of the people on there also blocked them from their accounts (since they posted 18+ art, fic, etc).

Other relevant info:

- this person didn't actually post any art or fic that was outright explicit, but they definitely participated in NSFW discussions (all fandom related, nothing related to personal lives).

- they were added to the server by the original admin--she apparently had no idea they were underage and also blocked them from her twt account.

The younger person is really upset at me and has sent me multiple angry paragraphs in dms about how I was ruining their fandom experience, discriminating against them just because they were a minor, and said that this wouldn't be an issue if we weren't all so porn-addicted. I half jokingly replied that I'm not sure how the last one could be an issue for me personally, given that I'm asexual, which they then said was problematic for implying ace people couldn't watch porn (???). I stopped replying since I didn't know how to respond and they have sent me some more messages in the same vein (I'm bullying them, all of their online friends hate them because of me, etc).

Kind of unrelated, but I don't actually know who on their priv took the original screenshots- they have ~80 followers on there, none of whom are in the server as far as I can tell. The person who sent me the pics is someone in the server, who said she got it from someone who is actually on the priv account (because she posts 18+ art and the person who took the SSs wanted to let her know that a minor was following her).

Why I may be TA: I do genuinely think this person is mature enough to handle the discussions we were having (except for the recent string of angry DMs, they've been very chill and level headed), I banned them because of legality, not morality. I also wouldn't have known about this if it wasn't for the daisy chain of screenshots that were unknowingly taken from their priv account, which idk seems like an invasion of privacy to me.

I did also tell the server all of this so they'd know why I was kicking this person, and then several people in the server posted about it on twt which apparently got the 17yo blocked from a bunch of accounts. I do feel bad and understand why they're upset- but I can't knowingly allow a minor to access 18+ content since that is legitimately illegal and could really fuck up my life.

Anyways, hopefully that all makes sense, sorry for the silly petty chronically online drama but still. To anticipate what most people will comment-- yes, I will go outside and touch grass-- but AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[r0ttenhearts]

cold tea

sypnosis: after scaramouche’s erasure from irminsul, something in him changes

angst, arguments

“here scara, just how you like it.” scara’s pale, slender fingers hold onto the mug tenderly, giving you a rare smile as he drinks the bitter liquid.

“you always do know how to make it perfectly, (y/n).”

you smile as you hug his shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his head. “well of course, my dear. i have to know these things.” “that’s what i love about you.”

it seemed like so long ago since you had moments like that with him. if you made him a cup of tea like that now you’d only be met with a bitter glare before he’d leave the table.

it all changed after he erased himself from irminsul. luckily, you still remembered him, but you almost wished you hadn’t.

sure, scaramouche before he erased himself wasn’t always pleasant. but he had a soft spot for you and only you, a gentle kindness that was hidden behind closed doors. now it seemed like his unwavering anger was the only thing in your shared home.

the nights he’d spend next to you were now long gone, you knew he’d taken up the traveler on her offer to travel teyvat together. a part of you felt happy for him, happy he had finally made a place for himself to belong, the other half felt bitter as you remembered he’d rather be around her than you.

that gnawing thought chewed through you the longer the time you spend apart. it couldn’t be true right? it was just your overthinking! of course he still loved you, you were with him through everything. from his time as a harbinger, to the time he became a wanderer.

but.. he’d never been gone this long. it had been a month since he departed with that blonde haired traveler. your shared home now felt like it was never shared.

that was until you saw him sitting at the table, sipping on a dark liquid as he cradled the cup in his hands. his eyes seemed lighter as he drank from the cup, his eyes flickering to yours.

“oh, you’re back.”

you nodded, smiling softly before sitting in front of him. your heart clenched, watching him hold his cup so tenderly. you had missed this view so much.

“we need to talk (y/n).”

you nod, taking his hand gently and squeezing it. “i think that’s been long overdue, don’t you agree? it’s been so long since—”

“we need to end whatever this is. i’m in love with the traveler, i won’t continue this and be unfaithful to her.”

your smile dropped, eyes widening at his words. he was in love with the traveler? this was over? no, it can’t be. it was only a month! a month was all it took for him to fall out of love?

“w-what..? hold on a second, scara. we have to talk about this. you can’t just decide to end it like this.”

scaramouche scoffed, ripping his hand out of your grip, his cup now forgotten on the table as he stood. that familiar smirk was on his face, that smirk he always held before he would do something unreasonably cruel.

“there’s nothing to talk about, (y/n). to be quite honest with you, i got bored of you. the way you do things, just everything about you disgusts me.”

he laughs loudly, moving his hands around the room. “i mean just look at this shit! do you think i want to fucking live like this? playing housewife to your delusions? you know, you’re so much worse than you used to be. that’s why i left. i never thought about you while i was gone, not once. not until lumine brought you up to me did i remember your putrid existence.”

tears filled your eyes, you silently wept by the end of his monologue. “then why did you stay for so long?” you quietly asked, your voice cracking.

“because i like taking my anger out on you.” he grinned.

he sighed dramatically at your tears, mimicking the way you struggled to breath at the realization that it was all over.

“go cry to someone else, i’m out of here. don’t bother showing your face outside of here. i’ll make you regret it.” with a slam of your front door, it was the end to a six year relationship.

the months after that we’re some of the worst months of your life. every time you made your way to the city you’d see scaramouche there, hanging with lumine or nahida. he’d always find ways to torment you. tripping you under stalls, blowing wind in your direction when it was storming and you attempted to find shelter, blowing your birthday cake out of collei’s hands so it’d smear all of your face, his cackle being the only thing you could hear as collei attempted to comfort you and wipe the cake off of your face.

your tears eventually won your forest friends over, so they agreed to let you stay in the village with collei giving you weekly groceries and news about what was going on. her sad smile when she’d tell you about the festivals and events that tighnari and cyno would made you feel guiltier about the whole ordeal. but you were terrified. someone like scaramouche wouldn’t back down for no reason. his cruelty knew no limits, and that now applied to you.

so why was he here now? his fingers around your wrist a mere 3 years later. you knew it was him by the way his fingers felt, a warmth you had long forgotten about since his time with lumine. “(y/n).. please. i know that’s you , nahida told me you were still here. i just want to talk, i don’t mean any harm to you.”

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze as you tried to get away from his grip. the fruits and basket you held now forgotten about on the floor next to you. “please.. leave me alone, scara. i don’t want to talk to you or even less see you.”

scaramouche takes you by the hand, dragging you along to an alleyway, his large hat covering his face as he looks down, your hands being gripped in his.

“let me talk first, okay? then you can decide if you still hate my guts or whatever it is you might feel for me.”

not like he gave you much of a choice in the matter, anyway. you slightly nod, seeing his shoulder slump, his grip on your hands lessening.

