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#he looks great in any color let’s be real
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.
A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!
And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!
[Read on AO3]
Chapter 1/34 - ink and paper
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She'd never have guessed...
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Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”
Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.
stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully
loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #
The word “family” is circled three times.
She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She’d never have guessed…
“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.
“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.
He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”
“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.
‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.
Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his. 
She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders
“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.
His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.
She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.
Typical.
“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.
She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.
“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”
He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”
“But you're looking into it because…”
“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”
She stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Since when?”
Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.
“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.
He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”
It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”
“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”
What does she say to that? Is she interested? 
“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”
He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.
“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.
She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”
“Scully…” he tries.
“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.
The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.
He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.
In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.
He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.
He picks up the pace.
“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.” 
His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this. 
“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”
“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”
Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy. 
“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”
She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.
He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight. 
“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.
There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.
“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”
This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.
“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”
That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.
Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.
“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.
She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.
“Usually.”
She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.
“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.
“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”
He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.
“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”
She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”
He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.
“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”
“Talked about what?”
He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.
“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”
She blinks back at him, speechless.
“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”
She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.
“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”
She chuckles softly.
“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”
With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.
She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything. 
She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.
“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.
“I was just worried about you.”
She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”
“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”
Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she? 
Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.
His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.
“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.
“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”
He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs. 
“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”
He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.
She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.
“Okay.”
~~~
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ktficworld · 18 hours
Text
Behind The Red Curtains
Pairing: soft dark! Steve Rogers x actress! reader
Summary: You come to know that your success might not be solely because of your talent.
Warnings: 18+, dub-con, forced relationship, bondage, size kink, degradation + praise kink, choking, oral(f receiving ), unprotected sex( it's fiction, your life's not), dirty talk, explicit language, explicit sexual content.
(Let me know if I forgot something)
Prompt: Oral sex, overstimulation, praise, Mob au, Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”
A/N: So, this is my entry for the cum together extravaganza hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18
I wanted to write this for a long time after the provocation by @biteofcherry 👀. I hope you all enjoy and this is my first time writing smut so, be gentle.
Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Main masterlist
Steve Rogers masterlist
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“Johnny Storm was seen with the new sensation in the modelling industry yesterday night. Rumor has it-”
You pressed the switch-off button with more force than needed as the squeaky voice of the anchor finally died down. Throwing the remote across the bed, you groaned in agitation.
You were dating Johnny Storm. Everything was going well, the meeting was story worthy, he was handsome, charming and had some good qualities you were looking for. This was the first relationship you got into since entering the film industry. Because you may be a hopeless romantic, but you were also choosy.
You didn’t know what happened in the process that just torpedoed your budding relationship. One day you were walking out of a cafe hand-in-hand and the next day, he was fucking some modelling sensation. Maybe you got lost in translation.
Or maybe he was just a fucking asshole. No matter what happened it showed you his true colors. That or instead of coming to you to talk out his issues, he went around, fucking and ghosted you.
Oh, but that was not the problem. The real problem was that you were shooting a movie with him. A romantic movie, with sex scenes. And you have no idea how you would be able to show any affection or chemistry on the screen without being awkward as fuck. This would be the best test of your acting skills for sure.
“Why do you look like you regret being born?” your friend and manager, Wanda asked as she entered your room.
You glanced at her and rolled your eyes. She was trying to lighten your melancholic mood but, it was of no use. “You know damn well why.”
She sighed. “I know, but you’re a great actress. You could easily pull off a serial killer then a rom-com is nothing for you. Don’t get worked up about it. Just imagine your celebrity crush instead.”
You laughed at that. You worked with people whom the masses considered celebrity and if you had a crush, you’d simply ask them out. So, you’re stuck in that department.
“I appreciate your support and I’ll get over this. Just give me some time. Is that why you came here?”
Wanda shook her head with a smile. “No, actually the PR guy told me to tell you to go to partage restaurant. Someone wants to meet you.”
You frowned. “You know if I started giving time to ‘someones’ then I won’t even be able to breathe. I need the specifics.”
“He didn’t tell me. Said the person didn’t want to be known till you meet them. But he said you need to go or they’ll be pissed and it could pose a problem to your career.”
Some rich asshole again. You pinched your nose in frustration. People really glamorised a celeb’s life but if they knew that you all have to play rich people’s puppets, they wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about it. 
“Fine, I’ll go. What time and day?”
“8 p.m Sunday.”
“Great. Now get lost, I need my beauty sleep.”
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Your heels clicked on the floor as you stepped inside the restaurant to utter silence. 
The usually bustling restaurant was deserted. There was no violin swimming in the air, mingling with the chatter of the expensive people, the polished tables had no spilled drinks and the fine plates had no leftovers. The lobby had no sight of a reception and all the staff had evaporated out of existence. You were half doubting yourself that maybe you arrived at the wrong time or date. Maybe the restaurant was closed.
But all of them vanished when a prim and proper lady approached you. You had never seen her before but you didn’t care to ask if she was new.
“Good evening, ma’am, you may go to the VIP area upstairs. Sir is waiting for you there.” She said in a professional voice.
“Yeah, sure. But can I ask why the restaurant is empty?”
“He booked the entire restaurant.” She said like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was not like this place costed more than the top-paying actors in the Hollywood.
You thanked the woman with a polite smile you went upstairs to get to the VIP section.
The he made you shudder from inside. Another sleazy old man who thought that you would open your legs for him just because he was rich was awaiting you and judging by the stunt he pulled. You’d have to be more tactful.
Reaching the shiny golden doors with a lion emblem, separating the demi-gods from the gods, you knocked on the door of the VIP room.
“Come in.” A thick and deep voice called out, making you frown. How come an old man has such a great voice?
Oh, but how wrong you were. Because, as soon as you opened the door, in front of you, sat a man who was far from aged. He was pure muscles. His rings sparkled in the chandelier lights. Draped in the finest black suit with his blonde hair combed back, sat none other than Steve Rogers, the mafia lord of New York. The one who you have been trying to avoid your entire career. Who posed as a successful businessman but everyone was aware of how he earned his dollars. Just, they were too afraid to acknowledge it.
You couldn’t move an inch, frozen from fear and surprise. You had only met him once, during the premiere of your debut film and people had acted like he wasn’t someone who could wipe them off from the face of the earth without even blinking an eye. That night, his eyes were glued to you like Hades's gaze on Persephone. So intense and consuming that you never wanted to see him again.
And now, here you were.
“Sit down, darling.” He husked out, the sound of alcohol filling his glass reverberating through the walls.
Breaking out of your trance with a gulp. You pulled out the chair and sat down across from him while your heart was in your throat. “Good evening, Mr. Rogers. What brings me the pleasure of your company.’ You managed to get out without your voice cracking.
He smirked and leaned back on his chair. “It’s your beauty, your talent and your creativity that brings you here, sweetheart. I’m a big fan of art and beautiful things, you are both of them.”
“Thank you…” You drawl out, expecting him to continue.
“I liked you the moment I saw you. In your pink dress, you looked so innocent, so shy. Overwhelmed by the media attention. I knew you would do something big so I gave you the freedom to shine and shine you did. However, it looks like your freedom has got to your head.” The last sentence was said with a lower voice and an ominous smile.
Your hands became sweaty as they clamped down on the armrest. “I’m not getting what you are trying to say.” You whispered out. 
His chuckle only made your heartbeat faster as he leaned forward and his gaze bore into your soul. “Let me rephrase, I claimed you the moment I saw you. But I knew you had potential so I let you go but your little dance with Johnny Storm made me realise it was time you became mine.”
“What-what did you do?” You choked out but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.
You yelped as he yanked your chair closer towards him till your knees were touching. Your chest moved rapidly as he leaned closer, his hands covering yours on the armrest.
“Awww, don’t play stupid, honey. Johnny, he’s a himbo and you are mine,” He said as his left hand moved to caress your cheek as you flinched away from his touch. “So, I pulled some strings, fed some mouths with dollars and your cute little on-set romance came to an end.” Your eyes widened in horror as he was the one that ended your relationship with Johnny. 
He gripped your face in his big hand and turned your head so that his eyes burned through yours. “Trust me, honey, I was generous with him. I could have him disappear and no one would have given a shit.”
“No.” You whispered, wrenching his hands away. You suddenly stood up from your chair, effectively surprising him.
“No?”
“That is not happening. I don’t want to be with you, I’m sorry.”  You stumbled back to the door but before you could touch the doorknob, you were whirled around and pushed against it.
“When did I tell you, you could say no?” Steve growled his hand wrapping around your throat. “If you think you can reject me then you are sorely mistaken, darling. Don’t forget that the production house you work with the most is mine.” 
You gasped. How could it be his? It was of Tony Stark, you scorched the earth and back and found no such connection. 
Steve noticed your reaction and tsked.“You didn’t know? Don’t worry, you are not stupid sweetheart. The public doesn’t know that Stark is nothing but my pawn.” His other hand snaked around to squeeze your ass through your jeans and you screwed your eyes shut as his touch sent tingles through your body and your breaths became shorter.
He tugged you closer to him with your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. “Now, do you still want to be stubborn?”
Now, you were no dumbo. If Steve can jeopardize your relations with his production then he can also ruin your entire career. Mob involvement in the film industry is an unsaid rule. However, you didn’t know their claws were so deep and sharp.
“And what if I leave? Leave this industry?” What could be more precious than your pride?
He gave you a lopsided grin. “Then you’ll just be the wife of Steve Rogers who was an actress. Remember princess, I’ll never leave you alone. If I held onto you for three years what makes you think I’ll not find you and drag you to my hell?” 
Tears threatened your waterline as you murmured. “You are really forcing me?” What a stupid question to be asking a mobster.
He let out a throaty chuckle and moved his hand from your neck to his pant pocket however he was still invading your private space as his lips were inches away from your lips. “I’m giving you options: either come willingly or I’ll force you. Your choice, darling.” 
He fished out a silver card from his pocket, tracing the sharp and cold edges of it on your face, meandering down your neck and stopping only when it reached the valley of your breast. You gasped harshly when he slid the card inside your bra, the chilled hard paper resting against your warm skin.
“My number, call me when you make a decision. You have one week.”  He whispered against your lips before sealing the unspoken vow with a kiss.
With that he slipped away from your body and took his seat again like dark clouds gilding away from the moon before shortly, engulfing it once again. He resumed sipping from his glass like nothing serious happened and said nonchalantly. “You can go now.” 
You ran to your car like you were burned. Which you were, your soul was burning. Burning from the choices you were given. Which was essentially choosing which cage you preferred better, golden or grey.
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“Did you like the dinner?” Steve asked in his deep voice as he sat across from you at the dining table.
Blinking your eyes away from the full moon that shone outside the dining room window, you glanced at Steve and nodded. “Yes, I liked it.” 
You did come to him willingly in the end, after all, what choice did you have? The moment you admitted your defeat and called Steve flashed in front of your eyes. His smug and triumphant words ringing in your ears.
“Nice choice, princess.”
“You seem to like the moon a lot,” Steve observed as his piercing gaze never left you, noting your every move and reaction.
You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you. His presence still sent chills of fear down your spine. His imposing figure and intense gaze made your heart race. Not to mention the way his eyes sparkled with desire and lust whenever they laid upon you.
“Yes, the night is beautiful.” You replied softly.
“Do you want to go upstairs? In the balcony for a better view? I also have a very pretty garden.” Steve offered and you refrained from frowning. 
From the moment you accepted his advances, Steve has been acting like the perfect lover. Sending flowers, expensive gifts, wanting to have nice and deep conversations and supporting you in your work. But still, you couldn’t decipher if he was actually being nice or plain manipulative.
However, you had grown tired, sitting and chatting in the room, the walls suffocating you. “I would like that.”
Steve grinned and stood up from his chair, taking a few long strides he reached you and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slipping your hand in his, you got up. You sucked a sharp breath when his hand tightened around your smaller one and his eyes grew darker. You ignored the building tension as he led you upstairs, to the balcony.
His mansion was spectacular, painted beige with marble murals. It resembled old French castles with intricate paintings from Greek mythology on walls to railing carved with various plant and flower motifs.
When he said he enjoyed beauty, he wasn’t bluffing.
Stepping on the top floor, there was a lounge area with a fireplace on the right and a couch on the left. In front was the glass door leading to the balcony. Steve opened the door and you had to hold back your gasp as the view was absolutely breathtaking. 
It had the same marble railing as before and also had a sitting space for two people with two chairs and one glass table, perfect for a cosy morning or evening. The balcony ran along the entire top floor, connected with all the rooms.
However, the main highlight was the enormous garden that stood before your eyes. Tall trees were perched vertically of all types, some bearing fruits, some flowers and some none. Speaking of flowers, bright, colourful flowers adorned the garden like jewels. Rose, jasmine, sunflower, etc scattered all over with moonlight pouring on them.
It was straight out of a princess movie and you could spend your entire life wandering inside it, reading books under the tree shade.
“It’s gorgeous.” You whispered to Steve as you stepped forward, leaning on the railing.
“I know, my mother made it. She wanted me to keep the garden big and flourishing. So, I put everything I could to keep it perfect.” Steve revealed and moved behind you, his body pressing against yours.
You were so engrossed in gazing at the garden that you missed his hand coming to cover yours and he laid a soft kiss on your cheek.
“What are you doing?” You questioned as you tried to step away from his grip but he had you trapped.
“Enjoying my view,” He said as he gripped your hips and pressed them against him, his semi-hard cock pressing against your ass. “See what you do to me?”
His lips trailed down, kissing and sucking on your neck. His left hand travelled from your hips to your breast, he squeezed the underside of your tities while grinding his erection against your bottom. Your breathing was getting heavy as he continued to massage your boobs and sucked on your neck, collarbone and shoulder.
You had to refrain from biting your lips. His strong body and demanding moves were making you unwillingly wet. But he forced you into a relationship you didn’t want, you didn’t want this, right?
“I don’t want to do it.” You whispered despite wanting nothing but his hands under your scarlet dress.
“No?” He chuckled. “Let’s check, shall we?” He whispered seductively in your ear.
Your eyes widened as you thrashed in his grip but he stopped all your attempts to deny the truth with a hand around your neck and a squeeze that made you go still. His other hand glided under your dress and found your panties damp.
“Your pussy proved you wrong, princess.” He said with a smug laugh. He sucked at your pulse point as his fingers moved your lace panties aside and caressed your folds. The suddenness made you let out a choked moan as your hold tightened on the railing.
His words embarrassed you but you couldn’t deny that his touch was making your body betray you. He played your body like an instrument.
His fingers ran along your petals, spreading your arousal and brushing your clit, his index finger teasing your entrance when he abruptly stopped.
You blinked, gasping and panting. You were about to glance at him in confusion when he bent you over, your head resting against the marble railing as he went down on his knees, bunching up your dress around your waist. He ripped off your panties, the sound heating your cheeks with humiliation.
“You deserve to be punished.” He said through gritted teeth as he slapped your clit, making you jerk at the delicious sting as he spread your legs wider for him so your pussy was on full display. Wet and ready.
“Spank your ass till it’s burning for going out with that pathetic excuse of a man Johnny or have Bucky watch you as I fuck you senseless. He’s also a fan after all." He spread your labia and sucked on your clit, making you moan out loud as your stomach flipped.
“But I can’t, because this pussy is too tempting of a distraction.” He lamented as his lips went down to your pussy and his tongue teased your cunt with slow yet precise strokes.
Your left hand moved to his hair and tugged on the blonde locks as his administration made your clit pulsate with need. You couldn’t decipher whether you wanted him to stop or continue.
He tutted on you pulling his hair. You whimpered at the loss of his mouth on your pussy when the clicking of his belt echoed in the empty space. He yanked both your hands behind your back and secured them in place with his belt, the grip firm but not harsh. 
“No.Touching.” He growled in your ear as his words were accentuated by a slap on each of your buttcheeks, making you whimper in pain and pleasure as you let your forehead rest against the cool marble and he knelt again.
He took your clit in his mouth again but with more ferocity as your pussy clenched around nothing, “Oh my god, Steve yes!” You mewled.
“Captain or I won’t let you cum.” He commanded as his fingers joined in and drew slow and teasing circles around your cunt.
“Captain, please.” You pleaded as your orgasm started to build up in your stomach.
“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” He finally eased his index finger inside of you, his thick and long finger filling your pussy and you were afraid as to how you were going to take his cock as his finger alone stretched your vagina.
He pumped his finger in and out of you all the while kissing and sucking your clit. When you bucked into his finger he added another one, exploring your velvety walls to find your spot that would make you sing. He curled his fingers when you dripped around his fingers and mouth.
“Mhmm, captain. Feels so good.” You cried out as your climax was approaching you faster, your skin glistening with sweat under the pale moonlight. It was so embarrassing, being this crying and moaning mess he had turned you into. His hands kneading your thighs and ass.
“Are you going to cum, princess?” Steve asked in a husky voice as he kept up his pace, replacing his mouth with his thumb to grow circles around the bundle of nerves,
Your skin was on ablaze, the coil tightening in your belly as you were tethering on the of falling apart. “Yes, Captain. Please let me cum.” You requested, spellbound. He didn’t need to ask you to beg, you were already sliding into your subspace. His finger found your g spot as he twisted his fingers, making you whimper as your breath shuddered.
He snickered, sending vibrations through your body. “I didn’t know you were so obedient, good to know.”His hand came down on your clit and it was the final straw that threw you over the edge. 
You came with a loud moan as the blinding pleasure brought tears to your eyes and you gushed around his lips and fingers, coating his chin. He lapped all your juice, his pace not halting as he drank your nectar greedily.
Your body was quivering from the force of your orgasm, your heart racing as you tried to collect yourself.
Steve got up on his feet and you almost collapsed when he wrapped a sturdy hand around your shaking body, pressing you against his chest. He jutted your chin up and grinned down at you. “Aw, you already look so fucked out darling but it’s just the beginning, we have the whole night.” He smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your tired whimpers and moans.
After devouring your mouth and leaving you breathless. He picked you up and started walking to his left. You were too dizzy to notice your surroundings till you were hitting silk bed sheet and plush mattress. You glanced at Steve through your hazy vision as he stood at the end of the bed.
He smirked down at you. “How about you return the favour, sweetheart? Strip.” He ordered and it was enough to clear your mind of any hangover.
Your hand snaked to your back and you slid down the zipper and pulled off your dress, your breast clad in red lace coming into view as you completely removed the dress and discarded it on the floor.
You then unclasped your bra, trepidation and anticipation mingling together as your boobs spilled out. Now, you were completely naked, your panties already torn and tossed away.
“On your hands and knees.” He commanded as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, his abs and chest made your mouth water and you wanted to grab and touch him but shook away the thoughts.
You got on your hands and knees, clothes rustling till the bed dipped behind you. Steve ran his hand up your spine, sneaking underneath to grop your breast. You mewled as his thumb tweaked your pebbled nipples, twisting and flickering the buds till you were writhing under him.
His other hand smacked your ass, causing you to whimper. “Spread your legs more, I want to see that pussy.”
You spread your legs some more, displaying your glistening cunt to Steve’s hungry gaze. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He said as he played with you enough that you were whining before he rubbed the tip of his cock over your cunt, spreading your arousal and his pre cum.
You shuddered, you had an inclining that he was big but how much? That you didn’t know since you couldn’t see his dick from your position.
He slapped the head of his cock on your pussy and you visibly shuddered. He did it a few more times before you were dripping for him and was on the verge of sobbing in frustration. 
“Such a shame that it is about to get ruined by my big cock.” He declared and pushed the tip inside you. You moaned as you awaited your eventual mounting.
You clutched the silky sheets as he slowly bottomed out, your walls spasmed as they tried to accommodate his length. You were so full already and he was gracious enough to give you time to adjust. All the while he explored your body, kissing your spine, kneading and spanking your thighs, ass and breasts. His touch was electrifying and in no time, you were whimpering for him to move.
“Ah, someone is getting impatient.” Steve mocked but began moving out of your hot channel. He was slow and deliberate, his girth dragged through your walls and your pussy fluttered.
He hissed. “Don’t do that darling if you want to walk the next day.” He pulled out all the way, only the tip remained inside. Pushing your head further into the pillow as he slammed inside your cunt in one stroke, taking your breath away.
“Look at your pussy, pulling me in and clenching around me,” He grunted as his hold on your hips tightened. He looked where you two were connected and sighed in awe. “I didn’t know you were such a slut, you look so innocent. But look at you now, dripping around a man’s dick you barely know,” He pulled out again and thrusted back in with the same power. The slow yet rough pace he set made you cry out in pleasure as your climax started to stir in your lower belly again. “But I like how cockdrunk you are that you just don’t give a shit anymore.” He groaned and pulled out.
He changed his angle slightly and when he thrusted back again, he hit your g-spot and you screamed, flames of pleasure intensifying. He tugged you by the hair, pressing you against his toned chest. “Tell me that you are my slut.” He growled in my ear.
“I’m your slut, Captain!” you said breathlessly as his deep thrusts made you gasp.
His hand came to your clit and his thumb started drawing circles, making you tremble in his grip. “Yes, you are my slut. My fuck toy, who would let me do whatever I want and whenever I want with her because I own you now. Repeat what I have said.” He thrusted harder and if it wasn't for his strong grip, you would have fallen down. 
“I'm your fuck toy. You can do whatever you want and whenever you want with me because you own me now.” You cried. 
“Such a good obedient girl- Ahh, taking my cock so well. Now, you are going to ask me to make you cum.” He groaned his thumb sped up. Leaning down, he sucked on your pulse point, surely leaving a hickey, marking you as his.
“Please Captain, let me cum! Let me cum around your big cock.” You squealed out. Tilting your face upwards he kissed, hard and rough, you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on him.
“Good girl, now cum for me.” He demanded as fingers and thumb pinched your clit, his cock hitting your sweet spot in quick succession.
You shrieked ‘captain’ as you came around his girth, squirting on his dick. “Good, what a good little slut for your captain.” He moaned in satisfaction as he nibbled at your earlobe, fucking you through your release. 
He let go of you when your shaking died down. Your face fell on the pillow as you tried to catch your breath. Your fucked out mind didn’t register that he didn’t come till you were being flipped on your back. Coming face-to-face with his annoyingly handsome face.
“You didn’t think it was over, did you?” He rasped with a smirk as he plunged into your cunt once again, but this time with more fervour.
You instantly mewled but the overstimulation and coming two times had worn you out, you weren’t used to this. You attempted to scoot away from Steve. “I-I can’t, too much.” 
He pulled you back down on his cock, wrapping your legs around his waist. He restrained your hands over his head with one hand, leaving you unable to escape the pleasure he was giving you. “You can and you will. Get used to it, sweetheart. I’m being gentle right now,” He growled as he moved on top of you.
The pace was rough and fast, the bed rattling with each thrust, your boobs jiggled from the speed. He placed his hand on your lower stomach. “Do you feel me here?” He asked, the belly bulge sending shivers down your spine.
“Yes, I do, Captain.” You managed to choke out as he pounded in your pussy mercilessly.
“Then enjoy it, honey. Enjoy, writhing and moaning underneath me. My cock stretching your tight cunt, because that’s where you belong. Taking my cock like a good little fuck doll.” He husked as the force of his thrust increased with each passing second. The pain and pleasure mixing made tears fall from your eyes, the knot tightening yet again.
Steve leaned over you, kissing your tears, trailing down to your neck and then your boobs, groping and licking the plump area before taking your pebbled nipples into his hot mouth.
“Oh my god!” Your back arched, pleasure zapping through your body like thunder as his hot tongue sucked on your nipples and his hand massaged your other breast. All the while his thick cock rammed into you, his pubic areas brushing your clit.
Your hands jolted to touch him but he had your hands pinned above. You shut your eyes and enjoyed the unyielding pleasure he was bestowing upon you as pressure built up for the third time in your stomach. Your moans and his grunts bounced off the wall, so did the clapping sound of skin slapping against the skin.
Suddenly, his grasp loosened before coolness touched your ring finger. You looked up as he slid a beautiful sapphire ring into your finger, sealing your fate with his forever. You managed out a surprised gasp. He brought your hand down and pinned it to your side, giving you a proper view of the ring as it sparkled under the stark glowing moon.
“Imagine me, sweetheart,” Your breath caught in your throat as his speed grew frantic, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt as he chased his own release. “Imagine me when you have to romance on screen with some pitiful A-list actor.” He whispered in your ear, intertwining your hands with his as he kissed your lips. It was softer than the previous ones but no less demanding.
“Imagine me when you have to pretend to fuck someone on set. Because I know,” He whispered against your lips before lowering his hand to your clit and he drew fast circles on the bundle of nerves to help you fall apart. 
Steve cursed under his breath and thrusted faster when your walls clenched his dick. “Because I know that I have ruined you for any other man. Ruined this pussy for anyone except me. So, imagine me when you kiss a man and realize that he’ll never make you feel this good.” You nodded along his words as tears streamed down your cheeks, smearing your eyeliner and mascara but he paid no heed to it. Rather, enjoying your fucked out state.
The fullness of his dick inside your pussy and the overwhelming stimulation finally tipped you over the edge as you came the hardest and it hit you like a tsunami.
After some more brutal thrust, he came inside of you with a loud groan. His hot cum spilling inside your abused cunt as it milked him dry. He pumped into you a few more times, giving you every last drop of his seed and staying inside your warm channels till his cock softened.
He put his forehead against yours as he finally pulled out and you almost whined at the loss of dick but restrained yourself as his cum leaked out of your hole.
Only heavy breaths echoed in the spacious room as both of you caught your breath. You were beyond regaining your previous strength as you couldn’t even move a muscle. However, Steve recovered shortly afterwards as he kissed your forehead and whispered smugly. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.” 
You didn’t answer because he was right, you enjoyed every bit of it even if you didn’t want to. Before you could drown yourself in self-pity. Steve picked you up and took you to his bathroom to soak you in a nice, warm bath…
23 notes · View notes
fire0nfire · 10 days
Text
king of my heart | smau
pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader
summary: y/n is an F1 content creator loved among the grid and the fans, and more than one person ships her with lando due to how close they've always been. but when y/n goes to her first IndyCar race, the last thing she expects is being involved in rumours with another mclaren driver.
warnings: love triangle? kinda.
author's note: i might turn this into a mini series but i'll see how it goes. btw english it's not my first language so if there's any grammatical error please let me know so i can fix it, ty🧡 now enjoy!
part 1 | part 2
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yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; it's indycar weekend in Long Beach, babyyyy!] [caption 2; time for practice and snacks🌞]
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patriciooward
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liked by indycar, zbrownceo, yourusername, and 83,527 others!
patriciooward INDY500 colors and back in the streeetz🤩
user1 lookin' goooood🔥
arrowmclaren it'll look even better with confetti covering it😉 user2 admin knows a win is coming!! 💪
user3 Este es tu año, cabrón! VAMOOOOS 🇲🇽
user4 is it a requirement to be handsome to drive in mclaren? cause daaaamn
user5 same girl, same
yourusername black is the new papaya fr 🔥 can't wait for tomorrow!
patriciooward hopefully you'll be wearing #5 user6 OMG?!?!!!??? yourusername can't show favoritism! i'm a professional, sir patriciooward it can be our secret then 😉 user7 OH MY- HELLOOOOO? user8 landonorris come get your girl bro!!! user9 omfg mr o'ward i wasn't familiar with your game user10 y/n sweety, wrong mclaren driver landonorris 🤨 user11 she really said i want a mclaren, don't care which one😭 user12 and she's so real for that
user13 let's goooo Pato!! 🦆🧡
user14 y/n and pato's exchange?? NEW SHIP HAS ARRIVED!
user15 i feel like i'm betraying my roots but pato and y/n would be the it couple fr user16 SO TRUE user17 pato and lando deserve sooo much better.
user18 NOT LANDO REPLYING TO THE COMMENT 😂😂
user19 f1twt is about to have a blast with this one 🍿 user20 they already have #teampato and #teamlando hashtags going on 😭😭
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yourusername posted to their story!
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[caption 1; preparation for ���qualy day✨] [caption 2; that's how you arrive in style]
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, alexanderrossi, shelovesformula1, and 76,088 others!
yourusername First IndyCar race ✅ can't explain how incredible this weekend was! I’ve had the pleasure of chatting to so many cool people, discovering so much about this series and meeting so many of you! 🧡 can't wait to show you everything soon 😘
user1 what a babeeeee 😍
frosenqvist so great to meet you! hope you come to another one again soon! 🏁
arrowmclaren we second this! user2 she's an indy girl now 😎 tkanaan especially after all the fun we had last night😜 yourusername oh i'll definitely come back for more races (and parties ofc🙊) user3 she's part of the family now! love to see it user4 mclaren team 🤝 us: being in love with y/n
user5 PATO INTERVIEW??!! WE WON
lissiemackintosh so happy to have met you!! 💖
yourusername can't wait to see u again 🥹 user6 MY FAVES 🤩🤩 user7 girls supporting girls 💞 user8 we need a colab!
landonorris y/n get out of there. That's not your family!
carlossainz55 y/n please hurry, the kid has missed you maxverstappen1 y/n please hurry, we can't stand him anymore maxfewtrell y/n please hurry, he gets whiny when you're not around alex_albon y/n please hurry, oscar is about to commit crime oscarpiastri that is correct, so please y/n hurry landonorris when i asked y'all to back me up, this is NOT what i meant 🙄 yourusername if it helps at all, i've miss you all 🫶 (except Lando) landonorris i hate y'all fr user9 this is the kind of content i pay my internet bill for 😂
user10 literal queen 👑
user11 she couldn't become lando's wag so now she goes to indy to try to find a man lol such a clout chaser
user12 girl stfu she's literally just doin her job user13 try not to sound so bitter next time 💋 user14 get a life, hater
user15 MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user16 i don't think we're talking enough about that last photo
user17 RIGHT?! Y/N X PATO LET'S GOO user18 nah y/n x lando >>>>>>>>
patooward Indy looks good on you 💯 i wonder who took that amazing first pic
yourusername credits to you, amateur😘 user19 you can't convince me they're not flirting user20 i truly don't know if i wanna be pato or y/n... i only know i'd hate to be lando rn 😭 user21 y/n and lando are the endgame user22 Y/N X PATO TILL THE END
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landonorris posted to his story!
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[caption; safe and sound where she belongs]
sooo.... y'all want part 2?
659 notes · View notes
gffa · 5 months
Text
It is still absolutely a marvel to me how much BATFAMILY fic I have been reading and enjoying, it's been awhile since I've gone at such a sustained fever pitch so consistently, which is because this fandom keeps putting out fic that makes me fall in love all over again, along with all the comics I've been reading and enjoying. I am so delighted by how I can bounce around various eras or characters (well, let's be fair, I still have a Dick Grayson Problem That I Am Making Your Problem Too) and there's so much to read that I'm having trouble keeping up!
Join me in having the best problem: Too much good fic to read, because I swear that even when I'm crying because fic has punched me in the feelings, I'm still having a great time and it's definitely not a trap to lure you all into crying with me. Well, unless you're into that. And, in that case, READ AND CRY AND/OR MELT INTO GOO WITH ME, BECAUSE FANDOM IS PROVIDING.
BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Step One: Learning to Catch by TheBlueMoo, dick & bruce, 2k     “Okay, now extend your arms.” It was jarring, Bruce reflected, to be taking instructions from his nine-year-old ward. He was trying to think of it as receiving lessons from an expert gymnast instead, but it wasn’t really helping. or Dick freaks out during training one night, and Bruce isn't entirely sure why ✦ the quiet noise by orphan_account, dick & clark & jim (& bruce), 3.4k     When Batman is in surgery after a stab wound to the lung, Commissioner Gordon sits with Robin at the hospital as they wait for someone from the league to arrive. ✦ The art of falling in the rain by Bob_the_bastard, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.4k     Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been an issue, ordinarily Bruce would have taken a few steps back, caught his breath and continued on. But that night wasn’t normal. ✦ Our roots will not whither away by KrazySuperGirl, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 6.4k     Bruce and Dick return to Gotham. There are plenty of problems and plenty of good days. ✦ Will Protect You From All Around You by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 3k     Bruce has always expected that one day he'll wake up and feel like a Real Adult, but it hasn't happened yet. Why had he thought that this parenting thing would be easy? ✦ Fly South by SonoSvegliato, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.9k     Birds fly south in winter. Robin leaves in the summer. ✦ Vertigo by tinycrown, dick & bruce & ollie & cast, 1.8k     After being ambushed by Count Vertigo's men, Batman's partner isn't doing so well. Green Arrow observes. ✦ Friends by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k     The manor loomed large, surrounded by acres of manicured grass and trees bursting with autumnal colors that made Dick feel like he was gazing at a forest on fire. He was distantly aware that the scene in front of him was incredible, something out of a storybook. He should have been amazed and even grateful, but all he could think was, 'Mom would have loved this.' ✦ There For You by Val_Creative, dick & bruce & cast, 2.4k     Snapshots of how Robin came to be Batman's trusted partner and how Dick became Bruce's beloved son. /Standalone. No pairings. ✦ tummy troubles by brandywine421, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.5k     Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed and warily pulled back the covers. Dick blinked at him with wide, sad blue eyes. "What's wrong?" "Don't feel good," he murmured, scowling when Bruce curled his hand against his cheek. "My stomach hurts." ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k     “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Whole, but not hale by Fae_Winter, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 1.5k     Bruce was never listening to Clark again, damnit ✦ Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes by catboysam, dick & bruce, 1k     Bruce wishes, as he has wished every minute of every day for nearly 20 years, that things were different for himself. But now he also wishes that for Dick. No child should have to experience what they have. But he really is selfish, it seems, because at the same time, how could he possibly want to give up a single second with this little miracle in his arms? ✦ yet to be friends by rxsecret, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 2.3k     It's the annual Wayne Gala, and one of the few reporters allowed at the event just so happened to be from Metropolis. ✦ And I’ll look into your eyes to find out if I’m real by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick, 1.6k     Bruce wants a lot of things. A bath. Seeing his family. Not having been missing for a whole year. He wants Dick to wake up and realize he’s not a hallucination.
BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ medicine by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, ~1k     “We have to get out of here,” Dick says, trying and failing to sit up. “Before, before they get back.” “Dick, listen to me. You’re sick,” Bruce says, running a hand through Dick’s hair. “You’re in an isolation unit at the Watchtower’s medical bay.” Dick shakes his head. That can’t be right. “They’re trying to, to poison me.” ✦ Someday All Of This Will Go Away by WanderIntoFics, dick & bruce, alternate version character death, 2.3k     Bruce never stopped telling Dick he loved him. It takes a heart-wrenching and terrifying experience with an alternate future Bruce for Dick to realize that maybe he stopped being able to hear it. ✦ vacation town by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.6k     Normally, Dick wouldn't enjoy recovering from a stab wound from a poisoned knife, but he has to admit, it's nice to be home. ✦ all i can by emavee, dick & bruce, 1.7k     Whatever they injected Dick with is taking away his senses. Bruce tries to hold on for both of them. ✦ my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm by emavee, dick & bruce, 5.6k wip     Five times Dick held Bruce's hand, and one time Bruce held his. ✦ Moving on by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & bruce & cast, 2.7k     When he’d been called to Gotham, Dick had expected to do the job and then get moving to the next thing, and then the next, and then the next. An abrupt meeting with the side of a building interrupts his plans.
BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Chatterbox by Ptelea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & donna & roy & cast, 24.7k     "Yeah, I'm fine," Dick said. Then he frowned, because he had not just meant to say that. Or: Eight times that spells or serums affected Dick's ability to speak and / or their aftermath. ✦ Misremembered and Misnumbered by miss_aphelion, bruce & dick & jason & clark & diana, 1.9k     Dick may not actually be quite as old as he told everyone he was. In his defense, it wasn't so much lying as that he sort of just forgot. ✦ WE'LL LIVE IN SPACES BETWEEN WALLS. by orpheusaki, bruce & dick & jason, time travel, 4.6k     (Something is different about Dick. Bruce notices.) ✦ Tonight Will Be a Memory Too by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & cass & bruce, 1.2k     They don’t happen often—once a month or so, with varying degrees of spottiness. Sometimes Dick will walk into a room and forget what he’s there for. He’ll forget the locations of things, like where he left his keys or where the refrigerator is. Once he forgot his own name. Even if the episodes don’t occur often, that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. ✦ Can I Sleep With You? by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & damian & titans & cast, 2k     “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked. “‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?” ✦ Broken Silence by Geeves, bruce & dick & cast, 1.3k     Bruce reflects on how quiet the manor used to be. It could be painful at times, but it's not like that anymore. ✦ the care and keeping of your baby talon by quandaries_and_contradictions, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & duke & alfred, reverse robins, talon!dick, 6k     In which everyone is more than a little cautious about the talon Duke brought home. Featuring chandelier swinging, Secret Garden reading, ill-advised sleuthing, and more. ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by Anonymous, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 11.3k wip     Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Iron Bound by coyote_nebula, bruce & dick & jason, 3.1k     Batman never ran out of solutions. He just ran out of ideal solutions. Nightwing finds himself in a tight spot involving a compact car-sized paper roll. ✦ The Mantle by ValleyOfKings, dick & clark & diana & justice league (& bruce) & cast, 2.9k     Batman ‘dies’ and Dick must takes his place. He doesn't want the job but he knows that it is what he must do. He must accept the mantle and protect Gotham. The Justice League must also accept their new Batman. It might have helped if they knew that Batman didn't work as alone as they had once thought. ✦ Bravery, and everything that looks like it by Fleur_de_Violette, bruce & dick & steph, 3.4k     Bruce had promised Dick a fun and chill weekend. Instead, they find themselves in the middle of a burning chemical facility. When he thinks everyone should have been evacuated, Nightwing finds a scientist trying to secure some sort of container. She’s either very brave, or she has a death wish.
BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Superhero: Dick Grayson by batmoniker, dick & jason & cast, 5.3k     In which Dick shows up at the school to pick Jason up after he gets into a fight. ✦ Homecoming by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & bruce, 1.2k     Jason's doped up on pain-meds. Dick's holding his hand while he's bedside monitor. Bruce probably wishes he had a camera. ✦ I do not have wings love (I never will) by dizarys, dick & jason & bruce, 2.5k     Jason Todd was alive. He was also bleeding out on Dick Grayson’s apartment floor. How 'Under the Red Hood' might have ended if Dick was at Bruce and Jason's final warehouse confrontation.
BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ cashmere-soft and irresistible by victoria_p (musesfool), cass/steph, ~1k     Cass and Steph and dumplings and lipstick. ✦ Picking Up Pieces by Cephalogod, bruce & steph & dick, 4k     “Bruce!” Steph called as she approached, weaving between people. His head snapped towards her, and the stark relief in his expression almost stopped her in her tracks. That was just...wrong. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be relieved to see her. He was supposed to be annoyed or resignedly amused, not looking at her like a life raft in the ocean. ✦ Make an Ass of U and Me by Huntress79, Sevidri, bruce/clark & dick, 11.2k     Bruce neglects to explain exactly who the attractive young man that seems to know him so well is, and what their relationship entails. Naturally, there are some misunderstandings. ✦ Presque Vu by PechoraFlow, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 17.4k wip     Bruce gets amnesia and the Batfamily conspires to keep their vigilante side secret from him. They were just trying to keep him home, safe until he recovered. They expected that Bruce would pick up on clues and put together The Batman secret on his own. They didn't expect him to form a different picture entirely. They didn't expect Bruce Wayne would come to hate the Batman.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim, 2.1k     “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” ✦ Time Loop vs Ethiopia by AJElementus, dick & tim (& bruce & jason), 9.1k     In one universe, Jason died while Dick was on a space mission with the Titans. In another? There’s a time loop. In which Jason doesn’t die, Tim joins the family early, and Dick... well... Dick's just trying to figure out what's going on! ✦ so won't you stay, won't you stay (with me?) by dizarys, dick & tim, 1.3k     Tim's having a hard night. So where else does he go but to his big brother's apartment? ✦ under the wing by acrobats, dick & tim & cast, 1.4k     “Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero.” – Marc Brown
BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 71k wip     He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Can't Shake the Feeling by Hayleythewriter, tim/kon & tim/bernard & cassie & bart & dick & damian & cast, 17k     Tim introduces his boyfriend to his friends. Almost everyone likes him. ✦ The Electric Pull of Spring by Merelymine, tim/kon, nsfw, 4.3k     "I feel fine," Kon says, breathing deeply. He leans towards Tim and takes an even deeper, longer breath. "I feel really, really good, actually. And you smell—you smell really good." ✦ A No Good Very Bad Day by mademoisellePlume, tim/kon & jason & lois, read the tags, 3.7k     You’d think drugging a half-Kryptonian into sleep would be half as easy as taking a full Kryptonian out of commission. But no, life couldn’t be that simple for Jason, could it? He watched Superboy stumble down the hallway in his pyjama pants, eyes half-lidded and sweating like Two-Face when a flipped coin balanced on its edge. ✦ Pandora's Other Box by FridaysChild, tim/kon & dick & bart & kate & ma kent, 2.5k     Prompt: "Kon and Tim identify as straight. After realising their mutual attraction, they both freak out in different ways."
BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Adoptions by Kannika, clark & conner & cast, 2.7k     Clark prepared for a lot of things, getting closer to Conner. This is not one of them. ✦ Aftershock by sElkieNight60, clark/lois & conner & jon, 13k wip     He knows this is awkward for Clark. It’s awkward for them both. They were gonna start slow. Warm up to each other. Maybe go apple-picking in the summer. A movie, a restaurant, bowling, or something. But a sleepover, really? That wasn’t going slow. ✦ IS IT JUST YOU AND ME IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE WORLD? by orpheusaki, clark & conner & bruce & diana & jason & cast, 2.2k     "You look happy, Kal." She's right, Clark is overjoyed. In between shopping for children's clothes with Lois (after she'd gotten over the shock of it all, which was surprisingly quick. Clark thinks Lois might prefer Conner to him now, not that he blames her for it) and wandering around the Fortress of Solitude with a small palm tucked into his own, Clark hasn't stopped grinning, "Superman is no longer the only Kryptonian alive." (Clark saves Conner from CADMUS as a child AU.)
BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ oh but if I could choose, I would choose not to feel by dizarys, bruce & dick & donna & cast, 1.4k     His eyes flicked over the long room, evaluating and searching. When he finally spotted him, Bruce’s heart plummeted. Dick Grayson was slouched at the crumb flecked bar counter, staring blankly into a barely touched pint with a hand twisted in his hair. Misery personified. ✦ batman by hellsreluctantheir, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 57.3k     Dick came back from a trip to space to a dead father figure, a grieving, guilty little brother, and a legacy waiting for him. Suddenly he's moving back to Gotham, playing Bat, trying to keep Jason from spiraling, trying to keep himself from spiraling, with the added bonus of a kid stalking him at the grocery store. It takes two years before things start to feel like they're getting better. Which is right about when the Red Hood comes to town. ✦ Day 3 - Nightmares (2.2) by fanfictiongreenirises, bruce & dick & tim, 3.3k     Bruce is resigned to the nightmares after their most recent kidnapping. But that doesn't mean they don't have an impact on him. ✦ My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes, dick & damian & tim & cast, 6.2k     Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece. ✦ Pale Reflections by BearlyWriting, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cast, 2.6k     ‘Bruce blinks again. A chill breeze brushes against him, searching for a way through his uniform. Concrete, Bruce tells himself, it’s concrete, not sand. It’s water, not blood. It’s Dick. And yet, he’s as still as Jason was then, as lifeless. Bruce moves without thinking. He isn’t thinking. His mind is utterly blank, a void in his head.’ ✦ love brought weight to this heart by dizarys, bruce & dick & john & mary & damian & duke, 1.9k     Of course Dick came by every time Haly’s was in town. But he loved when his family was able to join him. And now, with lights illuminating the big top, performers streaming into the ring with flashy costumes, and his family enthralled, Dick felt at peace. Both sides of his life were together. It should’ve been perfect. And looking back, he still wasn’t sure what pushed it off course. But it might have been the fire. ✦ what's in a name by envysparkler, bruce & dick & jason, 4.5k     Kidnappers strike at a gala and abduct two of Bruce Wayne’s sons. Or at least that’s what they think. ✦ I’m gambling with the sun (on which one of us dies young) by dizarys, dick & jason & donna & roy & tim & damian & cassandra & cast, 6.9k     The Justice League have been wiped from existence by Pariah, leaving Nightwing to once again navigate the death of Batman. But this time, even with his siblings and friends rallying around him, the cracks start to show ✦ (someone told me) love would all save us by YouAreTheBrightest234 (TransLucas), bruce & dick & tim, 1k     Dick is floating in an abyss of black. It is not peaceful, yet not malicious. It simply is. ✦ Slipping 998° by CKBookish, bruce & dick & tim & cast, 2.5k     When a house fire turns deadly Bruce wonders if he will be too late... again.
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omen-of-ice · 4 months
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DEMO || FAQ || PINTEREST
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The North has been all that you’ve known your whole life�� residing within its icy landscape as part of House Eirlys; Wardens of the North. You’ve never thought you’d one day leave to head south to Vela’thian— the kingdom of the elvhen— much less that you’d head there due to your betrothal with the king himself.
What will await you once you arrive? Is everything as it seems? Or is there something more brewing beneath the surface of the seemingly pristine nation?
Will you find your way back home? Or will you find something, or someone, worth staying for?
Let’s see how your story unfolds…
❄️ Play as the youngest heir to House Eirlys that’s been arranged to be married to the Elven King. Explore the wondrous world of Arlatha and the great elven nation of Vela’thian and its capital Ilyransari! You’ll meet a variety of characters, uncover plots (varying levels of angst), and potentially find love along the way! This game is rated 18+ for depictions of explicit language, alcohol consumption, potential sexual content, violence/blood, and death.
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❄️ Customizable MC: name, gender, appearance, sexuality, hobbies, and some skills. (You can choose to not be attracted to men and tell Daeron, the king, this, don’t worry.)
❄️ Bond with your Lycana— a winged wolf that’ll stay with you until death. Customizable: name, gender, and fur color.
❄️ Explore Ilyransari and learn more about the fantastical world of Arlatha!
❄️ Meet a variety of characters— from reclusive dwarves to hotheaded goblins— that’ll bring unique experiences throughout your story.
❄️ Learn more about your own shrouded past and how you came to be where you are now. Will the truth finally set you free?
❄️ Keep in contact with your older brother— Kaladin. He’ll want to know how you’re doing.
❄️ Romance one of characters from your potential betrothed himself— the Elven King— to an orc commander that takes everything a bit too literally or a creature from the depths of the Vesperion Sea. Or maybe someone else will catch your eye.
❄️ Remember, above all else, to have fun!
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Daeron [M] — The King — High Elf
The Elven King himself, a man known far and wide for his prowess in battle and resilience in the face of almost insurmountable odds. You’re not sure why he chose you to be his betrothed— after all he must have received hundreds of requests over the years— but you were instructed to not look a gift horse in the mouth; not when an ally like him would help your family and people immeasurably. With a hardened exterior, from years of battle and sacrifice, Daeron isn’t someone that’s easily accessible in the emotional sense, but you can’t help but notice how his eyes begin to soften every time you enter the room. Will something real begin to grow between you?
Daeron stands at around 6’3” (190.5 cm) with a warm beige complexion. Raven black hair falls across his forehead in gentle curls, a delicately crafted crown always situated atop them. His golden eyes, that seem to rival the sun in brilliance, are filled with a cunning intelligence; he has a toned physique, still holding a lithe quality that all elvhen seem to possess.
Larak [M] — The Commander — Orc
Seeing an Orc within Vela’thian is like seeing a starless night; it happens, but it doesn’t make it any less of an odd occurrence. Not after centuries of war between the Elven Nation and the Infernal Plains. Larak, however, seems to have taken his position in stride, ignoring all the looks he receives without a backward glance. After all, what is an orc to do without his clan? Especially one that was well on his way to becoming a chieftain of his own? Will you give him a reason to stay?
Larak stands at around 7’2” (218.44 cm) with a green complexion. Dark auburn locks are shaved on either side of his head, while the rest is kept in a long ponytail that falls down his back. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and brute strength— his most prominent feature, barring his sharp canines, being the twin scars running down his chest that pairs well with the one through his left eyebrow.
Calypso [F] — The Wanderer — Siren
The Vesperion Sea is an anomaly to most within Arlatha; for a creature from its watery depths to appear means one of two things. 1.) Something bad is about to happen. or 2.) It’s a pilgrimage of sorts that a few depth-striders take up every other decade. Meeting Calypso it’s easy to tell which one she is; her general amazement at the world around her being something that’d warm even the most hardened of hearts. With a desire to learn, and an aptitude to do so, she tries to take everything in stride, observing Vela’thian, and it’s inhabitants, with an ardent fervor that would be quite off putting in any other circumstance. Will you uncover things together?
Calypso stands at around 5’1” (154.94 cm) with a dark brown complexion— iridescent blue scales intercepting the expanse of it across her forearms, collarbone, and sparsely across her legs. The sea green of her gaze complements the deep royal blue of her hair beautifully— the voluminous curls falling down to just beneath her shoulders. She has an hourglass figure.
Shanaera [F] — The Spymaster — Dark Fae
The Royal Spymaster within Vela’thian, Shanaera is the longtime friend, and closest advisor, to Daeron. There isn’t much information about the early life of Shanaera— something she’s gone to great lengths to keep that way— and she’s rarely seen enough by the general populace to get a concrete opinion on. Keeping to the shadows, only appearing in court once in a blue moon, and with walls of ice surrounding her, it’s unsurprising why she has the reputation she does. A woman that’s just as deadly with her words as she is with any blade or poison— getting on her bad side isn’t a smart idea… But is it even possible to get on her good one?
Shanaera stands at around 5’11” (180.34 cm) with a sun-kissed complexion. Locks reminiscent of woven sunlight falls down to her hips in a cascade of gentle waves and soft curls— the strands bringing out the luminescent quality of her amethyst colored gaze. Grand wings of iridescent black are situated on her back, giving her elegantly slender body a broader appearance.
Fáelán [M/F] — The Best Friend — Wildling
You met Fáelán when you were ten years old during a winter ride with your family— something you had done dozens of times before— coming across their slight form underneath a snow drift, after your horse almost trampled them, wasn’t something you had been anticipating, but they haven’t left your side ever since. Not even when they had been offered an escort back to the village deep within The Thaeg; an ancient forest that covers over half of The North. You were best friends from that day onward— one never seen without the other. After all of that, should you truly be all that surprised when your self-appointed guard decides to come along to Vela’thian?
Fáelán stands at around 5’8” (172.72 cm) with a light gray complexion. Strands of hair, the color of which reminds you of freshly fallen snow, fall down to just beneath their shoulders in messy waves— usually kept in a intricate braid— pairs well with the deep crimson of their gaze. Their toned body is a far-cry from the scrawny individual they had been when you first met them— an intricate tattoo making a home on their right arm.
Valerian [M/F] — The Exiled Heir — Draconian
Tales of the land across the Vesperion Sea tell of the grand opulence of Edras— home of the draconian; dragon-kin. Valerian isn’t exactly who you’re expecting when imagining the royal family of Edras, but at the same time they seem to fit right in. With a smile that never reaches their eyes fully, a voice that never has to raise to be heard, and a presence that could command a legion, they bring a slew of questions and very little answers. Why were they cast out? Why are they in Vela’thian? And why do they seem to always find themself in your company? Will you be able to uncover any of these answers?
Valerian stands at around 6’6” (198.12 cm) with a fair complexion. Crystalline blue eyes seemingly burn with a fiery intensity— despite their icy coldness— which brings out the argent quality of their silver locks; M!Valerian keeping them down to his shoulders and F!Valerian keeping hers to her mid-back.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months
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faint || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you push yourself a little too hard before a big match.
all you had wanted was the opportunity to start in a big game. jonatan had played you as a starter in a few smaller matches, ones that he knew the team could handle with ease. with a few injuries, a spot had opened up that you knew you could fill. and so, you had begun coming in for extra training throughout the weeks leading up to jonatan picking his squad.
everybody had noticed the extra work you were putting in, but they didn't seem to realize the cost it had come at. lucy had been a little in her own head, so you couldn't blame her. besides, it wasn't like the two of you had reached the point in your relationship where you spent every single day together.
"are you ready?" you glanced up to see ingrid standing in front of you. the two of you had become fast friends when you joined barcelona. she had been a big part of you and lucy managing to get your shit together long enough to go on a few dates.
"i don't know if i'm ready, but i want this so badly. don't tell lucy, but i don't think i've wanted anything like this in a long time," you admitted. ingrid laughed, knowing that they weren't the same type of situation, but lucy would have definitely taken it as such. for as stoic as she liked to come off, you had learned firsthand how gentle lucy truly was.
once you were on the pitch, you tried your hardest to let go of your nerves. there was definitely still something off, but you were fairly certain that it wasn't nerves. you played better than you had in a long time, hopeful that a good showing today would lead to more starts for your club. you could feel your benchwarming days slipping away as you passed the ball to one of your teammates for an assist quickly followed by a goal of your own.
at the half, you felt utterly exhausted. your endurance was generally better than that. you tried your best to hide it as everybody went back out for the last 45 of the game. you didn't try moving around as much as you had before, but you still tried your best. many of your teammates were all sending you concerned looks, including lucy.
"hey, are you okay?" lucy asked as she noticed you swaying on your feet a little. it was a corner kick, and you were usually great at clearing these. you jumped up to head the ball away from your goal, and instead of landing on your feet like you usually did, you went straight to the ground. ingrid and lucy were on your sides instantly to check on you, only to see that you were unconscious.
"what happened? did she hit her head?" ingrid asked the surrounding players. nobody had any sort of real answer for it, which was only causing lucy to panic even more. she had never seen anyone go down like that, not without cause.
"luce," you said weakly. she looked down at you at the first sign of you waking up again.
"what is it love?" lucy asked softly. she brushed her hand over your head as she cradled it in her arms.
"can you move a little? your boot is hurting me," you chuckled lightly. lucy immediately shifted around a bit so that you were more comfortable. despite your claims that you were fine, everybody was insistent that you sub out and go down to the trainer's to rest. they made you lay down and take sips from an electrolyte drink. you were supposed to have taken a bit of a nap, but you couldn't sleep wondering whether or not the game was going well without you.
you wanted to go to the bench at the very least, but the trainers kept you in the cool, air conditioned room. it wasn't until some of the color had returned to your face and you were truly speaking clearly that they let you go back to the locker room. you had a late start showering and changing, but lucy was more than happy to wait for you. she had been ready to go whenever you initially walked in, but she was still standing there when you came out to get your things.
"can i carry your bag for you?" lucy asked. she was a great girlfriend, but she had never asked to carry your bag before. a part of you felt like you were a teenager in school again with your old boyfriend, but lucy was a trillion times better than he could ever be.
"you don't even like carrying your own bag most of the time," you teased. the small smile on lucy's face fell to be briefly replaced by a small pout. you handed your bag over for her to take before you took her free hand. "it means a lot that you're here for me."
"i'd be a pretty shit girlfriend if i wasn't," lucy pointed out. still, you knew that she wasn't just doing it because she felt like she had to.
"you've come a long way from who you were when we started seeing each other. i'm proud of you, luce," you told her. lucy blushed and tried to turn away from you, but there wasn't anywhere for her to go. you pressed a kiss to her cheek, deciding to leave things there for the time being. you could get sappy and make her blush later whenever she was trying to take care of you at her place.
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privitivium · 2 months
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hnnn... fellers liked the first one and it gives me reason enough to post a second part. these r just rambles...... sorry for any mistakes. p1
dombot amab bossy gangster x subtop amab m reader :3
cw; stalking - "yandere-ish" ?!! dubcon
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his jealousy knows no bounds. dude constantly keeping a guy on you, if not himselfㅡand today, all you want to do is arts and crafts for fun on your day off... when you should've been calling him up instead! he can't believe the audacity, really. immediately hopping in his vinatage old car and hauling ass to the address he was given by his lackey tagging you, showing up just to see you being all chummy with some nobody-? augh!!
at first, he was irritated with how frightful you were... "stop being scared of me, i love you!" he'd shake you, eyes wide and looking like a madman before rubbing yr dicks together... so happy when its clear ur becoming accustomed to him... playing on your phone and seeing that someone you regularly play with is with someone else. you admit you're a little jealous, yes.. but it's quickly ruined by your hulking freak of a lover. so upset and childish.
ㅡ"you're only allowed to be jealous if i'm part of the reason!" he snapped, tugging your phone from your hands and exiting the game you were on. really? seriously? you were just a bit upset your usual duo wasn't online in some coloring game, it isn't that big of a deal... but yeah, sure babe. who are you to deny him again? as he sucks you off? you don't think you have the clearance to deny such a dangerous figure of anything. i mean, him making several copies of your apartment key - following you around or having you followed - told what to do most of the time? - you don't want to think about if he actually has cameras in your place or not, but it wouldn't be surprising. constantly nervous in the comfort of your own home... ugh.
"who's this guy? he bothering you?" "coming" to your rescue. you were negatively surprised to see him because how did he know where the fuck to find you? on this busy ass strip of shops and he so happens to be passing by and see you amongst the crowds? you wouldnt be surprised if there was a fucking tracker in your shoulderㅡ"i mean, i couldve been doing this with you... who even is this guy?" he gestures to the employee who was merely bringing you more trinkets for reference... smelling the insecurity and jealousy from your cornerㅡthere was really no reason to be so damn jealous nor insecure...
he's in love with you and how can you not love that? having some big ass dude who is a sort of danger to the public saying youre his fated one to be and treating you all nice and fucking you real good? ... no, honey, you arent flirting with this poor worker just trying to do his job, stalker..
"sorry, i ah... got busy." that seemed to be your go to excuse, huh?? he won't take it anymore - he won't!! however, begrudgingly sitting, enjoying your presence and letting you finish whatever fuckass thing you were creating... - "oh, is this for me?" breaking your concentration as he plucks the object from your hands - words dying on your lips at his glowering expression he shoots you. "that's sweet of you. it's finished you say? we'll lets get a move on..." he was pulling you up and tugging you out the door - practically throwing you in the passenger of his car with yr little trinket in hand.. jeez, was it really that bad that you wanted a bit of time to your self? still not understanding that your world is going to revolve strictly around his - no friends you hear?! he's all the friend and boyfriendㅡ girlfriendㅡhusband you need!!
apologizing with a soft, "sorry honey, thats my bad mhm." yes it is your bad. but hes not one to hold grudges against his fated one to be, obviously. who could stay mad at their fated lover... right. this guy, just a delusional freak you were genuinely too scared to stand up to. i mean... he was great in some aspects... a great protector... a great fuckhole... but sometimes he gets too suffocating..
ㅡand who is there for you when you happen to get sick... threatening your job to put you on paid leave for a few days, so nice of him, right? commend him while he pets you. like awh babe ur so sad and pathetic c'mere and let me feed you this canned soup babe. babe c'mon, c'mere. come here, babe.
ending up with him groping at your soft cock through your sweatpants... and you struggling to get away. weaky pushing against him, being held against his fat pecs - muscular arm slung over your abdomen to keep you still - your head is faintly hurting and he's touching your dick?? augh... but god the way he's so gentle and whispering sweet-nothings into your ear.. but it's like.. babe... get me water. but you can't tell him that, that you need hydration. too caught up in mutely whimpering with your head tilted back against his shoulder and lips parted - he should know how bad ur feeling, you were just complaining - "it hurts... augh.. ugh.." but babe! he wants to show you how much he loves you through what he knows best - showering you in affectionㅡ! it's okay, shhh... you'll feel so much better, i promise. aren't you going to believe me? babe you know i tell you the truth, always and forever.
man... how about gangster dude catching you jerking it and pulling you in missionary just to wrap his thick ass legs around your hips to fuck you into him. have this oral instead. him lurking around your place but not yet entering... before he finally does, kicking off his shoes and hanging his coat like he owns the place and looking around for you - expecting you to be asleep in your bed since all the lights were out but he couldn't quite see in through the windows?!?! catching you while touching yourself, rather enveloped in whatever the fuck was playing on your phone... what a sight for him to see! how ... lovely. you must've been expecting him, huh? no time to be surprised - no time to cover yourself. you do, weakly covering your leaky prick with your hands after tossing your phone to the side, calling out his name in surprise. what r u surprised for silly... we both know you've been waiting for me! i mean, haven't even come yet. you were waiting for me... almost bashful as he dips in between your legs, hugging you into him and tonguing at the head of yr cock just to have you a shivering trembling mess. it's his favorite! to make you cry from pleasure and then ride your still-hard prick... making sure not to crush you... so thoughtful
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darby-rowe · 4 months
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18+ | nsfw | mdni young!sub!coriolanus snow x fem!dom!reader cw sub coryo, reader in lingerie, slight degradation & humiliation, mommy kink, premature ejaculation, not proofread based on this ask. -- hope you like it, anon!
“And here’s the third set I bought,” you say as you re-enter the bedroom, wearing a baby-pink lingerie set adorned with tiny bows and ribbons. You stand in front of Coriolanus, showing off your body in ways that you know will make him tick. You witness in real time his control slipping away, as prior to your little fashion show, you had ordered Coryo to not touch you nor himself under any circumstance. You have to suppress a smirk as you watch him grip the bed sheets, his mind switching between spreading his legs or crossing his legs, as either position brought him great discomfort.
You twirl for him, revealing how the lingerie set hugged the contours of your body so perfectly. “What do you think, honey?” you ask, your voice dripping with innocence as if you have no idea of the effect your body had on Coriolanus.
But you know. You know damn well.
Coriolanus swallows hard. “You look wonderful,” he chokes out, fidgeting on the bed. “That’s a very pretty color on you, my dear. You have quite the eye for… l-lingerie,”
You beam at him. “Why thank you! I definitely think my boobs look the best in this set, don’t you think?” You cup your breasts and lean forward so Coriolanus could fully view their shape. You know exactly what you’re doing.
You can tell that Coriolanus is close to losing his composure, letting your eyes flick down to his crotch to marvel at the outline of his painfully hard erection. You hum with delight as you knead at your breasts to prolong Coriolanus’s agony. “Don’t my boobs just look sooo good, baby? You wanna touch ‘em real quick?”
Coriolanus’s legs twitch as a shaky hand slowly advances towards your breasts, which you obviously swat away with a giggle. “You really thought I was gonna let you touch my tits?” you tut. “No baby. Not right now,”
Coriolanus begins to pant, his mind going dumb with desperation. “Please,” he whines. “Please let me touch you,”
You stand back up, folding your hands behind your back so your chest pops out fully. “Please what, baby? Please what?”
He swallows hard once more, his breath shaky. “Please… mommy, p-please let me touch you. I need to touch you, mommy,”
Aw, what a pathetic, needy little boy Coriolanus is. The way his body trembles – so jittery – at the thought of touching you; running his hands all over your body, cupping your breasts and ass, running his tongue down your pelvis to your soaking wet folds, and then finally pumping his cock so deep inside your cunt that your cervix is sore for days. And you are denying him of that fantasy just because you find it fun.
“I have one more set to show you, baby – just be patient,” you coo as you leave the bedroom to change your lingerie. You then re-enter wearing a maroon-colored set, complete with a thong, stockings, and a bra that barely covers your breasts.
Coriolanus looks like he’s about to lose his fucking mind. You were so sexy, so fuckable, and all he wanted to do was bury his aching hard dick deep inside your tight cunt. You make sure to go extra slow this time with showing off the lingerie, hearing how Coriolanus’s panting turns to frustrated grunts and whimpers. You mold your hands against the contours of your body, running them up your sides and over your breasts.
“How’s this one, bunny?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
“Mmmng, fuck, mommy I can’t take it,” Coriolanus whimpers, his legs fidgeting as he tries to deal with the throbbing in between his legs. “Wanna– wanna fuck you so hard, and come all over your lingerie,”
You blow air out of your mouth in a half-chuckle. “You must be losing your mind if you think for one second that I’m letting you blow your load all over this set. This wasn’t cheap,”
“Sorry,” he stutters, his hips making small circles. “Mommy, it hurts. My cock hurts. So hard,”
You place your hands on the bed as you lean in close towards his face, staring him deep in his pretty blue eyes. “You have no idea how hot it is that you get so hard just from staring at me,” you purr, and you swear you could feel the heat of his arousal emitting from between his legs. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Mommy’s pretty little bunny, just squirming and whining because his dick is so hard. I bet you’d love it if you could bury your cock deep inside my warm, wet, tight cunt,”
Coriolanus just whines. “Mommy, please…”
“Please what?”