“it’s just— it’s been so difficult being alone. i was abandoned again, how ironic. traveler left me once she found her twin.. she had no use for me anymore so she discarded of me like the doll i am. in the time i spent after her betrayal i realized something.. i realized i only ever felt that same happiness with you. you never used or discarded me like she did.

you loved me the way i was, even when i was in the fatui, and after. your love for me never wavered. and i regret throwing that love away so very much. i miss the tea you used to make me, the way you’d take care of me after a long day of battles. i miss you (y/n). please, if you can find the forgiveness in your heart, id like to have a relationship with you again.”

scaramouche looks up at you from under his hat. his eyes were glossy, cheeks tinted with pink as he stared into your eyes longingly, with hope. he looked the same way he did when he had breakdowns over his mother back in inazuma, his loud cries and pleads for answers as to why he was abandoned. why he was so unlovable. now he held the same state for you, it seemed almost ironic by the way he looked at you.

you couldn’t hide your scoff, stepping away from him. “seriously, scara? that’s what you have to say to me after all of these years? like nothing happened you just want me to forgive you. like you didn’t spent a year tormenting me with what i lost with you. i don’t even feel sorry for you in all honesty. i don’t forgive you, scara. and i never will.”

you turned to leave before he stepped forward, grabbing your hand with tears in his eyes. “please..!” you glared at him, shaking him off of you as you left in that alleyway. the same way he left you alone at that table that night.

taglist: @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #wanderer angst #wanderer x reader #scaramouche angst #scara x y/n #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche x y/n

[skirter01]

DP x DC Pilot/Engineer Danny AU

I saw this idea somewhere, but I cannot for the life of me find out who came up with it, so apologies, but if someone knows, do what you need to. But basically, it was Danny working in the aerospace department for Wayne enterprises, getting close with the Waynes etc. I dunno. But I thought about it today and *throws this at you*. It’s got my own spin to it, but yeah. 

---

Tim hadn’t slept in days, Bruce could tell and the sight was unnerving. So instead of scolding his second youngest, as he normally would, he decided on a... less hypocritical approach. It was probably the safest option, because Tim looked just about ready to throw himself at a wall, or the next available person.

“What are–"

Tim startled, and shot from his desk chair in a flurry of paper and limbs. Bruce heard the shink of metal as Tim drew the batarang from some hidden place on his person, and his sons careless, sleep deprived throw was the only reason Bruce still had his right eye.

The clipped thunk of the weapon sinking into the wall behind him had Bruce arching a brow at his son. Tim was a damn good shot, not the best in the family (Jason held that title, unfortunately), but he was skilled enough not to miss a target as big as himself. That spoke volumes of how exhausted his son had to be.

“B?” Tim questioned, stumbling backwards to lean against the desk as he rubbed at his blood shot eyes. “Don’t do that Jesus.” He groaned. “I was in the middle of something.”

“My apologies”, Bruce frowned at his son. “Clearly it had all your attention.”

“It did.” Tim grumbled snippily, reaching down to pick up some of the papers he’d disturbed. “What was it you wanted again?”

“Just checking in. Alfred was concerned. You missed dinner last night, and I didn’t see you for breakfast this morning.” Bruce hastily took note of the multitude of empty coffee cups that littered the room, stained brown by the liquid residue.

“I ate.” Tim stated, then, as if on que, his stomach let out a loud keening groan. His son flushed, and wrapped his arms defensively around the offending body part. “Er...okay maybe I missed one meal.” It rumbled again, this time even more convincingly. Tim snarled at it, clearly angered by the betrayal. “Maybe two then.”

“I can see that.” Bruce chuckled, “What are you working on? Need a fresh set of eyes?”

“No.”

Bruce glanced first at the pile of papers on the desk, and then the multitude of tabs open on Tim’s browser.

His son made a face like he’d just eaten a lemon. “You’ve got better things to do.”

Bruce smiled inwardly. Like most of the manors inhabitants, (himself included), Tim hated asking for help. It was a trait that Bruce shared with all his children, as unfortunate as it was, but Tim was by far the worst. Especially, when it came down to a case.

The boy was independent incarnate. Hell, he’d singlehandedly discovered Bruce’s alter ego with nothing but a camera and a brain. It made even more sense when you considered just who he had as elder siblings. A detective and a crime lord. As much as Bruce hated it, he knew that Tim tried his absolute hardest to match up with Dick and Jason.

But Bruce liked the way Tim worked, his brain was interesting.

“I assure you, I don’t.” He replied, moving over the desk to take a peek at what exactly his elusive son was working on.

Daniel Fenton: Employee Profile, NASA

Monthly Progress Report: Daniel Fenton

FENTON, Daniel: Casper High, Report Card

Birth Certificate: Daniel James Fenton

“What, exactly are you doing?” Bruce frowned, “Tim, I thought I warned you about accessing peoples private information without a plausible reason.”

Tim sighed and drooped into his chair, “I know how this looks, but I promise I do actually have a good reason.” 

“Mhmm. Get explaining.” 

His son leant over the table to pick up a headshot of one Daniel Fenton. “This is Wayne Enterprises newest employee, Daniel Fenton, or Danny as he introduced himself.” 

Tim cleared his throat, “About six months ago, I sent out a letter to NASA on your behalf – after we lost Jeremiah, the head engineer from the aerospace division – enquiring if they had any employee’s they would be able to loan out to us until I could organise a replacement. This is the guy they sent. I’ve got a problem with him.” 

Bruce grabbed at the page, stealing it from his sons grip (It was quickly replaced by a cold cup of coffee from the dresser). 

The man pictured was young, probably around Jason’s age (early twenties at the most) with shaggy raven hair, styled into a neat undercut, and bright blue eyes. A sly, lopsided grin was spread out across his face – a typical troublemaker smile if he’d ever seen one – that reminded him eerily of Dick, and a black NASA lanyard was drooped around his neck, hiding under the collar of his navy dress shirt.

He looked up at Tim, and then back down at the photo and then back at Tim. “Is your problem that you’ve got a crush on the guy?” 

Tim choked on his coffee, spluttering on the dark liquid and whacking his chest to relieve the pain. The coughing fit didn’t last long, but Tim’s face had gone completely red (with embarrassment or pain was debatable) and he was heaving in heavy gulps of air. 

“What?” He wheezed in disbelief, face scrunched up. “You did not just say that.” 

Bruce crossed his arms, offended. “It was an honest question. He’s a well-presented young man, and you are...single, are you not?”

Tim just stared at him, uncharacteristically lost for words for once before he slapped a hand aggressively into his forehead. “No! God no, B, that’s not how bisexuality works.” He rushed, slowly getting his breath back, “Actually, well it sorts of is- wait, no, my point is that I do not have a crush on him. Fuck, ok. Yikes.”

“My apologies then.” Bruce admonished, trying and failing to hide the smile at his sons flustered words. “I didn’t mean to assume.”

Tim glowered at him. “Stop that. I’m interested in someone else, you know this.”

“Just get on with it.” Bruce smirked, gesturing to the cluttered desk. “What’s your problem with him?”

Tim huffed, “I don’t actually know, there’s so many problems, I really can’t narrow it down but he’s suspicious, I dunno...” He mumbled, picking up the progress reports Bruce had spotted earlier and running an eye over them, “He’s a model employee and I mean that seriously. The guys a genius as an engineer, knows his stuff better than most, and the guys working in the department practically worship him as a supervisor. I can see why NASA only loaned him, because seriously, there were conditions they gave. He’s a serious asset.”

“I still don’t see your point Tim.”

“I’m getting there!” His son hissed, pinching his nose as if to quell an oncoming headache. “Sorry, coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.” He apologised, “Anyway, point is, he’s too good. At, like, everything. He’s an engineer, and a pilot, and he’s been involved in practically every community project we’ve done and-and... ugh. I can’t figure it out, but there’s something about him. The way he does things, the way he acts, it’s all just...wrong.”

He gestured aggressively to the desk where he’d been working, “I’ve been trying to dig up some stuff on him, anything really, to try and figure out what it is, but so far I’ve found nothing. The dudes a total ghost! There’s nothing on him. It’s frustrating as all hell.” Tim slumped down into the chair, arms crossed and glaring at the papers. Defeated.

Bruce took a moment to process the information. Originally, he’d laughed it off, thinking Tim was generally attracted to the guy – that he could understand. But seeing how worked up his son was about it... there had to truly be something wrong.

Sure, Tim was a known workaholic, it was just how he operated, but he didn’t just obsess over random people and cases without reason.

“What do you mean by wrong?” He inquired, leaning up against the desk.

Tim waved his hands in frustration, “I don’t know! Everything! His presence, the way he does things, his stellar record. It just– I’ve had this feeling, ever since I first met him in the office that day. It’s not a good feeling but I can’t figure out what it is. I feel like there’s something I’m missing, something I’ve overlooked. It’s just strange, there’s something off about him.”

Bruce took a good look at Tim’s face then, noting the worry lines starting to crease into his forehead and the bruises beneath his eyes. This was obviously something he needed help with, and although he may not have asked for it explicitly...well, Tim’s problem with this Daniel Fenton, also just become Bruce’s problem, or alternatively Batman’s, if it came to that.

The teenager planted his face into his hands, and Bruce put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I get it.” He started, “I know the feeling, I’ve had it – still get it actually. Some people rub you the wrong way. You aren’t wrong to trust your instincts, it’s the first thing I taught you, right?”

Tim nodded into his hands, rubbing them down his face and pulling the skin unattractively downwards, showcasing the extent of his eye-bags as they contrasted against his pale skin. He really needed Tim to go outdoors for a little.

“You’re working tomorrow, right? In the office?” He questioned his sleep deprived son.

“Yeah. What about it?”

Bruce squeezed his shoulder. “Well, I was thinking I’d drop by. I heard the aerospace division was due for an inspection.”

Tim side eyed him from where he was cradling his head in his hands. “It was inspected last month.” He stated dully.

Bruce rolled his eyes at his sons bad humour, “Then I suppose it’s about time for another.”

Tim groaned and shrugged his hand off, “They’re going to hate me. So, so much.”

“Maybe.” Bruce chuckled, making his way to the door, “But that comes with the territory. See you at 10:00am.”

“Yeah. Whatever”

“Oh, and Tim,” He stopped himself just before he left the room. “Get some sleep, please. Alfred’s lost enough hair already.” He swung the door closed, although, not without hearing Tim’s last comment.

“Yeah! Raising you!”

What lovely, considerate children he had.

#dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc crossover #dc x dc #tim drake #bruce wayne #batman #Danny Phantom #danny fenton is a little shit #tim is tired and confused #bruce just wants to connect #let tim sleep

[ataraxiaspainting]

Cupid.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: No matter how much soap is used up, even when the bars are all dissolved in the bathwater and the bottles are empty, you know that from now on all you will be is dirty. You will never be clean again. Never.

Warnings: Yandere themes, heavily implied non-con, past violence, manipulation, and kidnapping.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Memoir #02 [06.12.09] by Maria Pseftoga (feat. May Roosevelt)

I Can’t Handle Change by Roar

A Burning Hill by Mitski

No Surprises by Radiohead

A Pearl by Mitski

Liquid Smooth by Mitski

Six Forty Seven by Instupendo

I Love You Like An Alcoholic by The Taxpayers

Bumblebees Are Out by Jack Stauber’s Micropop

Bathtub by The Front Bottoms

"Now the time has come. I put two bullets in my gun. One for me, and one for you. Oh darling, it will be so beautiful." – Misery (1990)

*~*~*~*

The steam rising feels so thick it nearly suffocates you. That does not stop you from burying yourself further into the water, up to your nose and nearly filling up your ears. No, if anything, the steam makes you want to drown in it so much more. You contemplate putting your entire head under, screaming into the water until no bubbles rise to the surface.

But the demon wearing pale human skin would stop you before your escape attempt is successful. That is what he always does, after all.

Your white wool towel and his gray one is placed on the same rack, on your side. On one of the hooks behind the door are your pajamas, the color of strawberry taffy, and small buttercups on both the top and lower parts of the set. There are twenty-two on the shirt and nineteen on the pants. You know this because you have counted them many, many times before, the first-time being weeks if not months ago, when you thought the worst thing Chrollo could do to you is slap you or ignore you if you ever hit him. If you ever succeeded in that department, with his lightning-fast reflexes. You can only remember being that fortunate enough maybe… a maximum of four times, you think, before you stopped, after your initial fears of him killing you were brushed off, and after your survival instincts adapted to fit this particular situation. 

Rebelling by fighting him is not going to help. You know that it is something ingrained in every human, getting physical in the face of a threat, whether it be a real one or not. However, upon your initial confinement in this place, your primal instinct also urged you to escape. You constantly remind yourself that this is impossible due to the numerous locks on the door and Chrollo's ability to summon a seemingly omnipotent book out of thin air. You are unable to flee, thus your survival instinct must adjust to an alternative strategy. Nevertheless, it fails to do so, prompting you to ultimately confront different adversaries altogether; Chrollo's caresses, presents, and offerings of quality time.

But now seeing where that got you now, you regret not attempting to jump out of his car and run for the hills, not caring if he was behind you or not.

“...” You are silent as you push back further and further until the crown of your head feels the porcelain wall. “...”

Chrollo, in turn at your silence, simply puts some water into his cupped hand, letting his thumb play around in it for a little while before releasing it back from whence it came. “Now, what did we learn today? You don’t plan to be silent the rest of the night, do you dearest?”

You're uncertain about your plans, but one thing you do know is that drowning him in the bathtub is not one of them. Despite your desire to do so, you acknowledge that you wouldn't come out victorious. Presently, you feel apprehensive about what lies ahead. If this isn't the absolute depths to which Chrollo would sink, then what could be?

“...” Your mind wanders at a languid pace, not in a slithering manner, but rather with a slow crawl. It looms menacingly, poised to devour you entirely, leaving you voiceless. To prevent its dreadful consumption, you divert your attention to the objects surrounding you, to anything but the one who holds you captive.

“...If you don’t want to chat now, that is fine,” This time, Chrollo scoops water into his palms and gently pours it over his hair. “You can always do so when we get out.”

The water is still clear, so clear that you can still see the bottom of the bathtub. The salts he put were lavender scented, you think, because something floral is in the steam and the small bits of water that make their way into your nostrils and mouth. There is lemon balm, peppermint, and rose petals floating about too, but one or two of them have clung to your body like seaweed you would accidentally walk near when you went into the ocean’s tides, causing you to squirm to get them off. Chrollo most likely finds this amusing, because he does not think much else of you, does he?