“Please let me fuck you,” his voice comes out in tiny whimpers. You swear he’s on the verge of tears, his panting growing quicker. “I wanna fuck your pussy. Feel you squeezing on my cock. Please, please, I wanna fuck you, mommy. I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you…!”
It’s almost as if you don’t have to put in any effort in this relationship at all as you watch Coriolanus buck his hips and mewl pathetically as a wet spot appears on his pants, and the sight of him giving into his dirty thoughts is so fucking hot.
“Aww, baby,” you coo, tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear. You place a soft kiss on his forehead. “You’ll get to fuck me next time, I promise,”
don't be shy, let's talk. ♡
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wheresarizona · 2 months
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Learning to Live Part 31
summary: Mondays are Javier’s least favorite day. Add in he has a meeting he’s doing as a favor to the Sheriff that he doesn’t want to do, and the day was destined to be shitty. But things take a turn for the better that morning when he gets a text message from his fiancée that reads: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña (not at you), Switch Javier Peña (there’s subby Javi as a treat). first smut: masturbation (f), vibrators, accidental voyeurism, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, **BREEDING** (an actual attempt at babymaking). second smut: dry humping, coming in pants, semi-public sex? (it happens in a hospital). in both: dirty talk, praise | discussion of pregnancy, dysfunctional family, insults, yelling, arguing, angst with a happy ending, Javier meets your parents for the first time, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional hurt/comfort, Javier going off)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)
word count: 16k
a/n: The dirty talk in this one makes me 🫠🫠🫠. This chapter is something a lot of people have been waiting for. Thank you to everyone who comments and reblogs! I try to reply to them all, and if I miss any, it’s not on purpose and I’m sorry! The love so many people have for this silly story of mine makes me literally 😭😭😭. So, THANK YOU. We’ve got about nine chapters left after this one (could become more). Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for giving this a look over and ensuring my Spanish is correct. I love you.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The New Year started with Javier’s big hands caressing your face as he kissed you, the Times Square ball having dropped on the nearby television in your best friend’s living room, where you were attending a party. He had tasted like cherry and orange jello from the Tequila Sunrise jello shot you convinced him to take with you a minute before midnight and smelled like his spicy cologne; the familiar scent had made you feel warm and safe—it had made you feel at home.
Javier Peña was your home.
He was your always and forever, the sun shining after it rained, a warm, cozy blanket on a cold day, the bright star that guides you through the darkness, and the greatest love you would ever have.
And he belonged to you as you belonged to him.
The New Year started with a kiss—one full of promises for the months ahead and shared hopes and dreams; your lips pressed together and moving in sync, silently proclaiming to the other your insurmountable love and undying devotion. And when it had ended, you wore matching grins, Javi's cheeks tinted in a lovely pink flush, his perfect full lips glistening under the room's lights from saliva while his beautiful chocolate-colored eyes gazed tenderly into yours, and he said, "Happy New Year, Cielito. I know it's gonna be a great fucking year because I have you—my best friend, the love of my life, and in ten days, my wife.”
Monday, January 4, started like any other Monday—the alarm going off and your fiancé hitting the snooze button so he could pull you into his arms and get nine minutes of uninterrupted cuddling in before the incessant beeping went off again. When your time was up, he sometimes, like this morning, grumbled as he moved to turn it off, "Fucking hate Mondays." This was why his coffee mug had Garfield the cat on it with a speech bubble containing the same sentiment, just without the cursing, but let’s be real, if that orange cartoon cat wasn’t censored, he’d absolutely say ‘fuck.’
In December, Javier’s prima (cousin) Alma—his tío’s (uncle’s) daughter and sister to Sebastián—was home from college and introduced you to something the kids had started doing: texting. You found this new form of communication came in handy when you were busy and didn’t have time to talk, like right this second as you stood in a storage room at work an hour into your shift with a bag of saline in your hand, your cell phone in the other sending Javi a message.
Your thumb punched the numbers on the keypad, typing: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
The phone went back into your scrub pants pocket, and you started grabbing the other supplies you needed from the shelves. Seconds later, ringing sounded, making you sigh and have to juggle what you held into one arm to fish your cell phone out again, seeing he was calling from his office phone. You pressed the accept button, the device going to your ear as you answered in exasperation, “Why do you always call instead of texting back?”
“Because talking is easier than trying to type shit out with the keypad,” Javier replied. “Why do you send messages when you know I’m just going to call you?”
“My naive hope that you’ll get I’m too busy to talk.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick—is this a regular lunch quickie, or is it finally time…?” He sounded hopeful.
“With how I’m feeling a little crampy and insanely horny this morning, I’m pretty sure it’s time—like, the horniness is bad enough there’s no way I can wait until work is over.”
There was noticeable excitement in his voice. “Apartment or truck?”
As tempting as the truck was, you weren’t in the mood for the risk.
“Home.”
“Got it, and why is there extra punctuation after the question? Is it code or something? Should I know what it means?”
“Turn the phone sideways, and it looks like a winking face—I was trying to be flirty and cute with my request for dick.”
“Huh, I guess it does kinda look like a face…”
“I have to get back to work, babe. We’re meeting at home on lunch for you to fuck my brains out, got it?”
“Yes, Cielito—home on lunch to fuck a baby into you.”
“Perfect. Love you, bye.”
“Love you, too. Bye, mi amor (my love).”
The device was put away, and you double-checked you got everything you needed for the new patient who’d just been brought to your department to recover from surgery. While in the patient’s room setting up their IV, you felt your pocket vibrate. After ensuring your new occupant was comfortable and not in need of anything, you left the room, looking at your phone as you walked down the hall and finding you had an unread text from Javi that you opened:
I love you and im excited for lunch ;)
It made you smile, and you replied back: Love u too. cant wait to see u <3
A few minutes after getting back to work, you felt the vibration of another message from him that ended up containing a question: What does <3 mean?
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Robyn got a rushed 'See you in an hour' as you left for lunch in a hurry.
You didn't have road rage—it was more road annoyance when people were driving below the speed limit, didn't go as soon as the light turned green, or cut you off like that asshole who worked over at the hardware store did; what was his name? Jimmy? Jerry? Terry? It didn’t matter; he got a raised middle finger. When you pulled into your parking space at the apartment complex, Javi's spot beside yours was empty, and you booked it inside, kicking off your shoes once you got through the door, throwing your purse onto the console table in the entryway, along with your keys.
The thought of leaving the front door unlocked for Javi was squashed almost immediately with the reminder of him telling you always to keep it locked when he wasn't home—so you locked it, the deadbolt turning with a click.
When you told him you were insanely horny, it wasn’t an exaggeration—the horniness had your heartbeat pulsating in your cunt and made the scrubs you were wearing feel stifling over your heated skin, needing them off as soon as possible; your mind was consumed with all of the dirty things Javi could do to ease the ache between your legs—his thick fingers pushing into you and crooking them to hit that one spot only he could reach; his hips pounding into you from behind while rubbing your clit just right to make you come around him; his talented tongue and mouth working you over, licking and sucking on your wet heat with the finesse of a man devouring his first meal in weeks; his cock fucking into you nice and slow, feeling the stretch you couldn’t replicate with your fingers or a toy.
All those thoughts had you wanting Javier with every fiber of your being, and each passing second he wasn’t there was driving you crazy.
Walking toward the bedroom, you removed your clothes as you went, shimmying out of your pants, pushing down and off your panties, your blue scrub shirt getting tugged over your head next, followed by your white tank top, and finally, upon entering the room, your bra was unsnapped, and gravity took it to the floor, leaving behind a trail of garments that’d lead your fiancé to you buck naked and wanting.
You crawled onto the bed Javi had made that morning, the navy blue duvet decorated in golden suns, moons, and bright white stars. The burning ache at the apex of your thighs was begging to be assuaged by any means necessary, and with the absence of the person you wanted more than anything, it was up to you to take off the edge until he arrived.
Pulling open your bedside table drawer, you got out your small bullet vibrator and got comfortable lying down with your head on a pillow and slightly spreading your legs—cold air hit the slick-coated skin on your inner thighs and the lips of your sex, making you shiver. The toy hummed to life with the click of a button, your eyes closing as you slid it along your wet folds, the thrumming igniting sparks of arousal in your belly. You were imagining Javi on top of you, his hips pinning you to the mattress with his dick buried inside you, thrusting deep while his tongue was in your mouth—your jaw went slack, and your spine stiffened when you circled the vibe around your swollen clit, the sharp bolt of pleasure shooting to your core causing you to gasp.
The excitement in your pelvis was growing, moving the waves of vibrations side to side over your sensitive nub, fanning the flames of arousal in your center. You were so turned on your orgasm was building quickly, your nipples tightening, the heat in your abdomen spreading out from your groin, and getting hotter by the second. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead, your thighs shaking as you envisioned Javier fucking you.
“Javi,” you moaned.
“I’m here, baby,” came his deep rasp. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, jolting in surprise.
He was standing at the end of the bed in his charcoal grey suit pants and a white dress shirt gaping at the neck from the three or so buttons he’d undone. His jacket and the red-patterned tie he’d left for work wearing were nowhere to be seen—there was a noticeable bulge at the front of his slacks, his pupils blown wide, his hungry gaze feasting on you spread out in front of him while he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the golden skin of his forearms, the overhead light glinting off of the face of the silver Rolex watch on his wrist you’d gotten him for Christmas.
Seeing him there in the flesh had such a strong spike of arousal cutting through you that you were unable to stop your desperate moan of his name. “I need you,” you whined, lifting the vibrator from yourself and turning it off in preference of having him instead. “I need you to fuck me—right now, Javier.”
His big hand was stroking over his straining length beneath his pants, his eyes locked on your glistening center. He licked his lips like he was imagining what you’d taste like. “You weren’t lying about being insanely horny, Cielito,” he said, not moving his gaze from between your thighs. “Look at how wet you are—how needy your pussy is for me. You want my dick, hermosa (beautiful)? You want my come?”
“Yes,” you answered, nodding your head.
“You can have it, Cielito.” You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you toward him to have your ass at the edge of the mattress. “—in a minute,” he continued and dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
He eagerly dove in, running the flat of his tongue through your slit to gather your wetness with an appreciative hum. It felt so good, your lip was pulled between your teeth, and your fingers curled into his hair, moaning as he lapped at your cunt.
The tip of his beautiful nose rubbed your clit with every drag of his plush mouth along your pussy, causing shocks of electricity to course through your wet core, your eyes rolling back, and the pleasure building inside you. His groans were vibrating against your sensitive skin, his tongue dipping into your opening before moving up to tease your bundle of nerves—flicking at it side to side, over and over again.
Your fists tightened in his hair. “Javi,” you whimpered. “God, it’s so good.”
There was something about someone enthusiastically going down on you that made the act a million times better—your past boyfriends would only do it if you asked, or they felt they had to because you gave them a blow job. But Javier? This man wanted to eat you out. He craved your taste; he loved getting you off with his mouth. You were pretty sure if he could, he’d live with his face shoved in your cunt, and you loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself; his moans making it sound like you were the one pleasuring him.
The horniness and using the vibrator had you so worked up that adding in Javi eating your pussy like it was his favorite meal had you cresting in hardly any time at all—your insides knotting up, winding tighter and tighter until the tension shattered and you came with a gasp of his name, relishing the euphoria that washed over you. His tongue went down to your entrance, licking up every bit of your release he could get, not missing a single drop.
The orgasm was nice, but it was more of an appetizer—it got you into the mood and even more excited for the main course that was getting his cock inside you so you’d finally be relieved of the aching emptiness in your core.
You let go of his hair, your words coming out hoarse, “Can I have your dick now?”
He let your legs fall off his shoulders and rose with a crooked grin, his mustache and the bottom half of his face wet with your juices. He started undoing his belt. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he said, popping open the button on his slacks and pulling down the zipper. “I wanted to make sure I got you off first.” He shoved the pants and white boxer briefs down his legs, his cock springing free under the hem of his dress shirt.
Sitting up on your elbows, you smiled at him. “A gentleman,” you replied with a wink. “I’ll take it you’re unbelievably excited about possibly getting me pregnant, and you don’t think you’ll be able to last? Which, no shame—it flatters me when you’re so jazzed about fucking me you bust a nut sooner than you wanted.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m excited.” He looked down, lifting the bottom of his shirt with one hand and spitting onto the fingers of the other, using them to slick up his throbbing length and making it shine in the lights of the room. “I’m really fucking excited.” He hooked his left arm under your knee and pulled you a little closer as he stepped forward with his dick in his right hand, pumping it a couple of times and pressing the tip to your soaked hole. “I love you,” the last word devolved into a groan as he pushed forward, sliding all the way home inside your cunt until he was balls deep.
The moment he breached your entrance, your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch your tight walls had to make for him to fit; your breaths went ragged, and your fingers clutched the duvet at the fullness. This was what you wanted. This was what you needed, feeling him so deep inside you that you were sure if he went any deeper, he’d nudge your spleen.
Your eyes had closed, and you fell back, the first sound escaping your lips coming out as a trembling whisper of his name. Javi went completely still for some seconds to calm himself down before he got his arms under each of your knees to spread you wide.
His voice was huskier when he spoke. “This what you needed, mi amor?” he asked. “My cock? Need me to fill this perfect pussy with my come? Need me to fuck it so deep I get you pregnant?”
“Yes,” you moaned.
“I’ll make you a mother, Cielito,” he said in a sure tone.
That statement had you clenching around him, Javi hissing. He audibly swallowed.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “It’s fucking embarrassing how close I am.”
You huffed in amusement, your mouth dry and sweat forming on your brow. “You riled yourself up while riling me up—you played yourself.”
“Don’t give me shit.”
Opening your eyes, his broad figure was looming over you with a grumpy look on his perfect face, his dark eyes on yours.
“I’m not giving you shit, Javi,” you said. “I love it—now, hurry up and fuck me, so we’ll be parents in nine months.”
That seemed to kick him into gear, Javi pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in hard enough to push the air from your lungs, setting up a hard, fast pace that had your mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ He was pounding into you, grunting with each thrust, and stuttering your moans—it was so amazing, arousal was seeping from your cunt and down his shaft, hearing him working his dick in and out of your sopping hole and the harsh slap of his balls against your skin.
Heat was growing at the base of your spine, your thoughts consumed with how good he was fucking you and the fact there was a chance he could knock you up—that alone had you speeding toward another orgasm.
Ever since the first time Javier told you he loved you, his preference in sex positions had changed—before, it was backshots, railing you from behind to the point he had you incoherent and drooling. Now, it was anything face to face for the intimacy and wanting to kiss you, which was so unbelievably sweet.
A newer development that you’d noticed not too long ago was he liked having access to your breasts—he was still an ass man, but there’d been an uptick in titty action, like at this moment with him wrapping your legs around his waist so he could lean down to suck your nipple between his lips while he palmed your other breast, his hips never waning from their brutal onslaught.
His tongue laved at your stiff peak, sucking and licking it and causing lightning to shoot straight to your core, the volume of your moans increasing. The hot pleasure curling in your gut made you move your hands into his hair, your legs squeezed tight around his hips.
His cock was pushing in and out of you, filling you over and over again, his mouth moving to your other nipple to give it the same attention while his fingers pinched and rolled the first—he had your pussy weeping for him, your slick escaping where you were joined, dripping down between your asscheeks as he fucked you into the mattress.
You were almost there. The muscles in your stomach were tensing in preparation for your release.
You wanted to kiss, and he got the message when you pulled his head up by the hair, his lips smashing against yours, holding his weight on his arms beside your head. The kiss was messy, with your tongues tangling and teeth clattering, sharing breaths, his body taking up your vision. You were lost in it all and all of him, Javier becoming the only thing you could think about, the two of you in your own little world, where nothing else mattered except each other.
When you needed air, your mouth blazed a sloppy trail of kisses along his jaw to his neck, his breathing getting shallower and rhythm jerky, knowing he was close—you sucked on the taut skin of his throat hard enough to leave a mark, and it made him whine, the sound going straight to your cunt.
“I’m gonna come inside you,” he said in a breathy rumble, the deep timbre of his voice making your scalp tingle. “I’m gonna—shit—I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.” It was your turn to whine. “I’m gonna fill you up, keep you stuffed until it—fuck—until it takes.” He sounded totally and completely wrecked.
Your words were muffled into his neck, “Y-Yes, Javi—give it to me. Fuck a baby into me.”
“I wanna,” he groaned, “I wanna see you pregnant with my child.” He wasn’t going to last much longer; his strokes were getting sloppier, and he’d hit the point of being so close that he rambled. “I wanna see your body change—your tits get bigger with milk.” His dick twitched hard inside you. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful—fuck—so fucking beautiful carrying my baby.” He was panting. “I love you so much—please don’t leave—please don’t ever leave me.”
You grabbed his cheeks and passionately kissed him, saying into his lips, “I’m never gonna leave you—I love you—I love you,” you repeated with more emphasis. “I’m yours—I’ll always be yours. Put a baby in me, Javi—fuck your come deep.”
That did him in.
His groan was ragged as he broke the kiss to shove his face into your neck—his teeth were bared, his hot breaths fanning against your skin, his pace going frantic.
“Yes, yes, yes,” was gasped from your lips, chanting the word like a prayer. “Come in me,” you practically beg.
His hips bucked into you one last time, pushing his cock in as deep as it could go inside you, feeling it thicken and jerk as he came, gushing inside you with a rumbling moan. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the pleasurable pain making you gasp, feeling the hot flood of his come painting your insides. His hips were rolling to fuck it deeper, catching you off guard when he suddenly shifted his weight onto one arm to shove his other hand down between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit.
There was a quivering in your belly, a quaking that spread out to make your arms and legs tremble, his fingers circling, stroking, over and over again.
“Come for me,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me have it.”
You hit your tipping point, falling over the edge with an unintelligible cry—the surge of pleasure that bursted from your core had your hips jerking and your pussy spasming around him, Javi’s head falling against your shoulder with a strangled groan of good girl because you were squeezing him like a vice.
Now, this was one of those orgasms that consumed your entire being, taking you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but an incoherent, blissed-out puddle of a person who couldn’t even remember their own name.
A body slumped onto you, welcoming the familiar weight, the only sounds in the room being the hum of the air conditioning and panted breaths of the two inhabitants. It was reflex that had your fingers pressing into his slightly sweat-damp hair and rubbing your fingertips along his scalp—he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat.
Seconds pass, then some minutes, it was Javi who spoke first, grumbling with his face now in the crook of your neck, “I don’t wanna go back to fucking work.”
The reminder that your workday wasn’t over made you whine ‘No’ dramatically.
His hand, not above your head, rubbed along your ribs. “I know, baby—it’s shitty.”
“Why did we think a lunch quickie was a good idea?”
“Was there any thinking…?” he questioned.
“God, you’re so right. We suspected I was ovulating and immediately jumped to ‘We need to fuck right now.’ Zero planning whatsoever. An error was made when we assumed it’d be like our usual sexy lunchtime shenanigans.”
He hummed in agreement. “Was it better than normal for you, too…?”
“Um, yes—apparently, actual babymaking sex is another level of amazing.”
“It really is.” He held up his wrist so you could look at his watch. “How much time do we have?”
“Not enough for you to shower or either of us to eat—we probably should’ve gotten up like five minutes ago.”
“Fuck,” he said. Javi groaned as he pushed himself up to stand, a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled himself out of you.
Sitting up on your elbows, his attention was focused on the swollen lips between your thighs, his come starting to dribble from your used hole. You spread your legs a little wider for him to get a better look.
“So fucking pretty,” he mused, his hand moving without a second thought to catch his leaking spend on two fingers and press it back inside you. “Not letting a drop go to waste, mi amor.” His eyes met yours, laying his free hand low on your belly over your womb. He smiled. “A couple of weeks from now, you could be pregnant.”
You shared his happy expression. “We are going to fuck so much that your dick is going to hurt by the end of this week—might even get chafed.”
He grimaced. “Why are you excited about that?”
Reaching, you pressed a palm to his cheek. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll ice it for you.”
“That doesn’t make it any better…”
“It’s a sacrifice we must make to knock me up.”
He pulled his fingers out. “Sacrifice we have to make? I’m the one making the sacrifice…”
Your eyebrow lifted. “Okay, and what about the sacrifice I have to make with my body growing a tiny human from practically nothing, sharing said body with them for nine months, then having to go through probably the most excruciating pain of my entire life to push them out of my vagina, Javier? Still think you’re the only one making a sacrifice by being uncomfortable for a couple of days after contributing your pleasurable 1% to our group project, that I will be doing 99% of the work on?”
His eyes had rounded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “I’m fine with the dick discomfort—I’m sorry, cariño (sweetheart).” He rubbed your bicep with his clean hand. “Can I get you some water?” He checked his watch. “Fuck it, I’ll go back to the office late. I don’t have a meeting for another half an hour anyway—I’m gonna make you lunch to take to work.” He bent to pull up his underwear and slacks he didn’t bother buttoning up and leaned to give you a quick kiss. “I just need to wash up real fast—I love you. Thank you.” He pecked you on the lips again.
“I love you, too—you don’t have to make me food,” you said as he retreated to the bathroom. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I know you’re not mad,” he replied over his shoulder, “but I’m still making my wife and the future mother of my children food because I love her and appreciate everything she does for me.”
You gasped in pretend shock. “You’re married?!” you exclaimed. “I’m sleeping with a married man?!”
He stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned your way with a look that said he was done with your shit, and it made you grin.
“You will be in seven days,” he replied.
You got up from the mattress on shaky legs, walking toward him.
“Does your wife know that?”
“Cielito?”
“Yes, Javier?”
“I’m fucking you in seven days—mark it on your calendar.”
That made you giggle. “If I scheduled all the times we fuck, there wouldn’t be any empty days on the calendar.”
You were close to him.
“Probably.” He shrugged. “But next Monday is special.”
“Is that so?” you asked, finally in his space and wrapping your arms around his shirt-covered middle. He hugged you back, looking you in the eyes with a smile.
“Yeah,” he answered, “‘cause it’ll be the first time I fuck you as my lawfully wedded wife.”
“Should I expect sex to be different as Mrs. Javier Peña?”
He nodded. “It’ll be better.”
And before the lunch quickie, you’d just had, you would’ve told him that was impossible. However, now, you thought he was right; that as your relationship continued to grow and evolve, so would you both, and it’d affect something like your sex life, hopefully, positively as each year passed. It felt like you won the lottery that this kind, sweet, caring, respectful, incredible man loved you and would no doubt ensure sex with him was nothing less than spectacular.
“Well, Mr. Peña, I’m excited for you to make an honest woman out of me.”
His head moved, hovering his lips over yours, feeling his breath as he spoke in a low husk, “I’m excited to be your husband and share my last name with you, Mrs. Peña—I love you.”
“I love you, too—kiss me,” you whispered.
He nudged his nose against yours. “As you wish, mi amor—I promise to kiss you every day for as long as I live.” He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you tenderly.
Robyn was going to give you so much shit for returning to work late…
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Javier didn’t mind Mondays when he was in Colombia.
To be honest, during his first stint trying to get Pablo Escobar, he was working so much his days blended together, and he didn’t know the date until he looked at a calendar in the office or Steve told him. As attaché, Mondays were the start of his week, and if he happened to have Sunday or the whole weekend off, he was still doing work at home and couldn’t wait to get back to the office—Monday mornings were used to plan out and go over his week’s schedule with his staff, the rest of the day he attended required meetings and when he had time, assessing where they were at in their operation and strategizing next steps.
He’d been too consumed with his job to take a break or relax over the weekend. it wasn’t something he would’ve wanted to do anyway because it’d mean he’d be alone with his thoughts, and who’d want that? Thinking about all of the mistakes he’d made, how much he fucked up and let his family down, mulling over how alone and miserable he felt—obsessing about his work meant there wasn’t time to think about those things, so Mondays were always welcome.
His life had changed since then.
Drastically.
Now, he looked forward to the weekend.
It meant a full forty-eight hours he got to spend with the most amazing woman he loved more than anything. It was forty-eight hours full of love, happiness, and contentment. He could actually relax with her, let his guard down, and just be himself.
The weekend was sacred, and he hated waking up on Monday morning, knowing he'd have to be away from his media naranja (soulmate) for at least forty hours over the next five days.
It was safe to say that Javier wasn't the jolliest of people when the alarm clock went off at the start of the week; it was such a common occurrence Cielito often compared him to Garfield, the cat.
He felt he'd done some good work since starting at the Sheriff's office a while back. The narcotics unit, he advised, had managed to do double the busts and arrests than the previous year, the DEA practically frothing at the mouth over the amount of drugs, weapons, and dirty money they’d seized. The agent in charge of their region, who he’d previously butted heads with, had even commended him on their last call. His notoriety was known enough he’d lost count of how many offers he'd gotten to do lectures and the number of agencies in Texas and across the country who had tried to poach him at most or get him to do short-term freelance consulting at minimum.
Basically, there were a lot of people who wanted to pick his brain and/or talk about his time with the DEA.
His, was it, popularity? In the drug enforcement circles and public knowledge of his efforts in Colombia had led to an interesting phenomenon, the Sheriff loved and Javier hated. Philanthropists, sometimes businesses, a lot of the times just individuals, many of whom weren’t even from the area, wanted to donate decent sums of money to the various anti-drug and addiction treatment programs the Sheriff's office and county, in general, ran with the caveat of discussing where their money was going with someone who fought in the War on Drugs.
Him.
Most of the time when he met with these 'philanthropists,' they just wanted to hear stories about Pablo Escobar and the Cali cartel that weren't reported in the mainstream media, or in other words, Javier had to schmooze.
Javier hated schmoozing.
He absolutely fucking hated all the ass kissing he had to do with higher-ups as attaché, and he sure as fuck, didn't like having to do it now with people who had more money than god and a morbid curiosity about two of the biggest, most violent cartels in recent history.
He could decline these meetings if he wanted—Sheriff Arturo told him it was completely his choice if he took them or not. Obviously, his preference would be the latter, but he cared about his community and checked into it to confirm the donations were being used as intended, so he figured it was worth an hour of his time every once in a while.
This morning, he'd been extra annoyed it was Monday because he was scheduled to meet with one of these potential donors who was from Dallas or somewhere else in the state; he wasn't actually paying attention the prior week when Joy, the Sheriff's assistant who also helped out Javier sometimes, was giving him the information due to the fact seconds before she walked into his office he'd gotten a message on his phone from his wi-fiancée that read:
Can I blow u on lunch?
And he’d needed Joy to leave so he could call Cielito to give her an emphatic yes, with the stipulation he could eat her out for his afternoon meal instead of the sandwich she made him. All that’d registered when his, kind of, assistant was talking were the date and time for the meeting he hastily scribbled down on his yellow legal pad.
Since it was the beginning of a new week and having the meeting on his agenda, he didn’t have much hope for it being a good day, and then his phone vibrated with a text message from his soon-to-be wife:
Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
See, in the week after they came home from Miami, they had an in-depth conversation about starting their family—yes, they both had already enthusiastically agreed to try for a baby, but Cielito wanted to manage his expectations and ensure he understood the statistics, risks, and tragic possibilities he didn’t even want to think about, yet needed to be aware of.
That night, he’d gotten out his mother’s rosary for the first time in a while, sat on the edge of the bathtub in the locked bathroom, and had a quiet conversation with her about how happy and ecstatic he was, along with his new fears and worries, making a tearful request for her to please watch over them. He wasn’t religious by any means and didn’t see a point in praying to some all-powerful being that possibly existed and, if so, had more serious matters in the world to attend to, but Javier knew his mom would care if she was listening, and it comforted him, thinking she was, and that she would watch over them.
Another thing his fiancée had done was try and pinpoint when they actually had a chance of conceiving, and that was how he found out she’d begun keeping track of her periods when they started dating, her reasoning:
‘I thought you didn’t want kids, so I made sure I could catch any surprises as quickly as possible to give us time to figure out what we wanted to do, then I found out you’re actually pro-kids and knew the data would come in handy when we decided to go for it, and I was right.”
She was right, she was always right, though, and had marked possible dates their chances were high on the Star Wars-themed wall calendar in the kitchen—January’s picture was a still from the first movie of Darth Vader interrogating Princess Leia in her cell on the Death Star—and Javier had been waiting for the prospective days with almost the same amount of glee as their impending nuptials.
Today was a possibility, and getting her text message and having her confirm over the phone her telling symptoms had him fist pumping with an excited ‘Yes!’ when he hung up.
His day had completely turned around, and he wasn’t even bothered about his afternoon meeting because he was on top of the world and beyond happy about the possibility of becoming a father.
He’d been vibrating with so much excitement he couldn't even focus on his work, and there were some important reports he needed to go over and create; he also had a few files on some recent busts one of the guys on the narcotics team wanted him to look over to see if Javier noticed the same things he did without disclosing what they were—he’d be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.
Over the months he’d been with the Sheriff’s office, they’d had some leads on how the drugs were crossing the border from Mexico into Laredo, but they all ended up being dead ends. They knew what cartel was supplying; however, they didn’t know the link that was getting them into the US, and it bothered him so fucking much. Every person they caught and interrogated either wouldn’t say anything because they feared what the cartel would do or didn’t know shit, and had the same story that they got a call from an unknown number that gave them a location to pick up what was usually a vehicle with the drugs hidden inside along with their cash payment, and a destination where they needed to take it—generally, random parking lots they’d abandon the cars in. The narcotics team had attempted numerous times to get one of the traffickers to wait for their next call and report the specifics in order to conduct a sting, but once they were arrested, they were never contacted again or, in some cases, mysteriously disappeared; the assumption was they either fled to Mexico, or the sicarios got them.
It also didn't help that the town police department wasn't very forthcoming with their drug arrests and made getting their reports a pain in the ass—apparently, this only became an issue when Javier came on board as a consultant, which told him the person making their life difficult was the Laredo Police Department Chief, who also happened to be Lorraine's uncle.
That fucking family.
Since he'd been too amped to work, the time leading up to the lunch hour was spent going through the catalogs he had delivered to the office he hid in his desk drawer, containing baby stuff—clothes, toys, furniture, and making notes of the things he liked or needed to call Connie about to get her opinion.
The lunchtime quickie that ended up not being very quick was better than he ever could have imagined; it was so fucking fantastic that it easily made his top three Greatest Fucks—the other two were the sex on his birthday last month and the first time they fucked after they confessed their love on the kitchen floor—and it had him itching for the end of the workday to go home, and do it again, and probably again after that. It seemed Cielito wasn’t wrong about the probability of his dick hurting by the end of the week, and after some perspective (her gentle reminder of her sacrifices), it was something he was more than okay with—he was looking forward to it, actually.
He'd made her a cheese quesadilla and cut up some apple slices for her to take back to work and eaten his own before he left the apartment.
Javier had fussed with his clothes and hair to ensure it wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing the past hour and thought he did a pretty good job. He arrived at work ten minutes before his meeting and stopped by Joy’s desk, located outside Sheriff Arturos’s office, to get any messages he may have missed. The Sheriff was standing at his door talking to her in his uniform of a short-sleeved khaki shirt and army green pants, his gold Sheriff star badge gleaming under the overhead lights.
The older man’s dark eyes landed on him as he approached, the expression on his face turning to amusement.
“Parece que tuviste un buen almuerzo (Looks like you had a good lunch),” the Sheriff said.
His eyebrows furrowed. “¿Por qué dices eso (Why do you say that)...?”
Arturo tapped the side of his neck with his finger. “Ella te marcó (She marked you).”
Javier knew the exact spot, his hand instinctively moving to cover it. His attention went to Joy, who looked just as amused as the Sheriff. “How bad is it?” he asked her as he uncovered it.
She peered up at him through her wire-rimmed glasses, examining the spot. “She got you good, but you’ve had worse,” she answered. This was something that had happened many times before. “I can cover it up for your meeting if you want.”
He usually didn’t care about walking around with hickies on his neck—he actually loved that it broadcasted he was with someone. Unfortunately, there were some instances where he needed to look professional, and Joy would help by covering the marks with makeup Cielito had given her.
Checking his watch, the people would be arriving any minute. “There’s no time,” he sighed. “I’ll get my messages after the meeting—thank you!” He started walking to his office down the hall.
He’d made sure his desk didn’t look messy, keeping a legal pad and his pen at the ready, his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and he had some program brochures in case whoever he was meeting with wanted them. He was sitting, absentmindedly thinking about what kind of flowers he’d bring home to his fiancée, leaning towards a bouquet of colorful tulips or there’d been a pink rose and lilies arrangement he saw last week he thought was really pretty, she’d like.
His desk phone rang, and he picked up the receiver, answering, “Peña.”
“Your appointment has arrived, Mr. Peña,” Joy said on the other line. “Are you ready for them?”
“Sure,” he replied. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.” There was a lot he could do instead of regaling people with stories from the worst years of his life.
“We’re on our way.” She hung up, and so did he, Javier standing up from his chair.
Joy appeared at his doorway, holding out her arm to direct the newcomers inside, as she said, “Right this way.”
Three nicely dressed people walked in, two men and a woman, Javier stepped around his desk to shake the first man’s hand—he was much older than Javier, giving him a firm handshake.
“Thank you for meeting with us, Javier,” the man said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—he had an air about him that he knew he was the richest and most important person in the room; so, snobby. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“From someone I know?” Javier figured it was an agent at the DEA.
“I believe so,” he answered. “We can talk about that in a minute—this is my wife.” He looked at the woman beside him, and Javier shook her hand. She was probably ten to fifteen years younger than her husband, dressed in clothes and jewelry that had to be worth more than he made in a year—she wasn’t smiling. It was obvious from her expression that she was disappointed in what she was seeing and unimpressed, Javier cringing when her eyes zeroed in on his neck.
This was going to go so well.
Maybe she was expecting someone older who looked more experienced?
“It’s nice to meet you,” Javier said with a polite smile. He let go of her hand. “I didn’t get either of your names?”
The man spoke, “Call us…” he paused. “John,” he finally answered, “and Jane.”
“Okay… John and Jane…?”
“Doe.”
Fake names. “So, you want to be anonymous donors…?”
It had happened before; however, in those instances, they did tell him their names and just requested they be listed as anonymous.
“Precisely—you’re a smart guy, Javier,” John said, with a smile that wasn’t sincere and the comment coming off as condescending, making Javier’s teeth clench.
“Right…”
“Well—” John clapped his hands together once. “—let’s talk business.”
There was still the other man behind them—tall, gangly, balding, probably about John’s age, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a black suit, holding a briefcase—a lawyer if he had to guess, which wasn’t odd when there were large sums of money involved.
“I’ll take it the gentleman accompanying you is your lawyer?” he asked.
“Yes.”
They obviously weren’t going to introduce the guy to Javier, so he walked around them and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Javi,” he said, “and you are?”
“Gerald,” he answered, shaking his hand.
He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gerald.” Javier moved to close his office door. “Please, have a seat,” he told the room as he made his way to his desk. “Sorry, I only have two chairs, but I can have Joy bring in a third.”
He sat down in his, the couple taking seats in the two chairs in front of his desk.
“That won’t be necessary,” John said, waving away his offer. “Jerry is fine standing.”
Javier looked up at the man in question standing behind them. “Would you like a seat, Gerald?”
“I’m fine,” he answered.
Javier nodded and turned his attention to the people in front of him, who now looked annoyed because they apparently didn’t like politeness. He crossed his arms on his desk and gave them a close-lipped smile.
“So,” he started, “I was told you wanted to meet with me specifically. I’ll just say I don’t normally do these kinds of meetings, but if it helps get funding, I will. How can I help you? Would you like me to go over the programs?”
“We had some questions for you,” John replied.
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m assuming they’re about my work in Colombia?”
“Some,” he answered.
“What university did you go to?” Jane asked.
“Texas A&M.”
“What degree?”
“Criminal justice with a minor in psychology.”
Her nose scrunched as if she smelled something bad, and John sat up straighter in his seat. “Were you really involved with taking down Pablo Escobar?” he asked.
“I helped—spent seven/eight years going after him with my partner. I wasn’t there when he died, but my partner was.”
“That’s a considerable amount of time to hunt someone. Why weren’t you there in the end?”
“I was on leave here in Laredo visiting my family.” Kind of true. “Bad timing, as you can tell.” He humorlessly chuckled.
“Right… And there was another cartel you were involved in dismantling?”
“The Cali cartel,” he answered. “They took over after Escobar.”
“Sounds like a dangerous job. Do you have to worry about their associates or the criminals you put away coming after you?”
“Not really? Many are dead, and I’ve been out of the DEA for a while, so I think if something were going to happen, it would’ve by now.”
“Your achievements are impressive.” He said it, but he didn’t look impressed. “How old are you?”
“Forty.” He felt like he was being interrogated. “Can I tell you about the county’s programs?”
“Right, right,” John said. “Money. We promise you’ll have a check. We’re just interested in learning more about The Great Javier Peña.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t say I’m great…”
“We wouldn’t either,” Jane mumbled under her breath, not looking at him.
“That’s something we can agree on,” John said so smoothly that Javier was stunned by the rudeness.
What was with these people? They requested this meeting with him and didn’t seem to like him all that much—he was pretty sure the wife hated his guts, and he had no clue what he’d done or who they were. He didn’t have to put up with this shit, no matter who they thought they were or how much they were going to donate, so he let his mask fall along with all the pleasantries.
“So, I’m doing this as a favor for the Sheriff,” Javier said. “I don’t have to talk to you people, especially with you giving me the impression you don’t even like me. I don’t want to waste your time or mine—let’s cut to the chase; how much money are you donating? And I’ll decide if it’s worth answering any more of your questions.”
His shift in demeanor had the couple looking taken aback at his audacity, like they couldn’t believe he’d speak to them in such a way.
“Is that how you talk to people who want to give you money?” Jane asked.
His eyes went to her. “It’s how I talk to people who clearly don’t like or respect me. if you want this meeting to continue, tell me how much.”
“Okay, Javier,” John said. “Is one hundred thousand enough?”
He kept his face neutral, but Javier was shocked. No one had ever donated that much.
“That’ll work,” he responded. “What do you want to know?”
“Is it true you’d pay and sleep with prostitutes to get information while in Colombia?” Jane asked.
Javier jolted as if she’d slapped him, his eyebrows creasing. “Where’d you hear that? What does that have to do with Webb County or my career?”
“It’s a question of your morals,” she answered. “Did you use women for your own personal gain?”
“One hundred thousand,” John reminded him.
Jesus Christ.
His jaw ticked, his fists clenching. He answered, “Yes.”
“Is it true you were fired from the DEA for helping a paramilitary group that killed civilians?” Jane asked.
“I only helped them get a handful of Escobar’s sicarios and told them no civilians were to be harmed.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
He icily stared. “Yes.”
This was an interrogation.
“Were you engaged to Lorraine Smith seventeen years ago and left her the night before your wedding?”
How the fuck did they know that?
“She was trying to trap me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
John leaned forward, staring him down. “All those deplorable things—do you actually think you’re good enough to marry our daughter?”
There it was.
Everything finally made sense.
He’d only seen a few pictures of her parents since his fiancée didn’t enjoy going through her family photo album, actively avoiding the reminders of how she’d been neglected and shunned, so he hadn’t recognized them. Now that he knew their true identities, he could see the features Cielito had gotten from each of them—eyes, mouth, chin, nose, that crinkle between her eyebrows when they pulled together—if her mother had smiled just once instead of glowering at him the entire time, he would’ve clocked who they were in ten seconds flat.
These fuckers, he knew they were up to something, and to wait and show up a week before their wedding, was fucking diabolical—obviously, they were going to pull some shit to try and stop him from marrying their daughter. A sick part of Javier wished they knew he could still smell Cielito in his mustache and had some of her dried come on his dick; he was happy the mark on his neck stood out since it showed he was with her recently.
His surprise only lasted a second as it quickly turned into burning hot anger, Javier glaring at them.
“Do I think I’m good enough for your daughter? No, but she thinks I am, and her opinion is the only one that matters,” he answered.
Jane rolled her eyes, and John sat back, crossing his arms.
“It used to be common courtesy to ask the Father for permission to marry his daughter,” the other man said.
Javier leaned back, mirroring John with his arms over his chest. “When they considered their daughters property,” he said. “Your daughter is not your property; she’s a person who can do whatever the fuck she wants without your permission—get out of here with that sexist bullshit.”
Jane scoffed.
John jutted a finger at him. “You’re not good enough for our daughter,” he said. “You’re not cut from the same cloth—she’s Cashmere, and you’re a dirty old rag. She’s better than you—she deserves better than you, and you cannot marry her. We won’t allow it. She needs to marry someone from a family of worth or a man in a profession of notoriety who makes good money, like that great surgeon she dated, Dr. Andrews. He’s made a name for himself and would’ve been a great match for her. If she marries you, people will talk, and we’ll be a laughingstock amongst our peers that our daughter was with someone so beneath her—you’d sully her name and all that we’ve built. So, here’s how this is going to go, Javier,” he spat. “We promised you a check, and you’ll get one for one hundred thousand as we agreed for you to put toward whatever menial program you wish. Then you’ll get a second check for the same amount to call off your wedding and leave our daughter. You will never speak to her again, and if she happens to be pregnant with your child—god help us—you will sever your parental rights and have nothing to do with either of them. Am I understood?”
Javier was so fucking angry he thought he was going to explode.
He figured they’d lay into him about his unworthiness to try and make him second guess being with her. He also thought they’d try threatening him with god only knows what to stop their wedding. Trying to pay him off to keep him from marrying their daughter was unexpected and unbelievably insulting. They were out of their minds thinking money would get him to leave her; they were fucking insane thinking money would get him to leave her and their child.
His ears were ringing, his blood was boiling, feeling hot and so full of rage he was seeing red.
His tone was low and menacing, “Get. The fuck. Out.”
John sighed. “Fine. two hundred fifty thousand.”
“I don’t want your fucking money.”
“Everyone has a price,” Jane said.
He looked at her with narrowed eyes, resting his arms back on the desk. “Some people don’t actually give a fuck about money, Jane. So, no, I don’t have a fucking price. You could offer me one million dollars right this second, and I’d still tell you to fuck off. You people are fucking despicable—does she even know you’re here?”
“Of course not,” John said, giving him a look like that should be obvious. “We’re here on business.”
Javier’s attention went to him. “Your daughter’s happiness is ‘business?’ Wanting to ruin our lives is ‘business?’ Do either of you have hearts, or is it purely hatred keeping you alive? You know what, I don’t fucking care—be honest with me, do you even love her?”
“Yes, of course we love her!” Jane replied. “Why do you think we’re doing this? We love her and want what’s best for her!”