“...” There are seventy-three tiles in all on the bathroom floor that are in plain view, not counting the ones underneath the rugs, the bathtub, cleaning supplies, shelving, and the toilet. “...”

You could recount them again instead of putting water over your head too. “Do you want to do anything related to aftercare aside from this?”

“...” Rather than uttering a word, you choose to count the uncovered tiles on the bathroom floor. “...”

The occurrence can be summed up by a single word: dissociation. To shield you, your mind disentangled the emotional pains from the physical ones, rendering you void of sensation, numb. This was done to prevent you from comprehending the true nature of what transpired, what just happened, when his patience snapped and he tied you to the bed by the wrists, ripping and ripping until–

“...”

You and the devil are side by side. 

“There is no need to repeat what happened today, correct? Then everything will go back to normal. Just hope for your well-being that you remember this.” 

“...I will. I will.” The sound of your voice brings a smile to his face, and he cups a handful of water in his palms.

The liquid flows down from your hair, mimicking a gentle rainfall, only to rebound and retreat to its origin. This rhythmic cycle persists, until unexpectedly, your body surrenders to a state of tranquility, defying the will of your mind. Your head tilts backward, and for a fleeting moment, you feel weightless, as if hovering above the water's surface.

Your mind will now be cleansed of the undesirable side of Chrollo, hopefully ensuring that you never have to witness it again.

#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh #phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer

[chaoticbardlady99]

Astarion x Tav, but get this… A Druid with a wyvern drake hybrid (think the dragons from GOT and HOTD). Saddle and EVERYTHING and it’s not small, no it’s like 80 feet long with a 98 foot wingspan, black scales, and very very jealous when Astarion and Tav have alone time

If You Give a Dragon a Steak- It Will Bully You Into Flying (Astarion x GN! Reader)

I AM SOOOO SORRY! I must have seen this and just forgot about actually posting it!

CW: Brief mentions of smut, brief mentions of trauma

Not my pic, but this is what I was thinking of, but all black. Her name is Cala- Cala means light in Elvish. Cala refers to Astarion as isk which is Star in draconic.

What’s actually really cool about this is that there is something called a Dragon Knight in DND and you can link your soul with an actual Dragon (so cool, right!?)

This is lightly edited 🫡💜 please leave a comment or a like if you enjoyed my story! I would love to hear what you all think!

Astarion is used to sharing your affection with the likes of Scratch or that little Owlbear cub. Yes it was annoying from time to time and the two still live in your house, but the creature he wasn’t expecting? The giant fucking Dragon that would live in his backyard post Tadpole.

He was outside one night, just minding his own business, and a couple wing beats later- you were crying tears of joy while scratching a dragon like it was a dog.

Of all the people he had to fall in love with, it had to be a Druid Dragon Knight. Astarion knows there are worst things, but my Gods how many more animals do you need!?

Your dragon, Cala, is jet black, at least 80 feet tall with a wing span the size of Baldur’s Gate itself. She is a very friendly dragon, but also incredibly possessive. Astarion hasn’t been able to have a moment alone with you since the Netherbrain was defeated three months ago. However, he is grateful for the Dragon’s existence- she’s saved him and you multiple times when a search for a way to either cure his vampirism or his ‘allergy’ to the sun goes awry. Cala is also very nice to him and if you are gone- the dragon will shrink itself down to a comically cute lap size and sleep next to Astarion on the couch until you return.

Astarion is certain he can convince her to leave you alone at least for an afternoon.

So here he is- five or six incredibly expensive steaks in a box and walking towards a Dragon like it’s the most normal thing in all of Toril. Cala eyes him, not suspiciously, but curiously.

“Hello Night Child,” her melodious voice floats through his brain, “how can I help my person’s beloved this evening?”

Astarion grins at the last part before putting the box of Steaks on the ground.

“My beautiful scaly friend, I have brought you some steaks,” he kicks the box, “and you can have them, but they come with one condition.”

Cala’s eye becomes eye level to him and she looks amused.

“A condition? You do realize I could eat these steaks and you in one swift motion?”

“Yes,” Astarion says, “but I think we both know how upset Tav would be if you ate me.”

There is a huff of agreement and a soft look in her eye. Astarion knows he has nothing to worry about.

“What are your conditions, isk?”

“I am so very glad you asked,” Astarion says, trying to keep his nerve from dying out, “I want one evening alone with Tav.”

“No.”

Dammit.

“No!?” He says incredulously, “what do you mean no!?”

“I mean that you spent time alone with Tav for the last six months while I had to be without my home- my person. You can wait at least another six months.”

Astarion just gapes at the giant beast. If he wasn’t sure she’d kill him in three seconds flat- he might just try to slay the damn thing.

“This is! Are you!? I was enslaved for 200 years!” Astarion says sputtering, “I’ve waited 200 years for Tav to come into my life! You’ve been with her since the moment you were born!”

Cala seems to consider this- her eyes thoughtful and her posture relaxed still.

“Tav wants to take you flying.”

Astarion feels like he’s going to be sick. Tav had brought it up to him when Cala first arrived. When he tried to say, “sure,” he began to dry heave. You haven’t asked him since.

It’s not that riding a dragon doesn’t appeal to him- he would love to be able to watch you in your element. Astarion just doesn’t love the idea of accidentally plummeting out of the air because you do one of your fancy tricks and he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Astarion squints at the dragon, “and?”

“Go on one flight with us and then I will leave you alone for multiple evenings as asked.”

That seems entirely too good to be true.

“Okay,” Astarion says slowly, “I agree to your terms.”

Cala’s eyes light up with Glee before looking at the box of steaks between her and Astarion.

“Do I get to keep the steaks?” Cala asks, her tail swooshing back in forth in the grass out of excitement.

Astarion scoffs, “what do you think?”

Her massive tail stills and there is a sad look on her contradictory (cute and scary) dragon face.

“Oh don’t give me that the sweet disappointed, ‘I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout.”

And yet, Cala persists. Throwing his hands up in defeat- Astarion marches away and listens as Cala devours the box of steaks.

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

You are practically skipping as you hold Astarion’s hand. You had been over the moon when Astarion asked if he could go on a ride with you and Cala. You immediately dragged him away when you got home- something about wanting to do it before the moon gets too low. He didn’t consider having to be worried about the sun melting him to ash if you don’t get back in time.

“If you become comfortable, we could even fly over the Ice Spires and the Spine of the World!” You say.

He offers you a tight lipped smile and you squeeze his hand in reassurance. You asked him multiple times if he was sure and he told you he is nervous, but wants to see what all this “flying nonsense” is all about. Astarion won’t tell you that he has essentially been cornered into this by a massive fucking dragon- only because he doesn’t want to become a snack (again, now that he thinks about it. Cazador did drink all his blood once).

Astarion’s stomach is churning, but your excitement has loosened the knot of nerves that are threatening to suffocate his being. He hasn’t felt this kind of fear and anxiety since Cazador.

Tav and Cala won’t allow anything bad to happen.

That’s what he keeps telling himself when he gets on the saddle behind you and all of a sudden- Astarion is in the air on a fucking dragon.

“DOESN’T BALDUR’S GATE LOOK SO SMALL!?”

Astarion wouldn’t know- his eyes are clenched shut and he has his face buried in the crook of your neck. The sound of your enthusiastic, beating heart helps him focus on calming down. Astarion thinks of laying with you in bed, reading a funny novel together, and any other shenanigans you get into together before he finally opens his eyes.

If Astarion needed air- he would have died immediately from losing all of it.

If someone had told him even 50 years ago that he would be riding a dragon, free of his master, and with the love of his entire life giggling with glee in his arms- he would have told them to piss off.

Astarion has never seen anything like it in his 239 years of life. He doesn’t think he ever wants to land. Why had he been so afraid before!? This is amazing!

“It is very small, Darling!” Astarion muses, “is that?”

“The Fields of the Dead?” You shout excitedly, “it sure is!”

Astarion initially thought it would be a quick five minute ordeal, but soon you were both flying over all of Elturgard. You soared over the Reaching Woods and the Sunset Mountains. Your last tourist attraction for him was the Lake of Dragons- Astarion swears he has never seen a more bluer blue- before heading back home. Much to Astarion’s disappointment.

You help him navigate his way off of Cala and the Dragon nudges him with her nose as a sign of trust. Astarion scratches her nose before following you back into your shared home.

“What did you think!?”

You whirl around and look at him with wide, nervous eyes. You are playing with your thumbs incessantly like you usually do when you worry you may have disappointed him. It’s such a silly notion- you could never disappoint him.

Astarion pauses your twiddling by taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I would like to fly over the Northlander Isles at some point,” he says, “if you would be willing to have me join you on a flight again.”

You beam at him before getting up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips.

“Astarion- you are always welcome where I am. I couldn’t think of a better person to see the world and this life with even if I tried.”

He couldn’t help but cry at your statement. Astarion is so grateful to be able to call you his home.

At least Astarion was finally able to worship you properly since Cala kept her promise.

You are riding him as Astarion pushes his hips up to meet your downward thrusts with eager enthusiasm. When both of your climaxes hit- you put your face in the crook of his neck and giggle.

“What’s so funny, Darling?”

You look up at him- hair beautifully messy and eyes looking blissful. Another giggle escapes your lips as you begin to say what you are thinking.

“Save a dragon, ride a Vampire.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #karlach #astarion acunin #astarion x f!tav #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x gn! reader

[romanoffsbish]

Silent Night

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha gives you the worst news possible, you are stuck with her on Christmas Eve when you had made plans with another… (Blurb / WC: 1k)

Warnings: Hurt / Comfort | Grief / Loss | Hopeful Ending

Natasha stood there frozen, her body near perfect in stature to the naked eye, but to any other spy they'd notice the slump in her stance. She was crestfallen in sync with you as you stumbled back and shook your head from side to side, negating her command.

——

"No!" Natasha leapt forward then, her arm quick to wrap around your waist, hand firmly gripping you by the hip as her other covered your trembling lips. The look of genuine grief and budding betrayal in your eyes was like a sword through the assassin's heart but she remained steadfast as she grunted, "stay quiet agent."

For a moment you were stunned into silence, it wasn't like the redhead treated you differently, but you had hoped she would. That she'd let the heartless facade go and help you to escape this nightmare. You needed to get home, which right now was a sterile white room in a rundown hospital because the salary of a shield agent still wasn't enough to save the woman you needed.

A girl never stops needing the love of her mother.

Natasha understood you, she knew the pain behind your eyes well, you were losing something important.

She knew what you were saying; you couldn't stay in this run down cabin with her until the coast was clear. Fury's orders were of no significance to you when you had a very important person waiting on you back home, which was currently thousands of miles away. Tony needed to send a rescue jet now, it didn't matter if lives were lost, you wouldn't really mind if it were your own and that terrified the stoic woman.

The words never left your lips but she could see it in your eyes that you wanted out. Of the cabin, yes, but also of this life you were mindlessly walking through.

Natasha knew something had changed for you about six months ago, you'd stopped smiling at her then. It was such a simple gesture on your end, persistent too as she never returned it, always just walked right by.

Natasha was trying to keep her distance from you as she worried your spark would be dulled by her pain.

There was so much she'd yet to process and she was not willing to take you down her path of darkness. The loss of your smile was actually what forced her into the darkness and ultimately what got her through it. She would picture it in her worst moments and find peace.

A solace she so desperately wanted to be for you, deep down she knew you'd need someone to hold you and she refused to let anyone else take this spot, it was hers. The protectiveness didn't fade but her resolve softened as she felt your tears beneath her fingers.

"Natasha, I have to go," you cried as her hand slipped and you attempted to shove her away. "I know..." Yet her hold didn't falter, it only tightened, "but you can't."

"Please," you cried, fists pummeled into her chest but she didn't falter. Her lips were gently raised and your eyes froze on the gesture you had always wanted from her. You were wrong for hitting her but she merely offered you reassurance; the permission to continue.

It broke you from your rage and set free the truth as you fell into her hold instead and the redhead was quick to lower your bodies. You wailed just the same as you did when your mother gave birth to you, giving you the life she'd lose tonight; on the eve of Christmas.

Twas her favorite holiday, it carried a nostalgia from her childhood that she sprinkled into yours. The best parts of course, she was that for you, if you could you'd sacrifice decades of yours for just another with her.

Life and death are intimately bonded, woven together as opposites because it can't be forgotten that what has a start must also come to an end; a cruel twisted fate.

The hopeful would call it a miracle, but you were more akin to a realist. It was easy to see that both sides offered truth, the reality lied beneath the romanticism.

There was good and bad in everyone's story, you felt it in the air as your mother's words presented falsely. The ding of your phone was unnecessary, just like the '🕊️' your sister had texted you. You felt the tether snap.

Your mother told you she wouldn't leave until she knew you were alright, which was not exactly rooted in the present moment but rather the foreshadowed fate.

The ghost pressure of a pair of lips was pressed against your forehead, and you whined in your sob induced sleep, Natasha lent down and kissed your skin in hopes that it would soothe your broken heart, even just a bit.

A smile adorned her face when you nuzzled further into her embrace, she pulled a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your bodies. It didn't bother her that her night would be spent on the floor, with her back up against the edge of the couch, it wasn't ideal for sleeping but she didn't plan on doing that anyways.

The only plans she had were to sip on her tea and watch the rise and fall of your chest, "I've got you..."

Natasha didn't believe in much, the woman has stood up against aliens but she still dismissed the fables of  ghosts, werewolves and vampires (she was team Alice).

The redhead was trained to believe what she sees, and it wasn't until tonight that she could cross out another.

A gust of wind blew over the both of you shortly after the woman had confirmed her desires to be with you. Three simple words that carried a deeper message. A smirk overtook the redheads face as she felt a warmth she'd never felt before, there was no other explanation.