“No, you want what’s best for you.” He pointed at her. “If you actually loved her, you wouldn’t be doing this because you’d care about her happiness and not your family’s image. If you loved her, you’d be happy about our marriage.” His voice rose, “If you fucking loved her, you would treat her as such and respect her life choices! You don’t fucking love her, and you never have all because she wasn’t born with a fucking penis and didn’t follow some stupid fucking career tradition! No, you don’t fucking love her!” He stood from his chair so abruptly that it rolled back to ram into a bookcase.
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding, face hot.
His voice brokered no room for argument, “So, here’s how this is going to go. I won’t tell her about this absolutely fucked up conversation and attempted bribe, and you’re going to get the fuck out of our town without another word. You will not see her before leaving, and you will never show your faces here again. If you do not follow any of these instructions, I will tell her everything, and because I genuinely love your daughter—“ He pressed a hand over his heart. “—and know her, I can tell you that you will never hear from her again, and you won’t ever meet our children. Am I understood?”
After this meeting was finished, he was rushing to Cielito’s work to tell her all that had happened—he wouldn’t keep anything from her, especially this.
“One million,” John tried.
“Stop offering me fucking money!” Javier shouted, slamming his hands onto the desk. “You can’t pay me off!” His volume lowered. “Now, are you gonna go straight home, or do I need to call your daughter, my fiancée, on speakerphone so you can tell her what’s happening?”
John looked over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Jerry, the paperwork.” He snapped his fingers.
Gerald used his knee to prop up the briefcase that he popped open. Grabbing a large manila envelope, he passed it to John, who tossed it onto the wooden surface in front of Javier.
“Sign it,” the older man ordered, pointing at it. “Standard prenup—you get divorced, you take what little you brought with you, and don’t get a single cent of our money; if you won’t be reasonable, then you’ll play by our rules. She knows she must either keep her last name or hyphenate when she marries.” Cielito had never mentioned that and planned to take his last name, which her parents definitely wouldn’t like. “The children she has with you will have hyphenated last names, ours first—which shouldn’t be a problem for you.” That was aggressive and not fucking happening with how adamant his future wife was about getting rid of her maiden name. “—and they’ll have trusts set up for them that they can access at the age of eighteen if they pursue a medical degree, if not, then they’ll have to wait until they’re twenty-five.” How fucking rich were these people? And his kids would go to school for whatever they wanted; his fiancée had told him she could afford it. “—you, Javier, are barred from touching any of the money.”
“I don’t want your fucking money, pal,” Javier rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like it matters to me, and pull your head out of your ass—we don’t give a single fuck about you enough to do any of this asinine bullshit.”
“I’m not done,” John’s words were clipped with irritation, and his face showed it. “And you’ll want to hear the rest.”
“I don’t think I do, but please, buddy, keep up this disappointing attempt to intimidate me. Just remember, I spent years with a target on my back and know what it’s like to be at the end of a loaded gun, so your words aren’t gonna do shit.”
“We expect you to visit during the holidays and act civil; that means smiling in the annual family photo.” Javier snorted at this man being so full of himself to think he could get them to play ‘one big happy family.’ “If you don’t sign, then your children will get nothing, we will write our daughter out of our wills, and she will never get any additional financial support from us outside of the money we put aside for her college education—” She had the same stipulation that unless she went to medical school, she wouldn’t have access to her college fund until she was twenty-five. “—and what her grandparents left her; our son will inherit everything.”
Well, shit.
Javier frowned. This just put him between a rock and a goddamn concrete wall of a hard place.
“I’m sure you want your children to have a head start in life,” John continued, looking smug, “so we advise you sign, right Jerry?”
“It’s a substantial amount of money,” Gerald replied. “It would be in your best interest to sign, and that’s just my unbiased opinion.”
Javier was ready to tell them to take the prenup and shove it up their asses, the problem: he couldn’t make an executive decision on Cielito’s behalf that would lose her inheritance. This was something he needed to discuss with her and figure out if she wanted him to abide by the demands—which he would, for her; he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do anything for her. Now he needed to get these assholes to leave, so he could head to the hospital and talk to her.
“Thank you for your unbiased opinion, Gerald,” Javier said. He looked at the man who’d unfortunately be his father-in-law in a week. “Have you listed all of that in here?” He poked the manila envelope.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not gonna sign a legally binding document without having my lawyer look it over—I’m a smart guy, after all. You got a card with your fax number on it, Gerald?”
“Yes,” he answered, pulling one out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and walking around his bosses to hand it to Javier.
“Thanks. I’m going to let my lawyer determine if it really is in my best interest to agree to this, and he’ll be in touch in a couple of days—you probably won’t tell me, but where’d you hear all that shit about me?”
How people in town found out about his history with the informants has been a mystery since he never told anyone. He knew a person could find out about his involvement with Los Pepes from reading an article in a Miami newspaper, and everyone in fucking Laredo was aware of Lorraine.
John looked at him like he was stupid. “Private investigator,” he answered.
“Let me guess, he talked to Lorraine and her family?”
“No comment.”
So, that was a yes.
He sighed. “I’m really fucking curious about where he got the intel on my… relations with the women in Colombia. It had to be someone I worked with—“ He knew it wasn’t Steve. “—or who knew me down there.”
“They contacted us anonymously, so I don’t know.”
It smelled like Stechner, which, now that he was thinking about it, that fucker had been through this area before he arrived unannounced a couple of months ago, working alongside the DEA with what was going on in Mexico. He would’ve loved stirring up trouble by letting it slip about Javier’s relationships with informants.
He nodded once. “Well,” Javier started, “eating a bowl of shattered glass would’ve been more pleasant than this shitshow of a meeting. You folks really know how to make a great first impression,” he said sarcastically. “Now get the fuck out of my office and town.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re not welcome here.”
The couple got up from their chairs.
John checked the time on his Rolex, the gold watch featuring a white dial that easily cost three to four times the amount of the one on Javier’s wrist. “We need to get going anyway,” he said, “I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow for a medical conference, and I can’t miss it since I’m speaking at it—hopefully, I’ll run into Daniel. It’s always nice talking to him.”
Javier’s eyes rolled so hard he thought they might get stuck.
“We’re happy to leave this awful town,” Jane sneered. “One day, she’ll tire of you and realize the mistake she made letting you trap her here. We’ll be there when she finally comes to her senses and returns home to us.”
Javier huffed amusedly. “You’re fucking delusional, lady. You don’t even know her! She loves living here. Especially since it’s so fucking far away from you snobby fuckers.”
The woman raised her nose at him and hmph’d.
“Last chance, Javier,” John said, meeting his eyes. “One million dollars and all you have to do is disappear from her life—you’ve done it before, so do it again, and this time be compensated for it. Someone like you can easily find another woman to love.”
Javier straightened, his hands sitting on his hips, staring daggers at the other man. “I don’t want another woman,” he growled. “You’re not understanding, so let me say it nice and slow, and maybe you’ll get it: I. Love. Your. Daughter. No one else. I will never love anyone else. I love her more than life itself. I would take a bullet for her. I would die for her. I would do anything for her, like signing this fucking document—” He tapped his finger on it. “—that I don’t agree with or want to do 99% of because I love her, and I want her to be happy. She is my entire world, and just the thought of being away from her makes me sick to my stomach. So, unless she tells me to leave, I’m not going anywhere; I am spending the rest of my life with her, and there is no amount of money in the entire fucking universe that could get me to do otherwise.” He took in a big breath and slowly let it out, frowning. “From the way you can’t seem to grasp the love we have and what your daughter means to me, I’m under the impression your marriage is transactional or for appearances only—there was never any love, it was just a way to improve your social standing, or whatever stupid shit you rich people care about, but the fact of the matter is it wasn’t built on love. It’s superficial.” He looked at John. “If you went bankrupt tomorrow, she wouldn’t stay with you.” He pointed at the wife. “There’s no for richer or poorer with you two, and that’s really fucking sad. I pity you.”
The couple were scowling at him. “We don’t need your pity,” the older man said. “You know nothing about our marriage. We’ll be expecting to see the signed papers soon.”
They didn’t wait for him to respond, storming toward the door with Gerald following.
Javier sighed, pressing his fingers to his brow.
He knew eventually he’d have to meet Cielito’s parents. He had thought about what he’d say to them when he did so many times he’d lost count because Javier needed them to know how angry he was with how they’d treated the woman he loved. He needed them to know how they failed her as parents. He needed them to know how much he loved her and that he wouldn’t let them continue hurting her. He finally had his chance, and they’d made him so mad, he couldn’t remember a single fucking thing he said and hoped in his rage he got some of his points across.
They were at a crossroads now. He’d tell her what happened, every detail he could remember, and then it would be up to her—will they cut off complete contact with her family? Or would they have to abide by her parents’ demands? Javier thought he knew which way she’d choose, but money had a way of making people do things they normally wouldn’t, and from the looks of it, there was a lot of money on the line.
He sighed again. Anxiety had his stomach twisting into knots, and he was so fucking worried about what she’d choose that his chest was aching. He’d go along with whatever it was because, in the end, it was her decision, and he’d respect it, even if it was something he didn’t like and, holy shit, did Javier hate the idea of these stuck-up pricks remaining in their lives and having any kind of relationship with their future children.
There was a knock on his office door, and his hand lowered, finding Joy standing in the doorway with worry on her brow. She was a great kid who’d really gotten the hang of the job, which was her first out of college, and she was doing very well—Joy also loved Cielito and hung on her every word when they talked.
“Is everything okay, Javi?” she asked. “I heard yelling.”
“They were my in-laws, and they fucking hate me. I’ve never met them in person; hell, I’ve never even spoken to her dad on the phone, and they flew all the way here to talk to me.”
Her eyes went wide behind her glasses. “It wasn’t to congratulate you on your marriage, was it…?”
He scoffed. “No, they were trying to convince me to call it off.”
“Then why are you still here? Go to the hospital! Don’t worry about your messages.”
“I’m going,” he said, grabbing the large envelope containing the documents and moving toward the door, not even bothering to put on his suit jacket.
“You should know they left this with me.” She held up what looked to be paper as he approached, and he took it, reading what it was.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said in disbelief. “They donated the fucking hundred grand—we didn’t even talk about the programs. How did they know who to write the check out to?” He met her eyes.
“They asked me which one was my favorite.” She shrugged. “Now, go!” She snagged the check back. “I’ll get this to where it belongs, and you go deal with what you need to—tell her hi from me.”
“I will.” He made his way out of the door. “Thank you!” he said, walking as fast as his legs could go.
Once in his truck and on his way, he’d gotten his cell phone out and speed-dialed a number.
Ring.
“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo. How may I direct your call?”
“Robyn Thompson, post-op.”
“One moment.”
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hi, this is Robyn,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s Javi.”
“Oh, they paged me to answer the phone. Let me go get her.”
“No!” he quickly said. “I need to talk to you.”
Her tone went serious, “What’s goin’ on, Javi?”
“I’m on my way there right now and need to talk to her about something that happened. Would you be okay if I borrowed her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes?”
“Javier,” she whispered, “are you gettin’ cold feet?”
That being her first assumption stung, and it hurt worse because she knew damn well how head over heels he was for her best friend. It looked like even after all these years since his failed wedding, it didn’t matter if he was madly in love with someone and had a great relationship; people were still going to wonder if he would leave his new bride at the altar.
“What? No! Never! Not with her. Her fucking parents came to town and tried to pay me a fuckton of money to call off the wedding and leave her, I told them to fuck off, but they want me to sign a goddamn prenup with a list of demands that I need to talk to her about.”
“Her parents…? Here in Laredo…?”
“Yeah, I was pretty fucking shocked, too, then so fucking angry I can’t remember what I yelled at them.”
“She can take her break early, and I’ll cover.”
“Please don’t say anything to her.”
“Oh, this is all you.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
He ended the call.
The radio’s volume was down low, and the air conditioner was turned up high, Javier alone with his thoughts as he figured out how he was going to tell her about what happened—he’d tell her the truth, of course, but he didn’t want to upset her. That was the thing, though; she was going to be upset and royally pissed off.
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The patient in room three wanted some apple juice; room five was asking for pain meds, but they had an hour before they could have another dose and hated being told ‘no’ so much they wouldn’t stop hitting their call button as if each press would magically make the minutes go by faster; room one was asleep and in—you checked the time on your watch—the next forty-five minutes, an orderly was coming by to take them for a walk to exercise their new hip.
It had been a busy fucking day, and you felt awful about coming back to work a little late after lunch.
You were heading toward the storage room to get the apple juice and just put your hand on the door handle.
“Hey,” Robyn said as she walked up to you. “What are your rooms needin’?”
“Three, apple juice. Five, pain meds, but we have to wait an hour. One is asleep for now.”
She nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna take care of all that for you while you go on break.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, looking at your watch. “It’s way too early for me to take a break. I’ve got another hour, at least.”
Her smile was small, patting your arm. “You’re gonna wanna go now ‘cause Javi’s waitin’ for you over at the desk.”
Your head whipped in that direction, and sure enough, he was standing there in his charcoal-colored slacks, white dress shirt, and red-patterned tie, staring at you with big brown puppy dog eyes and a little smile—and doing a little awkward wave that was both adorable and weirdly out of character from his usual suaveness.
“Uh, why is he here?” you asked, returning his gesture with a small wave of your own. “I was just with him on lunch...”
She turned her attention to him. “Oh, look at him doin’ a lil wave,” she cooed as if she was fawning over a cute baby, waving back. “Isn’t that just adorably weird and a reason you should talk to him right now?”
“You’re really okay if I take my break?” Your face turned her way.
She met your eyes. “Girl, my two patients are passed out, and the next one isn't arrivin’ for another hour, shoo.” She shooed you away with her hands, and you went.
Javi had stopped waving as you approached him, and once you were close enough, you asked, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here?”
The look on his face wasn’t happy; he was clearly worried, and it made you nervous.
“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
Alarm bells started going off in your head.
“Javier, is your dad okay? Did something happen to him? Or someone else in the family?”
He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing on the skin of the back of it. “Pop’s okay, Cielito—everyone in our family is okay. Take me somewhere we can talk, and I’ll explain.”
You chewed on your lip, not wanting to ask the question but needing to in order to prepare yourself. “Does this have something to do with our wedding…?” your voice was quiet.
“Baby, no,” he reassured. “Mi amor, look at me.” You did. “Us, our family, our friends, are all good—something happened at work, and I can’t talk to you on the phone about it or wait until we get home. I’ll tell you once we’re somewhere alone.”
“Okay.” You nodded, interlacing your fingers with his and leading him down the hall. For privacy’s sake, you took him to the closest on-call room, the small space containing a twin-sized bed and a desk.
The door was locked, and you moved further into the room and stopped, turning to face your fiancé.
Your eyes were on his. “What’s going on, babe?” you asked.
He took in a big lungful of air, saying as he exhaled, “Your parents came to my office today.”
What he stated was so absurd you thought you misheard him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said my parents were at your office, like physically, in person at your office, which is just absolute crazyballs because why would they come all the way here and not tell me or visit me…?”
The look on his face was so sad it made your stomach drop to your toes. He slid his hand soothingly along your bicep, up and down, over and over.
His tone was gentle. “You know how we’ve been wondering if they’re up to something?”
“Yes,” you whispered, dreading what he would say.
“They were pretending to like me and support our marriage, so you wouldn’t suspect them of having anything to do with their plan of getting me to leave you the week before our wedding....”
“What are you talking about?”
“They came to my office today to try and pay me a lot of fucking money to disappear from your life.”
Your eyes widened.
“They tried to pay you to leave me…?”
“Yes, and it made me so fucking angry that they’d do such a thing and try to frame it like they were doing it out of love and wanting what was best for you when in reality, it’s what they want—I’m still fucking pissed.” You could tell he was with how upset he was getting as he continued speaking. “I suspected if they were gonna pull some shit, it’d be trying to make me doubt I was good enough for you or threaten me with what? I don’t know, but to try and pay me off? Like our love can be fucking bought? Or to assume money would mean more to me than you?” His eyes were getting watery. “You, my fucking soulmate. I told them no amount of money could get me to leave you. It was so fucked up, and I hate them,” he seethed. “I’m sorry, baby, but I hate your fucking parents, I hate your family, and I lost my cool and yelled at them for not loving you and being so goddamn despicable.”
It took a second for you to process that your parents flew thousands of miles to try and pay Javi to break things off. You knew they didn’t approve of him, but to go so low? It had anger welling up inside you the longer you thought about it, getting madder at how upset they made your sweet, caring, loving fiancé, who you knew absolutely laid into them for trying such a heinous thing.
After your mother’s abrupt change in opinion of him, Javi and you had been suspicious of how out of character it was for her. There was a tiny bit of hope about the size of a grain of sand that she was being sincere with how she called more in the following weeks, wanting to hear about your wedding plans and find out the date. When you thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising she was just fishing for information to put together her scheme. She never had any intention of helping you when she offered to hire you a wedding planner; it was a ruse to buy her time to figure out how to stop the whole thing, and you threw a wrench in her plotting by getting married so soon.
And this was the final straw.
You’d given your family enough chances, and this time, they went too far—there was no coming back from this. They could never be trusted, and you wouldn’t let them continue treating the man you loved so horribly. This whole thing was confirmation they didn’t love you.
You reached to cradle his smooth cheeks in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Javi. I’m sorry for what they put you through. I’m sorry for how they treated you. I’m sorry for them, and I’m done. They’ve shown me who they really are, and it’s the nail in the fucking coffin.” Tears didn’t come to your eyes, and you felt no sadness about cutting them out, probably because you’d already spent enough time mourning the loss of a relationship with them and had come to terms with it. “I’ve got you, your dad, your family, Robyn—I don’t need people full of so much hate. I’m done, it’s over. I won’t be answering any of their calls.”
His eyes closed in relief, his breath stuttering on a sob. The emotion was thick when he spoke, “I want that to be true, but there’s more…”
“What do you mean there’s more?”
He looked at you. “Your father gave us an ultimatum—I sign a prenup, and we go along with his terms, or you lose your inheritance; they’ll write you out of their wills, and our kids won’t get any money. They said all you’d have is your college fund and what your grandparents left you.” He held up a large manila envelope. “You can read everything he’ll require us to do, and I’ll sign if that's what you want.”
“Wait, let me guess his terms.”
He looked confused. “What?”
“Did he say I had to keep my maiden name?”
“Yes… or hyphenate it.”
You huffed out a breath. “Typical. God, did he say the shit about our children having my last name first? Which I know you have your dad and mom’s last names, but that’s how it’s ordered: your dad's, then mom’s; it’d be weird if we did mine first.”
“He did…”
“Yeah, I’d prefer our kids just being Peñas. Um, what else? Oh! Was there anything about our babies getting money for medical school?”
“Trusts… They can access at eighteen for medical school, twenty-five if not.”
“Figures.” Your eyes rolled. “Didn’t get access to any of my money until I was twenty-five.”
His free hand caressed your face, his expression still pinched in confusion. “Cielito, what is happening right now? Why aren’t you upset?”
Your eyebrows dipped. “Why would I be upset…? You’re not signing that.” You pointed at the packet. “I don’t want their money. Do you want their money?”
“What? No. I told your father exactly how much I didn’t want his fucking money. I’m not quite getting why you aren’t more upset about no longer speaking to them…”
“Oh! This is probably hard for you to understand because your parents love you unconditionally and are, in general, fantastic people. See, my parents’ love is conditional, which you’re holding proof of, and when you spend the first eighteen years of your life trying to live up to impossible standards for the tiniest scrap of affection, you kinda develop a lot of resentment toward the ones who are supposed to love you no matter what.
“Then there’s the way they think they can dictate my life choices as an adult,” you continued, “and only call me so often to keep tabs on what I’m up to in order to ensure I’m not doing anything that would embarrass them or bring shame to the family name—they’re fucking ridiculous about their traditions and keeping up appearances that their family is perfect.
“So, sure, I love them,” you told him, “but I’ve been tired of their bullshit for a while now and have been clear about my boundaries; plus, they knew they were on thin ice, and Javi, every time I’ve told you I’d choose you over them, I meant it.” You swiped his bangs off his forehead. “Your love is unconditional, and you genuinely love me; what’s better than that? And that’s why I don’t have any issues cutting them out of our lives and don’t care about losing my inheritance.
“You’ve seen firsthand how toxic they are,” you said, “and I won’t have them around us or our children. Our happiness is more important than keeping shitty people in our lives for money, and babe, believe me when I say we don’t need their money.”
His eyes were searching yours. “Are you sure?”
You smiled. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t—yes, Javier, I’m sure, I’m more than sure. You are what matters to me. You and our future babies are what matter to me.” You took the envelope from his hand and looked around the room, finding the small garbage can over by the door. “Swoosh!” you called out and tossed the documents toward it.
—them landing on the floor beside the trash with a thud.
“There goes my NBA career,” you mumbled.
A surprised sound left you when lips crushed against yours hard, Javi’s big, warm hands holding your face—there was a second delay before you started kissing him back just as fervently with your eyes closed, your fingers threading into the soft, thick strands of his hair, pressing your body into his as close as you could get without crawling into his skin.
His palm slid down your back to grab a handful of your ass, his tongue slipping between your lips to massage your own.
Javier could be an imposing figure with the broadness of his shoulders, his wide chest, and tall stature. He had a way of making you feel delicate and safe when he caged you in his arms, something ancient in the back of your mind repeating, 'Protector, protector, protector...' and purring happily.
He could easily get you to move where he wanted, and he walked you back until your legs hit the side of the bed. In the blink of an eye, he had your spine to the mattress with him on top of you, the kissing getting frantic.
"I love you," his sentence muffled against your mouth. "I love you—I need... I need." He sounded desperate, unable to articulate what he wanted, but if you thought about what he went through that day—the excitement of actually trying for the baby, the rage at meeting your parents, the worry at what you'd choose—he felt a lot of big emotions, and you knew his way of coping when he got overwhelmed was losing himself in another person's body.
He needed you.
His hips were cradled in your thighs, feeling him hardening.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Today, however, there were a couple of issues, the big one being that you were at your place of employment, and the second was you didn’t have time—Robyn was already doing you a solid by covering, and it’d be rude to go over your allotted fifteen minutes of break time.
Javi needed you, though, and you wanted to make him feel better.
With a quick glance at your watch, you had seven minutes to work with, a plan quickly forming in your head.
It wasn’t hard to get him to roll you both to have you on top of him, straddling his hips and shoving his arms above his head, where you held them down. Your mouths were fused together, the kiss becoming needy and hungry, your lips slick, and your tongues moving together with practiced familiarity. With a roll of your hips, you ground yourself against his hardened cock, heat zipping through your belly at the broken whine he made, which only encouraged you to keep going, continuing to grind, rubbing your pussy along his thick shaft.
He wanted to touch you, making an attempt to get his hands out of your hold, but you kept them firmly in place. You spoke quietly into his lips, “You gonna be a good boy and let me make you feel good?” He groaned, his entire body shivering under you.
His length was between the lips of your clothed cunt, grinding yourself against it, the friction to your clit causing sparks to dance in your core. "You gonna come for me?" you asked, keeping your voice low and nipping at his bottom lip, kissing him again, rough sounds rumbling from his chest.
Your mouth broke away from his, pressing your foreheads together. "You gonna think about how I still have you inside me?" you murmured, not slowing your movements, sliding your pussy over him repeatedly.
Occasionally, there were voices or the wheels of hospital beds rolling outside the room’s door as people passed by. Inside, where you and Javier were alone, the sounds filling the air were the mattress springs softly squeaking, his breathy moans, and your panted breaths.
"You gonna think about how you might've gotten me pregnant today?" you asked. That got you a groan and him bucking his hips.
"You gonna think about how you’ll fill me again when we get home? How you're gonna keep me all nice and stuffed so I have your baby in nine months?" A desperate sound left him, and he started thrusting up into you while you kept grinding.
"You gonna think about what I'll look like knocked up with your baby? The big belly and swollen tits? You like that my boobs are gonna get bigger, don't you?" You were reveling in his whimpers and moans, knowing you had him. "Have you imagined what I'll look like riding you when I'm pregnant?"
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. His hands broke free, pawing at your body and zeroing in on your breasts with the enthusiasm of a man who just got home from war. “Get so fucking hard imagining it.” His fingers dug into your waist as he helped you move faster and pressed you harder against him.
“Are you gonna come thinking about it?”
The question made him gasp out, “Yes.”
You knew he was close when his breaths got shaky.
“Come for me, Javi,” you said. “Come on. Let go.”
Your mouth descended on his, the kiss sloppy and more of a mash of lips to quiet his sounds. He suddenly went still and stiffened with a choked whine, feeling his dick under you pulsing as he fell apart, your movements stopping. It was quiet in the room, save for the heavy breaths. Your mouth left his to kiss his chin, then both of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally, his forehead. You admired his pretty face with his closed eyes, and his reddened lips turned up in the cutest smile you couldn’t help but kiss.
His breathing started to even out. “How are you feeling?” you asked. Checking your watch to see you still had two minutes remaining.
“Better,” he whispered.
“Good.” The bed complained as you got off of him and it, taking a couple of steps to grab the box of tissues from the desk. “You’ll probably want to clean up the mess in your pants,” you said, setting them on the mattress beside him. “Sorry about that.”
“Liar,” he replied, blinking his eyes open all cat-like and turning his head to look at you.
You smiled. “I mean, it’s very hot, and I’m proud of myself. I wish I could stay longer, but I need to get back to work.” Bending down, you quickly pecked him on the lips before straightening. “Bye.”
You started to walk away, and his arm shot out to grab your hand. “Wait,” he said.
Meeting his gaze, you asked, “Yeah?”
His eyes had gone round, and he was looking at you like you hung the moon or painted the sky with stars; there was so much awe and love in his expression that it stole your breath and made you feel as though you were all that mattered to him, and wasn’t that the truth? It was hard to believe that someone loved you so completely and would do anything for you, knowing that had you said you wanted your inheritance, he would’ve gone along with all the shit that came with it—he would’ve hated it a lot, but Javi still would’ve done it for you because he loved you. He loved you more than any other person or thing on the planet, and when you had kids, he’d love them just as much, and that thrilled you.
You knew what he would say before the words left his mouth.
“I love you,” you said at the same time, and he smiled so big it made his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“What am I gonna say next?” he asked.
“Well, you had a day, and now you’re ridiculously happy about never having to deal with the people I’m related to again; add in that you just came and have all those love chemicals floating around in your body, you’re gonna wax poetic about how much you love me very beautifully and probably in Spanish because you tend to reset to your original programming and speak in your first language when you’re extremely lost in the sauce or come really hard.”
He huffed out an amused breath. “Smartass.”
“But am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then lay it on me.”
“I don’t want to now—you already know what I was gonna say.”
“Okay, then I’m heading back to work,” you said, calling his bluff.
He frowned and squeezed your hand. “Wait, don’t go yet.”
“What’s up?”
“Te amo (I love you),” he replied. “Te amo tanto (I love you so much).”
“Yo sé y yo también te amo (I know and I love you, too).”
“No, cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que solo te amaré a ti por toda la eternidad (No, when I say I love you, it’s a promise that I will only love you for all eternity). Cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que sólo tú tendrás mi devoción completa (When I say I love you, it’s a promise that only you have my complete devotion). Cuando digo que te amo, las palabras vienen de lo más profundo de mi alma, donde has llenado la parte que me faltaba (When I say I love you, the words are coming from the depths of my soul where you’ve filled in the missing part of me). Cuando digo que te amo, lo siento en cada célula de mi cuerpo (When I say I love you, I feel it in every cell of my body). Cuando digo que te amo, lo digo en serio: te amo y siempre te amaré hasta el fin de los tiempos (When I say I love you, I mean it: I love you, and I’ll always love you until the end of time). Te amo, Cielito (I love you, Cielito).”
He had your eyes feeling a little misty at what he said and how it was apparent he meant every word.
“God, I love you,” you told him, “and I hate that I can’t articulate how much I love you as poetically as you do—just know I love you as much as you love me, and I’m yours forever, and I mean forever. Let me kiss you, and then I really have to go. I’ll lock the door on my way out so you can clean up.”
“Baby, I don’t need you to say sappy bullshit for me to know how fucking much you love me.” He brought your hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “I feel it in all the things you do for me. Like throwing away the prenup and knowing I was fucked up about everything today and making me cream my pants like an inexperienced teenager getting his dick touched for the first time to make me feel better. I know you love me, and that’s why I’m marrying you next week and am so fucking excited to start a family with you.”
“Oh, Javi,” you gasped. “You creamed your pants like a besotted grown man getting his dick touched by the woman he’s madly in love with—I’m being honest when I say it’s romantic and very hot.”
He chuckled, pulling you closer by the arm, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, hoping he felt it in your kiss, the all-consuming love you had for him.
“You are the woman I’m madly in love with,” he murmured into your mouth.
“And you’re the man, I’m madly in love with,” came your muffled reply.
There were a lot of ways your life could’ve turned out and many paths you could’ve chosen. What you knew for certain was they all would’ve led you to him. Mistakes weren’t mistakes, all of your choices were right, even if they were wrong, and it didn’t matter where you lived in the past or all of the people you’d met over the years; the invisible string tying you together would’ve somehow, some way pulled you to him in that grocery store on that hot summer day because it was the perfect moment in both of your lives to find one another—you were two lost souls who finally found what you’d been missing: each other.
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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Double trouble
Jake Sully x female recom reader x Miles Quaritch
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Words: 4.9k
Summary: The Colonel had send you on a mission to get information out of Jake Sully, but things take a different turn than what you were expecting. Not that you mind.
Warnings: explicit smut, p in v, phone sex, sexual tension, teasing, flirting, degradation kink, praise kink, not really a threesome because one of them isn’t physically interacting idk??, confident reader turns into a shy mess, mentions of spanking, enemies to lovers, authority kink, dirty talk
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The mission was simple, really.
Send the cute newbie to go and flirt with the enemy, let her bat her pretty long lashes at Jake Sully and if they were lucky and he was stupid enough, he would reveal important information to her that would ultimately lead to his downfall and result in his death.
The Colonel licked his lips at the thought of crushing Sully’s skull with his bare hands. It was a sight that sent a physical shiver down your spine, as Quaritch explained the whole plan to his recom unit –that now included you too.
They had you dressed up in a loincloth, pretty feathers decorating your chest, colorful beads in your braided hair to make you look like a real native. It was almost impossible to tell that you weren't part of the omatikaya clan. On top of that, you haven't been a recom for very long, which meant there was no way Jake could recognize you or even figure out that there was any form of connection between you and the RDA.
Or so they thought.
You couldn’t help but fiddle with your hair, brushing it with your hands, nervously pulling it back and forth over your ears in an attempt to hide the little communication devices inside them. The Colonel had assured you multiple times that they were pretty well hidden, almost impossible to see even if you paid very close attention to it.
You heard him through the ear comm. The Colonel, Miles Quaritch. Your superior. Heard his low, breathy chuckles whenever you put on your flirty tone with Jake, which in return caused your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. The whole experience was nothing short but humiliating, truth be told. But you were an expert at pulling up a façade that made you look confident in front of men. Especially the intimidating ones.
Luckily, it seemed like Jake didn’t mind all your questions. Pretty little thing was probably just curious to know everything about her beloved olo’eyktan, was what he had thought at first. If anything, he relished in the attention you showered him in, enjoyed the way your hand held onto his arm when he walked with you, how you followed him around whenever you spotted him during his duties. How attentive you listened to him, tail curling in excite and cute ears twitching when his voice grew lower and his gaze began to subtle wander over your body. Much more so, he enjoyed how your eyes wandered over his body as well, when you were so obviously flirting with him. How you always managed to turn every innocent conversation into something that made his cock throb underneath his loincloth and how you seemingly took great pleasure in planting those kind of thoughts in his head that made him drool like a starved man. But he never gave in.
Jake really enjoyed playing with you, just as much as you enjoyed playing with him.
But of course he wasn’t stupid.
He knew it the moment you introduced yourself to him, that there was something up with you. How could a beautiful woman like you live among his people and he had never seen or heard about you before? He had to admit, it took him a while to figure out what exactly you were after. But with the way you practically acted as his shadow, following him around and poking holes through him with all your little nosey questions, your true intentions became pretty obvious after a while. You were one of them. An RDA spy, sent to collect information.
Still, and he knew he was putting himself and everyone around him at risk, he couldn’t just do something about it– about you. Not until he at least got a little taste of you. Call it reward for sparing your life, when he could’ve kept you as a captive, use you as leverage against the RDA or… worse.
While he knew most of the things you said and did were solely an act to get him to spill informations to you, Jake could tell that some of your reactions were genuinely. Like the way you were blushing right now, squeezing your thighs together and chewing on your bottom lip as your gaze fell to the prominent bulge under his loincloth. Usually, he would’ve ended it right here. He would restrain himself from giving in to you, walk you home and watch you trying to hide that frustrated little pout, because another day went by without him giving you anything to report back to the RDA. Another day where he had left you desperate and flustered and didn’t make a move to touch you how you so wordlessly begged him to.
But not today, Jake decided.
"W-What?", you blinked up at him, hands nervously fiddling with your hair. Whatever he had said to you, your brain barely had the capacity to register his words anymore. You were too caught up by the moment, the sight in front of you and his sudden change in mannerism. You could literally feel your tough façade crumbling under his intense gaze.
Usually, Jake took your flirting and teasing very composed. He did flirt back once or twice, a smile here and a grin there. But a hand to your thigh as you were lost in a conversation or resting on your lower back as he walked you home was the most that had happened so far. He could be a real gentleman if he wanted to. No matter what you said to him, he hadn’t acted upon any of his desires or reveal anything important to you.
So when he finally did, it definitely took you more than just a little off guard.
"Oh don’t make me spell it out for you", Jake chuckled and the sound of it was enough to make you swallow dryly, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. "I thought you were a smart girl. You must’ve figured it out by now."
The noises on the other end of your communication device had gone awfully quiet. What should you do? A mixture of uneasiness and anxiety rose in your body, without Quaritch’s voice in your ear. It wasn’t like he gave you a whole script, most of the time you were simply improvising. But now that you seemingly lost all capacity to act on your own, you wished he would just tell you what to say and do, lead the direction and get you out of here.
"Figure out… what exactly?", you laughed, the nervousness in your voice becoming more obvious. A mischievous grin spread over his lips and you watched with wide eyes how he stepped closer to you, until he was close enough to feel his breathe fan over the top of your head.
"That I want you", he states the obvious unapologetically, a wicked grin spreading wide across his face and you blush deeply, trying to swallow around the lump in your throat, but it’s no use. You’re left unable to respond to him.
Jake then reaches out to caress the side of your cheek, gently running his thumb across your jawline and it almost felt affectionately. Your breath quickened and at his touch, an uncontrollable shiver runs down your spine, into your very core. You’re left in the thick air of the moment. Jakes touch, his stare, everything so suddenly overwhelming and all-consuming. He sees it in your eyes and smiles down at you once more, his expression shifting to one of coyness and mischief.
He leans in closer, his face just inches from yours now while he stares deeply into your eyes. "Not what you were expecting? C’mon", Jake scoffs, genuinely amused at how shy you had suddenly become. "You’ve been flirting with me, teasing me for days now, sweetheart. Don’t you think it’s finally time to stay true to your words?"
The scent around him has grown thick, an intoxicating mix of pine and musk. It lingers in the air, filling your lungs, making you light-headed, almost drunk. He makes no move to touch you further, instead retreating his hand to cross both of his thick, muscular arms over his equally board chest.
"Or was all that talk about wanting to fuck me really just talk?", he chuckles, tilting his head, "Just wanted me to tell you a thing or two, hm?" His voice grows lower, with an edge of danger that was sharp enough to cut. "So you can report it back to your superiors."
An very audible gasp escaped you at his words, all blood running cold in your veins as you stare at him with wide eyes.
You had been caught.
A thousand thoughts run through your mind all at once, when one of his hands reaches out for you again. To your surprise, he just taps the device inside your ear with his index finger.
"You think I didn’t notice? That someone was there, listening to you, trying to sweet talk your way into my pants like a cute little slut."
His words make your cheeks turn bright red, all blood rushing through your face when you realize that he knew it all this time. Thinking back about all the times you had flirted with him so obviously, tried to touch him and act as seductively as possible— it made you want to hide your face in embarrassment.
God, you probably made the biggest fool out of yourself. Now you wished he would just get it over with, kill you right then and there and end your suffering, spare you from any more embarrassment.
"Who is it, huh?", Jake asks with the corner of his mouth curved into a dangerous smile.
For a moment you consider your options. Should you deny any of this? Should you at least try and get out of here before he could actually hurt you? Should you tell him the truth, be cooperative and maybe he would spare your life? If you would tell him who’s been listening the whole time, who’s been giving you orders, what could he possibly do with this information anyways? It’s not like it would change anything about your current situation.
It’s silent on the other end of your communication device and for a second you wonder if Quaritch is even still there. Maybe he was already on the way to rescue you? No, that was just foolish to think. He wouldn’t risk his whole operation just to get the useless newbie of his squad back. Good for nothing but to play the bait in all of this. No, he wouldn’t come to get you. Nobody would.
By the time you had gathered yourself to answer him, your breathing had become rapid and anxious. "Quaritch, it’s- it’s Colonel Miles Quaritch", you whisper, as if he couldn’t hear you like this.
"Ah, I knew it", Jake shakes his head, chuckling softly.
It’s almost a little intimidating, the way he looks at you now. His eyes are completely focused on you and he’s so close, you can see your own reflection in them. You watch yourself, your mouth open and closes like a helpless little fish on land, trying to find something to say that could get you out of this situation alive. But then something rustles in your ear, a static sound like someone was turning on their mic again. Instantly, your brows furrow and it’s like Jake senses that you’re trying to listen to something. Or someone.
"Answer him", Quaritch’s voice echoes in your head. His words make a puzzled face appear on you and Jake seems visible amused by this.
"E-Excuse me?", you ask, no doubt a little perplexed that Quaritch had finally decided to say something and those were his first words. How would that help you get out of this mess?
"Sully asked you a question, didn’t he?", he asks and you can almost hear the grin in his voice, "Answer him."
Question?
The adrenaline still rushes through your veins from being caught by the enemy and feeling like you’re in a life and death situation didn’t help with your memory at all.
"What question, sir?", you ask him, finally adverting your eyes from Jakes, so he won’t get the impression that you’re talking to him. But said man then hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards again. Your eyes widen when he makes a shush gesture and then reaches for the comm in your other ear to plug it into his own.
Jake can hear Quaritch sigh. He can hear him so clear now, that he hears how he licks his lips before he responds, "Did you mean what you said? Preferably all the times you teased about wanting to fuck him."
Immediately, your face flushes a deep shade of red that causes Jake to smile and Quaritch to hum in amusement. "I never said that!", you squeak in defense.
"Well, you didn’t word it exactly like that, but it definitely sounded like you wanted to", Jake says lowly. He watches the way your lips press into a thin line, your face growing more flustered and when you don’t respond to him, he takes it as a victory.
"That's it?", he teases in a husky tone, a grin spreading over his lips. "Now's when you're lost for words? Now's when you're all cute and shy?" He leans down to whisper in your ear, "You’ve been so bold all this time, what happened? I'm getting the feeling you're not as confident as you like to pretend." His voice is playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or am I wrong?"
There’s a hunger in his eyes and his tongue darts out to lick over his sharp canine. Your breath catches when Jake leans in just a little closer and now his lips are but an inch away from touching yours, soft and pink like cherries, and his eyes flash with desire.
"No, you’re– I’m, uhm I’m…", you stumble over your own words, unable to form a coherent sentence with him being so close to you, his gaze so intense, it feels like your knees are about to give in.
"She’s just a really good actress", Quaritch suddenly chimes in with a dirty laugh, "Acting all though and confident, but she turns into a cute little mess so easily, getting all shy and flustered."
"S‘that so, hm?", Jake steps forward, invading the last inch of personal space he’d left you with, so you’re chest to chest with him and his lips brush against yours as he speaks.
Something in him snaps then, when you shake your head. Jake is on you in the blink of an eye, pressing you against the nearest tree, his hips nudged between your thighs. His left hand is wrapped up in your hair, his right hand holding you still by your hips. His eyes are fiery and his lips are on yours before you can say anything.
You gasp into the kiss, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to pull him closer as you allow him to deepen the kiss. A sigh leaves your lips as Jake snakes his tongue into your mouth.
You lean into him, a soft growl escaping him as he runs his tongue along your teeth in a long, deep kiss. He holds you tight to him, his breath warm with passion. Finally, he pulls away, smiling mischievously, as his breath comes in shallow gasps. "Is that a yes?" His tone is teasing yet again, "Did you mean what you said?" The corners of his lips curl into that cocky smile, his eyes flashing with heat and amusement while he stares at your kiss-swollen lips.
"Maybe…", your voice comes out quiet, hushed in a whisper, yet there’s a hint of confidence returning to you in this moment.
"Oh you’re trouble, aren’t you? Little tease", Jake chuckles, then shakes his head, his gaze flashing back to meet yours, "Bet you love to tease all the boys, wrap them around your pretty little finger."
"Ha. She certainly does", Quaritch’s voice sends a tingling feeling through your body, "You should see her walk around the base. Our girly here sure does love skimpy dresses and shorts, don’t you?"
Even though it’s just Jake standing in front of you, it feels as if there are two pairs of eyes on you and slowly, you begin to squirm under their gaze. If it weren’t for Jake standing right in between them, you would’ve squeezed your legs together right as his hand starts to wander over your thigh. Your skin grows hot where his palm touches you and Jake seems to realize that as well.
"You should see her right now", he tells Quaritch, "She’s putty in my hands. Poor thing is probably soaking wet already." As if to prove his point, Jakes hand moves higher on your thigh, until his fingers pull away the thin fabric of your loincloth. You suck in a sharp breathe when two rough digits swipe through your folds and tease your opening.
"How long has she been working for you?", Jake asks ever so nonchalantly. There’s a pause and if it weren’t for the blood rushing behind your ears and up to your head, drowning all the other sounds, you would’ve heard the Colonels response.
Jake wasn’t even looking directly at you now, his eyes entirely fixed on his fingers that he held up in front of his face. The same ones that were between your thighs just a few seconds ago. They’re covered in your clear, sticky arousal and Jake smears it between his digits, observing, as he talks to Quaritch like they were old friends. "And you didn’t touch her once?", Jake scoffs, "You’re a cruel man. Did you really need her that desperate to get the job done?"
The absurdity of the whole situation makes your head spin. Much more so, when Jakes hand nudges itself past your loincloth again.
"You’ve been awfully quiet, cupcake", the Colonel finally directs his words at you again, snapping you out of your thoughts, "What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
Right on cue, Jake seems to have found your clit. His thumb presses down it, circling it gently and pulling a soft whimper out of you, that you’re unable to hide behind your hands clasped over your mouth. "Oh I see", he chuckles, "‘s Jakey boy making you feel good, hm?"