"It's nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N; she's safe here."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff hurt comfort #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #soft ​natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #gxg

[very-feral-lesbian]

the day steve finds a grey hair, he categorizes as the worst day of his life. fuck demobats or an alternate dimension. this was the end.

loosing his hair was simply not an option for him. it was all he had left of the king steve. it was a huge part of his identity, what people still associated with him.

he was only 25, he thought he had another ten years before he even had to think about greying. his dad had went grey early but steve figured that he just got lucky in the hair department and those genetics skipped a generation. but just his fucking luck that they didn’t.

but really what steve was worried about was eddie. no he didnt think his boyfriend was one who only cares about his looks but greying so early was like objectively a turn-off and its not that he doesn't trust him and eddies relationship, but eddie was just so hot and didnt look a day older than when they started dating five years ago.

so when eddie walked into the bathroom that morning, hair a mess and steve’s old swimming shirt on, steve just kissed him on the cheek and muttered something about needing to get to work early.

eddie was confused and concerned, usually their morning were slow. they liked waking up together, drinking coffee side by side, enjoying each other's company before one or both of them had to work. but he just put it to the back of his mind, filing under 'later.'

when steve got home that afternoon, he just stood in the bathroom examining his hair in the mirror. unfortunately, he didnt hear eddie sneak in behind him.

"what are you doing?" eddie asked, coming up behind steve looking at his through the mirror. steve had sighed looking back at eddie, hand covering the grey hair. "i'll tell you but you promise not to laugh?"

"promise"

steve had turned around and uncovered his hair, exposing it to eddie. "stevie, what am i supposed to be looking at?" steve huffed, "don't fuck with me babe, please." he pointed to the grey hair.

eddie looked close, finally seeing the one grey hair. "oh babe, i literally didnt even see it." eddie carded his right hand through steves hair, thumb brushing his cheek and other hand coming to grab his face. "if you think grey hair is gonna change how hot you are to me, then you have another thing coming."

eddie kissed him before walking off, "im into silver foxes anyway."

and when steve had a giant streak of grey hair grow into his head over the next six months, eddie made it known that he thought steve was just as hot if not hotter than before.

#this got long and was very different than when I started it #not even sure im happy with it but #i want to post something!!! #steddie #steddie drabble #queued #stranger things #st #st4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #fic #lindz writes #steddie headcanons

[inkblot22]

What's Worse?

I finally finished this. This unpostable thing. It's done and even if it's bad, I do not care. In the end, it ended up being 4k words and I'm okay with this. Header by @/cafekitsune

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep this one very neutral despite the many references to body parts, so anyone who can handle it is free to read! Keep in mind that pronouns such as you and they are used to refer to the reader. The reader is human and does have hair.

TW for coercion, noncon, dubcon, allusions to a physically and emotionally abusive dynamic, captivity, everyone is at least a little bit untrustworthy in this, mentions of the smell of blood, beastman-specific oddities and anatomy, violent and morbid similes. Just in case, I'd like to say that this is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. A lot of the stuff is more so implied than explicitly stated, but it's still there.

The day he moved up a grade and began his “internship” is the same day he took you with him. Sure, Grim came along, but you’re often so busy, or he’s often so busy, either way. So you haven’t seen your familiar in months, and your life is filled with Leona.

You don’t know why he did this, but the first night you were there, he tapped your uvula with his fingers as he orally serviced you so feverishly that you left teeth indent bruises on his knuckles from biting down so hard as you tried not to be loud. He wore them like jewelry, and you know his brother saw them. Everyone at the table knew what happened, because, according to Leona, no matter how often you shower, the way you smell will always give you away.

That was a little over six months ago. As far as captivity goes, it’s rather cushy. You stay within the confines of the Afterglow Savannah’s palace. Sometimes Leona gets a bit aggressive and you take it, but you’re fed, clothed, and possibly pampered. It could be worse. It could be far worse. You could be in the dungeons. 

You actually don’t know if this place has a dungeon, come to think of it. The last time you asked Leona, he asked you if there was an issue with the room you shared with him. When you tried to explain why you asked, he called you a “dumb herbivore” in a very fond tone of voice, then fell asleep. You didn’t try asking again.

It didn’t stop you from wandering. As it turns out, the Afterglow is mostly populated by beastmen… beastpeople? Aren’t all people beasts? Whatever, the point is, you’re basically the only person in the palace with muted senses. You often think back to Rook, wondering how he trained himself to use his senses so well. You tried to practice once, but Leona caught you hiding a  ball and chucked the thing out the window, telling you to find something better to do with your “skills.” You sure used one of your senses, at least.

Unfortunately, these “muted” senses, despite them being completely sensible for your human state of being, have led to some issues. For instance, when someone approaches you, you don’t notice until they’re within your field of awareness. Beyond that, according to Leona, Farena, Cheka, and Farena’s wife, you also tend to just reek of blood.

You have no idea why, and you’ve never noticed this before. You get out of the shower, having scrubbed hard enough to rid yourself of any dirt but not enough to create micro-abrasions on your skin, and Leona still complains about it. You play fight with Cheka, gentle enough that neither of you gets harmed and he’s giggly, and he pauses his mirth and wrinkles his little nose before asking if you got hurt. Zuri, Farena’s wife, regularly would stop you whenever she saw you, her eyes wide as she asked you if everything was okay. The palace staff didn’t say anything, but they’d constantly be re-filling your first-aid kit, one that was “gifted” to you and one that the staff and Kifaji (despite him being human like you, or maybe just not obviously a beastman) insisted that you carry at all times.

But out of all of them, Farena was the worst. If you were in Cheka’s nursery, even just seconds after the kid fell asleep, Farena would pop out of nowhere. If you lingered a bit too long in the kitchen or hallways, anywhere too far from Leona’s wing, he’d approach with a smile, his arms spread wide. If you came to the dining hall without Leona’ his glowing brown eyes would find you, the intensity akin to a sudden knife wound. His persistence in being around you was all blanketed by his uncomfortable implications when he spoke to you.

Even so, you happened to somehow get lost. The hallways are sort of color-coded, but you’ve passed this same hallway several times, enough for you to be okay with admitting that you’ve been walking in a circle for the past twenty minutes. And, much like the devil, as soon as you thought that if you were there any longer, a certain lion-man would appear, Farena popped up and scooped you into a hearty hug as greeting, your feet coming off the floor.

“Leona’s partner!” He never calls you by name. It’s always just that. You are Leona’s partner, not your own person, you guess, “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

“Yes. Hello, your highness.” You wheezed as he placed you back on the floor.

“Oh, you’re so prickly, just like my baby brother. You two are a perfect match- he does like a bit of bite.”

You rarely knew how to respond to him, so you often didn’t. You just stared at him, like a total moron, but he continued talking like you aren’t giving him the most anserine of looks- a word he has used to describe you before, basically to your face.

“I’ve heard that you forgot your first aid kit. We don’t need you tripping and scratching yourself on Leona’s dresser again, and not with an inability to heal yourself.” He never gave you time to answer, “Of course, I know you aren’t magic, but those of you without it have made some wonderful inventions to make up for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I just left for, like, two seconds so I could return something to the kitchen.”

He nodded, thoughtful, still smiling, “Well, did you hit your head? You’ve been walking in a circle, and you didn’t even stop to say hi to me.”

“No. I, uh.” You cast your gaze down the hallway closest to you, then looked back at Farena, “I am a bit lost. I guess someone else is usually with me when I’m wandering around.”

Leona is not the only person in his family with a cunning streak. You are marginally aware of this, and when Farena’s eyes narrowed, you sucked in a breath.

“Hmm. You’re right, Leona’s partner. It is rather strange not to see you by my baby brother’s side.”

It struck you multiple times in the past that the amount of times you bumped into Farena couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. He’s a king, so why was he never ruling or whatever kings did all day? It was incredibly strange, and you made the same subtle discomforted motions like clockwork. He usually pretended not to notice whatsoever.

His grin was always too bright. You did prefer Leona’s smirk, “Very well. It looks like I’ll need to escort you back to Leona’s quarters, won’t I?”

“Uh. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“You’re such a mousy thing. Come,” He offered you his arm.

You took it, and true to his word, he led you back to Leona’s wing, then straight up to the door. He knocked, and you ducked out of his arm to cautiously open the door. Leona strolled out of the bathroom, hair and skin wet, his eyes not even skimming over you before they flashed to his brother, who strolled in as though he owned the place. Maybe he did. Who owns a palace if not the king?

“Ah, Leona! I found your partner, wandering the halls like a lost lamb.”

As soon as the words process in Leona’s mind, his green eyes are sliding to pin you down. Your limbs feel like lead, and you don’t move or emote, lest he strike. He’s like a snake when he’s like this, which is ironic. Perhaps it’s not ironic, and just comedic. Who knows?

Regardless, Farena keeps talking, “And I missed you at lunch! What a shame. They had your favorite, you know. Meat! And lots of it. Don’t you ever get hungry, being in here all the time?”

If not for everyone talking about the way your skin smells, that comment could have been written off entirely. It didn’t feel great, being indirectly told that you smell like fresh meat, and Leona wasn’t helping much.

“Mmm. No. I don’t like my meat that rare.” Leona grumbles, taking a seat on his bed and waving you over. “Hey, c’mere and braid my hair.”

What was worse? Being told you smell delicious or being told you didn’t smell delicious enough? It was one of those things. You cautiously tied off his braids, capping both of them in beads that Cheka had gifted you. His hair was wet, clinging to his skin as desperately as the water did. You caught yourself watching a drop sliding over Leona’s tattoo and hummed softly. 

Farena was still talking. You didn’t hear the beginning, and you didn’t care about the end, so you completely tuned him out so you could finger detangle the rest of Leona’s wet hair. While you were ignoring Farena, you were pointedly all too aware of Leona’s sounds of pleasure. It took you a while to get used to it. You were a primate, and he was a lion. More lion than ape. He snorted and rumbled, huffed and chuffed, his face twisted in a scowl. 

“Ah, what a shame. I’ll have to speak to you later, Leona. Perhaps you could talk about those plans with Zuri. I’m sure she’d love to listen.” You tuned back in as Farena turned to the door, opening it before remembering himself and waving at you, “Bye bye, Leona’s partner!”

When he was gone, almost as soon as the door was closed, Leona twisted his torso to grab you around the waist and pull you into one of his kisses. You read somewhere that the reason men kiss so… wetly is so they can mark their partner. It makes more sense if they just didn’t want to kiss with dry lips, but you’re no kissing expert. Leona is not an exception to this, you supposed. He always licked his lips before pressing them against yours, slicked with his saliva and often accompanied by a quiet, barely perceptible growl. 

His kisses were dizzying. Possibly because it was difficult to breathe while kissing someone, and possibly because you were usually held in a crushing vice whenever he kissed you. Your poor ribcage had been squeezed many times. 

And just as soon as it started, he dropped you unceremoniously and stood up, walking past your sprawled body on his floor, “We’ve got some big dinner to get to. Get dressed.”

You scrambled to your feet, “Big dinner?”

“Mhm. It’s some official’s birthday. I can’t be bothered to remember who.”

That made enough sense. In the time you’d been here, you’d learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t exactly worth it to go out of your way to be remembered positively by everyone, especially not since you were… with Leona. In all the time you’d been here, you’d never been sure about what the nature of your relationship with him was, either. Asking would get you some kind of snarky or irritated answer, and not asking but thinking about it made it hard to focus on anything else, so you didn’t think about it.

“Oh. You see Grim today?” You asked while getting dressed in your own green and black dashiki, like a couple’s outfit in the matching pattern of Leona’s.

Like he always did, he stared for a moment before making a few small adjustments. It was funny, he couldn’t be bothered to care about his own appearance, and yet, when it came to you…

“Yeah, He’s good. Still working on the mage stuff.”

“Mmm. Okay. Thanks.” You mumbled, lifting your arms so Leona could look you over again, “What?”

“You stink like my brother. If we had time, I’d fix that, but…”

“What does he smell like?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I smell like?” He snapped, and you flinched. Sometimes his irritation came with physical indications, but heavier than the physical indications was the energy around him, “Forget it. Stay close to me tonight.”

You usually did. You hated parties here, but more than the parties themselves, you hated the strangers who came up to you and just said whatever. Last time, someone approached you and asked how big Leona’s wallet was for you to stick around. You’re learning to like nobility less, not that you particularly liked them before..

You’re tucked against Leona’s back for the entirety of the evening. He’s like a ward. People see him and walk the opposite direction unless they’re drunk or stupid, and those types are in short supply at the beginning of the night. Unfortunately, by the middle of the night, amongst sips of his drinks and nibbles of various finger foods, you felt exhausted and Leona was straight up pissed.

You wondered why for a bit too long. You barely even realized when you ended up back in his room, outside on his balcony. He was stewing, pouting like a toddler. You unstuck yourself from his side and sat in one of the chairs.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. He often did this, putting a noise to his emotion, but no words to explain himself. You’d wised up and figured out early on that it was best not to approach him for this type of thing, “Hey, runt.”

Uh oh. He tended to use that nickname before he did something foul to you. You squirmed in your chair and flinched as he turned around and yanked his shirt over his head. His pants went next. Leona didn’t bother with underwear.

“C’mere. What are you hidin’ in the corner for?” He mumbles, “We’ve got time now.”

Your uh oh gets multiplied. It’s not that you aren’t attracted to Leona, or that you’re not in the mood. It’s not that you’re terrified of him, not that you’re confused by his awkward libido. It’s that you honestly don’t know what he sees in you, sprinkled with a bit of relationship insecurity. You’re here because of him, you and Grim have a home because of him, but what’s going to happen when he gets bored with you? 

He looks over his shoulder at you sharply, “What the hell are you doin’? I said c’mere.”

You swallowed and took a few steps forward, stripping as you walked. The night air makes your skin tingle with goosebumps, your nipples hardening and a shiver rattling through you. It’s a very strong possibility that these feelings have beset you based only on the fact that someone could look up from Zuri’s garden and see you and Leona, both naked on his balcony.

 When you’re standing in front of him, he just stares, one of his hands ever so gently stroking himself. You think it’s funny, the phrase “playing with yourself,” because that is what it is. His fingers softly paw at his heavy balls, gliding up the base of his shaft to tweak the head of his cock under his foreskin. He doesn’t break his gaze on you to look at himself. The hand that is not busy with himself reaches out to grab your waist, just above the start of your hip, and yank you closer.

He’s not gentle. Not really. You know he has the capacity to be gentle, but he doesn’t really seem to care. In the past, when you’ve pleaded with him to be gentle, he’s told you that he would treat you like glass if he thought you were made of it, but since he’s seen you suffer worse (what is worse?) he doesn’t see the point in bothering. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch often hurts. Now is not an exception, and you make your displeasure clear with a soft noise of discomfort.

“Shhh. You wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Leona mumbles, pressing his face against the skin on your stomach, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

You absolutely hate it when he smells you like this, but that’s not important right now, “Wh-what?”

“With Farena. You looked freaked out.” Leona ever so lightly kisses the pit of your bellybutton, “He do anything to you?”

You’re not a fan of Leona acting like this. While it seems like he cares, you know from past experience that he’s typically, if not always, on the brink of a jealous meltdown. His jealous meltdowns almost always end with you sitting alone in the bathroom, tending to your own wounds as he sleeps like a kid who just threw a tantrum. So you decide to give a simple answer before distracting him, at least for a moment.

You scratch the nape of his neck, since he doesn’t like you touching his ears, “He was just his usual off-putting self. Nothing else.”

Leona grunts and looks up at you, so you take your chance. You lean down, sitting on your knees, and press a mock-reverent kiss to Leona’s thigh. He’s surprisingly hairless, for someone who is more lion than ape. You suppose the same could be said for yourself, as someone who is more ape than lion. 

Leona’s unimpressed face slants into a smirk, and his hand that was previously fondling his genitals slides to cup your cheek, fingertips rubbing behind your ear.

Now that it’s right in front of your face, you wish that you hadn’t decided that this was the best option for distraction. You think maybe anything would be better than catching those barbs in the back of your throat. The little softly-curved nubs circling the base of the head of Leona’s cock flare out a bit, resembling one of those Elizabethan ruffs, tattered by the passage of time and reduced to the skeleton. They aren’t sharp, not truly, but they’re uncomfortable, especially when you forget that the more worked up Leona gets, the further they poke out and the harsher they feel. It’s similar to someone’s very carefully blunted fingernail and fingertip rubbing against your cheeks.

You try to suck up your carefully hidden disgust and press a soft kiss to the very tip of Leona’s dick, wetting your lips with his salty pre. Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste bad. You would think that his skin, his cum, would taste bitter and harsh, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Perhaps that’s a silver lining in this wicked situation.

Regardless, a quiet grumble from him makes you snap back into the reality of where you are, and you figure you may as well get to work. You slide your lips down to his base, wincing as the spongy head of his member punches the back of your throat and his hand slides back to grip your nape.

“You trying to bore me to death, runt? You know I hate this teasing shit.”

That’s right. He absolutely loathes it. You bob your head a little more expeditiously, trying to ignore the slick mixture of drool and pre that is escaping from the corners of your lips and the ever-increasing strength of Leona’s thrusts against your face.

Despite your senses being the most dull in the palace, you can sort of hear the festivities downstairs, and Leona chuckles, standing with your head still cradled in his hand so he can actually start thrusting. It always begins with you trying to set a gentle pace and it always quickly dissolves into chaos. He’s lazy, but if he’s anything more than lazy, it’s a shameless pleasure chaser. You would think that you would have learned by now.

“You can’t hear them. They’re not at all concerned with me, they’re wondering where you went off to. But everyone knows that you belong to me, so they should know that you’re with me.” Leona mumbles. 

You gag, his dickhead wetly popping against the back of your throat as the fluids in your mouth froth with the speed of his motions, gooey trails roping down to cling to your cheeks and collarbones, connecting to Leona’s shifting hips. At least he doesn’t stink today.

A bug lands on your shoulder and flits away as you choke on Leona as he shoves his cock down your throat. Maybe you should feel a bit more grateful that this is happening partially outside, and that way you can have constant reminders that you’re still alive and not in some form of purgatory, serving time for your very minor moments of humanity when you were alive. 

Leona snarls, “You’re just so cute, with those lips wrapped around me. I wonder if my brother would keep flirting with you if he knew that you were like this in private.”

The implications of that statement are absolutely lost on you. You’re aware that Leona knows how you feel about your current life to a degree, but he doesn’t give a damn about your emotions. Whatever he’s talking about is absolutely just him babbling out some sex-addled nonsense. As the barbs scrape against your uvula, you gag and try to push his hips away so you can catch your breath for a second.

He doesn’t let up. Sweat is sliding over his skin, beading into crystal pearls and sliding down to flavor the skin in your mouth with their salt. If you don’t puke from his roughness, you’re going to puke from ingesting so much sodium. His smirk grows and his fingers massage the base of your head as if he isn’t pounding into your throat.

“Aw… too much? Maybe if you were a bit more active, I’d be done a bit sooner.” He coos.

You don’t fully hate Leona. He has given you somewhere to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, for both you and Grim, but whenever he gets like this, taunting you even though he’s using you like a cheap sleeve, you feel an indescribable, hopeless anger. Regardless, you bring one of your hands up to the copious amounts of drool and pre and sweat that are covering your skin, collecting the goop on your fingers. You cup his ass with your non-gooey hand and spread that cheek, plunging a finger into his asshole and aimlessly crooking your finger.

His hips spasm, his hand fists into your hair and he lets out a low grumble, “Rrr.”

You slowly ease your other gooey finger into his ass and hope that he will cum soon so you can catch your breath. You need a shower, and he’s probably going to just go to bed after this. You’re more tired than he is, and you’re actually beginning to think that you both might be a bit tipsy. You need this to end, and you need it to end soon.

Your prayers are answered. You feel his cock bob in the back of your throat, the glans tapping that soft spot that makes you feel it in the back of your nose, and he yanks your head back, your lips releasing him with a somewhat loud pop.

His cum is hotter than it has any right being. You suppose since he runs hot, it’s not that shocking, but you’re also aware that the whole reason that the balls are not an internal thing is because the human body is way too hot for sperm to live for long periods of time inside of the body. This information is irrelevant, however, because Leona has just made the mess on your skin that much worse. You sigh as he lets go of you, flopping back into his chair and gesturing to his cock again.

“Can you clean me up before you go running off?”

You’d love to tell him no, to ask him to shove it, but you grunt your acquiescence and tongue-clean his messy skin, as if you aren’t covered in more slime than he is. Once done, you stand up and gather your clothes, placing them in the laundry bin in the bathroom and getting in the shower.

You scrub a little harder than usual, but not hard enough to break skin, not even enough to create micro-abrasions. Once out, you throw on one of Leona’s gaudy yellow tees and take a seat on the bed. He’s already curled up under the covers, but the soft tapping of his tail lets you know that he isn’t sleeping. You slide under the covers yourself and Leona rolls over, pulling your back into his chest.

“Hey.” He mumbles into your hair, “You stink like a fresh kill.”

What’s worse? Smelling like blood in a den of predators or being in the den of predators to begin with?

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