You couldn’t help but nod, Jakes eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t really put a name on as he watched how obedient you were to your Colonel, "Uh-hu, y-yes, sir." The words were mumbled against your palm and when Jakes index finger circled your soaking entrance, another mewl fell from your lips. He leans forward to kiss your jawline, enjoying how you don’t resist and instantly tilt your head to make room for him to move further.
"Jake", his name drips from your lips like honey, more of a breath than a proper word, "feels so good. Please I… need more." Jake pulls away from where he had been mouthing at your throat, looking into your hazy eyes. He can’t help but smirk. He’s been waiting and holding back for way too long to finally have you like this, see you like this. There was no turning back now, not with how hard he was for you.
"Yeah? You want more, pretty? Turn around and I’ll make you feel even better", he whispers against your lips. You’re eager to kiss him again, chasing his mouth when he pulls away so you can turn around and you whine in frustration.
"You heard the man", Quaritch‘s rough voice full of authority makes you still, "be a good girl and turn around. Show him how well you can listen, cupcake."
"Of course, sir", you mumble under your breath, quickly turning around and placing both hands against the tree you’ve been previously pushed against. Behind you, Jake gives a gentle spank to the backside of your thigh, wordless urging you to spread them, so you do.
"And here I thought I should be a gentleman with you. Now look at you, spreading you legs for the enemy like a little slut", Jake said as he flipped your loincloth up to expose yourself to him. He groans at the sight, your glistening folds completely on display before him. You hear the rustling of him untying his own loincloth, cursing your current position because you’re unable to see how it falls to the ground.
"I would’ve bend you over my desk weeks ago if I had known what a filthy girl you are", the Colonel laughs in your ear.
"m‘not filthy", you protest weakly. Jakes hands hold a firm grip on your hips while he teasingly runs the tip of his cock along your entrance a few times, testing your wetness. You bite your lip to suppress the needy groan from escaping your lips at the feel of your arousal dripping out of you and slickening up his cock. Once he‘d lined the mushroom-like head up with your entrance, he carefully moves forward. You can’t help but moan softly when you feel him stretch you inch by inch, a sound that makes both men shudder simultaneously.
"Yes you are", Quaritch scoffs, "Making all these cute sounds for the man you should want dead."
Surprisingly, Jake ignores him. He takes his time, savoring how you tremble beneath him, how you hold your breath until he was fully seated within your tight little cunt. He blows out a breath against your neck and you whimper.
"F-Fuck, it’s so big", you moan, your head now hanging low between your outstretched arms. And then Jake begins to move, drawing back all the way before slamming home. You gasp, like he pushed those noises out of you by the force if his thrusts.
"You hear that, Quaritch? I‘m gonna ruin her for you", Jake groans mockingly, the sounds of his hips snapping against yours travel through the communication device and straight to the Colonels ears, that are pinned back against his head.
"Good luck trying, Sully", he chuckles, yet there’s a hint of anger in his voice. This would have to wait until he was done with you, Jake thought, completely unfazed. If anything, it seemed like he was only spurring him on more like this.
Jake was drilling his cock into you hard and fast. The force of his thrusts was starting to lift your feet off the ground with every powerful thrust, shaking your entire body with pleasure. You could feel your senses beginning to blur, your heart thrumming loudly in your chest as your walls clenched around his length.
All the while, Jake was completely transfixed by the sight of his pelvis smacking against your plump ass, your soft flesh bouncing against him.
"Jesus, look at you, baby. Taking this cock like you’re made for it", he said with a sharp grin, cursing between groans. You feel the grip on your hips tightening, moaning louder when the tip of his cock repeatedly brushes against your sweet spots.
"Oh fuck, fuck, Jake right t-there, yes", you chant, not caring for the way you must sound to them.
"Oh cupcake, you just wait till your back at the base", Quaritch sighs, barely audible over your desperate moans, "I‘m gonna give you a real nice punishment for this, bend you over my knee and show you it’s best not to rile me up for weeks just to go and fuck Jake Sully instead."
"What? You’re not touching yourself to her moaning my name?", Jake laughs mockingly, obviously trying his luck with the Colonel. Meanwhile, you swear you could feel him in your stomach, the head of his cock bruising hard against your cervix again and again, while he talks to Quaritch like nothing‘s even happening.
"Ha, keep dreaming. I‘m not going to cum into my fist like a pathetic looser. I‘m not you." The air around you begins to feel electric, the tension between them growing thicker by the second but you’re barely able to keep up with their conversation.
"No, if I cum, it’s going to be either down her throat or inside that pretty little pussy", Quaritch growls and Jake doesn’t miss the way you squeeze his cock at his words. A waterfall of moans and curses fall from your lips when angles his hips higher, his pace increasing to a point where it felt like he was splitting you in two.
"You hear that?", Jake taunts, "I think all that talking of coming inside her got our girly a little too excited." One of his hands loosens the grip on your hips to snake itself to your front and between your thighs, feeling for your throbbing clit. You whimper when he tabs two of his fingers against it a few times and then starts to draw tight circles around the little nub.
"That true? You’re going to come, huh?", the Colonels voice is hot in you ear, causing a shiver to run through your body.
"Hmh, yes sir!", you hum, desperately pushing yourself back to meet Jakes thrusts, "So close, I’m so close!" The man behind you groans when he feels your need, your sweet arousal pooling around his cock and running down his balls.
"You’re gonna have to ask first, girly", Quaritch chuckles, "You’re not going to cum without permission from your Colonel."
"Please, please c-can I come? Please, sir I can’t hold it!" You almost sob when Jake rubs your clit faster, not showing any mercy, as if he was trying to see how long you could stay put. A mean chuckle finally redeems you then, "Go ahead then, Jake. Make our little slut cum."
And that he did.
The grip on your hips is hard enough to bruise as he fucks into you. It feels like Jake was letting himself fully go now, not caring for how loud you were moaning his name, how red the cheeks of your ass had gotten from slapping against his pelvic bone and how your legs begin to buckle under the sheer force of his thrusts.
"Glad to see you’re still listening to some of my orders, Corporal." You hear Quaritch’s voice but you can barely pick up what he’s saying to Jake, too lost in the sensation of your rapidly building orgasm.
"Don’t get f-fucking used to it", he grits out. His response is followed by a deep groan, almost a growl and you feel his cock throb inside you. All your senses black out at once when your orgasm crashes through you. If it weren’t for Jakes hands holding you tight and his thrusts forcing you against the tree, you would’ve collapsed.
Jake curses under his breath and with one particular hard slam, you then feel his hot cum fill you to the brim, trickling down your thighs, almost feeling as if it lasts ages as the warm stream dies to a trickle.
"Holy shit", Jake’s hot panting bring you back to reality as his fingers loosen around your middle. His cock is still twitching so deep inside you, pulsing heavenly. The moment he finally slides out leaves you almost disappointed, empty, and when his hands leave your sides, you let yourself slide down against the tree, until your knees hit the moosy forest floor with a soft thud.
Looking up at him, you’re met with a smug grin from Jake, skin glistening from sweat, board chest heaving but caught quickly. He’s glorious in his after sex sheen and you swallow thickly when your eyes lock.
One of his hands then reaches out to caress your cheek, almost affectionately, and as you lean against his palm you realize, that his lips had been moving and that he was talking to Quaritch again.
"Come and pick her up. You know where", is the first thing your fried brain can make out, having completely missed what either of them had said before that.
So Jake wasn’t going to kill you? Take you hostage? He was willingly letting you go?
There’s a long pause with neither one of them saying anything, just Jake winking at you when he realizes the questioning look on your face. He’s also the first to break the silence with a dark chuckle, "Don’t worry. I won’t be here when you show up." There’s another pause in which Jake licks his lips, "Lucky for you, because I aim better after a good fuck."
Quaritch then laughs and you can practically feel your face flush red in embarrassment. "Lucky for you, Sully. That little minx has me walking around with blue balls for way too long now. And I aim twice as good when I‘m mad."
You breath is caught in your throat at his words, the only thing keeping you from saying or doing anything to protest, was Jakes hand still cupping your face, his thumb gently swiping over your bottom lip.
"Don’t be too hard on her", he sighs, "Would be a shame to see that cute ass littered in bruises the shape of your hand."
"What gives you the impression that you’re going to see her again, Corporal?" The mocking tone in the Colonels voice had disappeared almost completely now and the danger of it made goosebumps appear on your skin. Still, it’s not enough to faze Jake, not even in the slightest.
"Worried I'll steal her away?", Jake grins at you, his tail curling behind his back.
"No", Quaritch huffs out a breath, "But I keep close tabs on what's mine."
It’s the last thing that Jake hears, before the line goes dead, cutting him off from all communication to the RDA.
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hyperfixat · 7 months
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day 14 of ai less whumptober: No Anesthesia
supporting these posts helps encourage my writing and creating, thanks!
(@ailesswhumptober)
The sound of one of your joints popping and the breaking of a bone are terribly similar.  Too similar, in fact.  The brothers have broken many bones in their infinite time. 
The first snap, crackle, pop of your joints had made everyone in the room freeze.  Leviathan, in the middle of talking about some new limited Ruri-chan figure, stopped.  All seven pairs of eyes stare at you in horror.
 Did the human die?  Are they broken?  Fragile thing, what would Lord Diavolo say?  
You freeze as well, hands intertwined and held above your head.
Lucifer seems to have gotten even paler than his usual pale-ness.  Mammon’s gaze catches yours and is filled with absolute horror, and Asmo.  Asmodeus looks on the verge of illness, eyes wide and face sickly gray.
“Ohmygod,” Levi breathes out in absolute shock.
“What’s wrong?” You’re a little nervous at their odd behavior, and as to what happened to make their moods flip so suddenly.
“Are you okay?”  Satan is on his feet, walking over to you, attempting to inspect you for any injuries.  Mammon flies to his feet as well.
“Hey, hey hands to yourself!  The Great Mammon can do that.”  He pushes Satan aside without any real force.  Together their hands and eyes cover you, like a TSA pat down.
“Does anything hurt?”  Lucifer asks while you’re nearly being groped.
“No?”  Confusion fills your voice.
A worried whimper comes out of Beel and he turns to Belphie, “so bad it’s numb.”  You think you hear him say.
“Nothing seems broken,” Satan says, he’s squatting down to check your legs and feet.  He lifts himself to standing.  His eyes are somber as he gently takes hold of your shoulders.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Mammon shifts on his feet behind you, hand brushing over your shoulder blades, where you popped.
“Yeah?  I was just stretching…”
Asmo inches over to you, crawling on the floor slowly like you’re a landmine that could detonate at any second.
“You cracked.”  It’s an accusation.  Lucifer near glowers at you.
“It happens.”  You shrug.
“No it doesn’t,” Lucifer glares this time.
“Maybe not to you, but it’s normal,” you side eye him.  
A hand on the hem of your pants.  Asmo looks up at you, horror still plastered on his face.
Dramatic.
You pat his head and some color returns to his face.
“What happened then?”  Belphegor challenges you.
“I cracked my back.”
“How?”  Mammon’s jaw drops.  “That’s horrible.”
“It feels good.”  You defend.  “You guys can’t crack things?”
“No!”  Asmo cries out.  “That sounded horrendous.”
“Oh.”
It’s confusing, demons and angels don’t make sounds like that.  No one hasn’t let themself grow used to the noise, they’ll never let themselves.  Because the haunting what if? will never leave.
Eyes always fly to you the second one of your bones shift; it’s sweet they care, but they’re worried over nothing!  You’ve never broken a bone, ever.
You jinxed yourself.
Today you broke a bone.  Well, you’re pretty sure you’ve at least done something you shouldn’t have to your bone.  The splintered edge of the bone sticks out gruesomely from your forearm.  Yeah, that’s not normal.
Blood drips onto the bathroom floor and you don’t know why you aren’t crying right now.  The demon had handled you too roughly.  Shoved you out of the way too hard and you hit the air dryer bolted into the wall then this happened.
They had looked at you with a mixture of shock and fear as the sickening crunch of your arm registered, and the coppery scent of blood began filling the air.  Panic took over the stranger and they ran out of the bathroom, leaving you to sit on the floor and stare in shock at your horrible looking arm.
Your stomach churns and you look towards the ceiling and blink to try and clear your mind.
The demon fled the second his actions dawned upon them, fleeing the scene of the crime.  Smart fella.
The scent of blood permeates the air and you know you won’t be alone for long.  A hungry demon is bound to find you the way you are just bleeding.
And just as the thought hits you, the bathroom door flies open and Asmo is rushing towards you.  Concern and panic lace his features as he places a gentle hand on your injured arm.  You wince.
“Sorry, dear, but I need to get this tied off.”  His voice is sweet and your head rolls to the side as you relax, because your Asmo is here.  Things’ll be alright now.  Mammon stands anxiously behind him, avoiding looking at your wound.  
The bathroom door has swung closed again and you relish in the privacy of having you Asmo and Mammon take care of you.
“Oh, who did this, MC?” Asmo keeps the lilt in his voice, although it is strained.  “Hmm?  Who would hurt you?”  Golden eyes attempting to meet yours.
You crane your head further back to avoid the lure of Asmodeus’ eyes, “it was an accident.” 
There’s a tug at the junction of your elbow. 
He makes a displeased hum, “Mammon, fetch Satan for me, he’ll know how to fix this better than me.  Oh, Barbatos too if you happen across him.”
Mammon gives your uninjured arm a pat and follows orders.
“Alright sweetheart,” Asmo kisses your cheek, “this might hurt a bit.  I’m gonna have a little bit of help to fix your arm up.  You’re in good hands, doll.”
You hear ripping fabric then have to hold back a scream as Asmo begins to wrap the exposed gore.
“I know,” he sighs sympathetically.  “I know.”  He keeps it tight on your arm and you take some deep breaths.
The door swings back open and Satan and Mammon come in, Barbatos in tow.  Satan’s face twists into a grimace as the scent registers.  The two that Mammon fetched kneel at your sides adjacent to Asmo, Barbatos tears his white gloves off and takes hold of your upper arm, applying firm pressure.
“Fuck,” Satan hisses out, fidiling with his pockets.  He pulls out something silver and metallic and you wince and turn away.  
When you do so you bump your face into Mammon’s chest, where he’d taken to holding you steady.
You do your best to keep quiet when you feel them begin to work on your arm, but you can’t help a pained, breathless moan.
“Sorry, your pain cannot be helped,” Barbatos puts his bare hand on your knee and attempts to give it a comforting squeeze.  It doesn’t do much, but you're grateful.
You feel sharpness cutting away at flesh and muscle.  Your eyes bulge and you grip Mammon’s forearm with all the strength you can muster.
Fuck, it hurts so bad, it’s all you can do not to scream or passout.
“Shh,” Asmo soothes, you peek an eye open and glare at him.
“I can’t,” you stutter out.
“Yes you can, I’m almost done.” Satan says, voice plain.
You feel Barbatos stand and walk to the dryer you were shoved into.  Peeking out the corner of your eye you see him crouch and investigate.  His bloodied white glove runs through the half dried viscera painting the floor.  You’re torn away from watching him when a new pain rocks through your nerves. 
A sharp crunch resonates through your body as Asmodeus and Satan shove your bone back into place.  You let out a hoarse squeal and there’s a fresh round of hushing from Asmo and Mammon.  Your breaths come in wheezing bursts and Barbatos comes to kneel a bit in front of you.
“I trust these  three with fixing you up for now.  I must report this to the Young Master.”  Barbatos gives a sympathetic smile and stands to leave.  “I will tend to you at a later point, MC.”
A sharp, pointed pain in, and a sharp pain out.  Steeling your nerves you peek at your newly shoved back inside arm to see Asmo sewing your flesh shut as Satan holds it closed.
It takes an excruciatingly long three minutes for them to finish and tie off the stitches.
“Now, darling,” Asmo’s stained hand reaches to cup your jaw, “when we get home, we’ll talk about finding whoever did this to you.”
“Don’t be too harsh now, Asmodeus.”  Satan chides, holding your injured arm soothingly.  “They’re sure to be in a lot of pain right now.  Save that conversation for when they’re feeling better, okay?”  When he finishes the sentence, he nuzzles into the side of your head affectionately.  
“Let’s get you home now,” Asmo says, blatantly ignoring his older brother.
As Mammon helps you to your feet he speaks, “we should probably stop by the student council office and let Lucifer know that they’ll be missing from classes.  And,” Mammon turns his attention to you.  “Don’t you worry, the Great Mammon will be with you the whole time you’re healin’ up!”
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fir3ylolol · 6 months
Text
i'll have what she's having
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pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader
summary: Johnny has insisted that you match with him at his Halloween party, which you obliged. but he's acting sort of weird? wonder what's up with him...
tw: mentions of drinking
a/n: i was inspired by @sillygooselulu to write a little fluff, and why not make it Halloween-themed! first real attempt at fluff which was kinda fun :) but don't worry, the 100-follower special should be out soon!
word count: 1.21 k
Ao3
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You put on the last part of your Halloween costume and look in the mirror. Smoothing your pants, you turn and admire how you look. A pair of brown shoes, high-waisted jeans, a red turtleneck, and a brown blazer. Of course, ever the film nerd, Johnny wanted to go as Harry and Sally. You walk to your bathroom to finish your hair and face, sitting down with a huff. You had no idea where Johnny was, leaving you to get ready by yourself. You curl your hair into loose, tease out 80’s curls, and apply a wine-colored gloss to your lips.
You notice your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter and pick it up quickly. Johnny’s cheesy grin flashes across your screen and you pick up quickly. “Hey, you picked up! Where are you? You on your way yet?” He’s almost yelling in your ear, and you back the phone away from your ear. “I just finished, I’ll be there soon. You feeling good?” you manage to say without a laugh, his volume a clear indication that he’s already started to party. “I feel great! Hurry up and get over here!”
“Fine, fine, I’ll leave now then.” You grab your large leathery bag, which Johnny insisted on for “accuracy”. “Woohoo! I’ll see you soon!” He cheers, and abruptly hangs up. Sighing lightly, you leave to his place, LA traffic is not any better than usual. It takes about 30 minutes to get there, and when you do, you notice how many cars are in the driveway. There are at least 50, blocking areas and creating a maze. But, ever the gentleman, Johnny runs out, waving his garage controls above his head. He slightly runs into the car and sticks his head through the window. “You’re here! Go ahead, park in the garage. I’ll see you inside, ok? Bye!” He leaves before you can get a word out, leaving you in a stunned state.
You shake out of it, and pull into his garage quickly, walking into the house through that door. It is loud inside, with bass vibrating the floor and shot glasses tipped over on the counter. You shuffle through the crowd in front of you, searching for Johnny. And there he is, sitting on the couch and laughing loudly with more people than you think the furniture can handle. But he sees you and bolts up. In a large, white cable-knit sweater and jeans, he wraps you up in a hug. “Yay! My other half is here, guys!” He turns you towards the crowd, which loudly cheers for him.
He lets go of you and holds one of your hands, smiling widely. “I missed you,” he giggles out. “How much have you had to drink?” You touch a hand to his red cheeks, which he hisses at. “Your hands are too cold. But I’ve only had a little.” You start to drag him towards a balcony, and he follows behind you with shuffling steps. “Come on, you need fresh air,” you open the glass door and get him outside, shutting the door behind him.
“Ugh, fine,” he leans against the waist-height wall and looks out over Malibu. You stand beside him, wrapping an arm around him in a light hug. He turns to look at you, smiling just as wide as before, with slightly less red cheeks. “You know, you’re always so nice. I like having you around,” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “I like being around man, it’s fun.” You laugh lightly as your face is shoved into his chest, pushing away a little.
Johnny pauses, face slightly dropping as he looks out again. “Hey, can I tell you something? Like, can you promise you won’t leave after I say it?” He sounds slightly serious, but drops it quickly, “Since people will keep asking why I didn’t dress up.” Taken slightly aback by his words, you try to join him in lightening the mood. “Unless you killed someone, I’m staying right here.” He pauses a little too long, and you panic slightly. “Y-you didn’t kill anyone, right??” He turns to you and laughs hard, leaning forward over the wall. “No! Why would I do that? God, you’re funny.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, you weren’t ready to keep a secret like that.
But he grows serious again, letting out what sounds like a nervous breath. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, and I really like hanging out with you. You’ve stuck by me, even when my movies weren’t that successful.” He’s trying to lighten the mood again, but it’s not working. He coughs slightly, then continues. “Hold on, I memorized my lines.” Confused, you cock an eyebrow at him, but you’re used to his strange antics. He takes a deep breath and starts talking again. “I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes.” Your face slightly drops, and you recognize what he’s saying. It’s the speech at the end of ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ He continues, “And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's Halloween.”
He grabs both your hands, his grasp tight as he finishes, “I wanted you here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” You’re in shock again, taking a long time to process all of this. But he stands there, uncharacteristically nervous. God, how much did he have to drink tonight? He tends to be a little less careful when he’s stressed, and if his nerves now are indicative, he is close to wasted. You snap out of it, and look into his eyes, finally smiling. “Johnny, you really had to quote a movie to confess?” He lets out a breath, shoulders falling forward. “Don’t tease! You’re just so cool, and attractive, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. So I figured I could maybe pass this off as part of my character, and not something I was saying.”
“Wait, is this why you really wanted us to dress up as Harry and Sally?” He wraps his arms around you tight, snuggling into your neck. “Maybe…was it bad?” You hug him back, hands tracing along his back. “Nah, it was cute. Nerdy, but cute.” Huffing, he pulls away, “You could’ve left it at cute.” But he pauses again, searching your face quickly. “So…do you wanna…be with me?” You smile and cup his face in one hand, bringing him in for a kiss. He melts into you, arms wrapping around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. You feel him smile, holding you tight against him. He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”
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ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
hi i love your writing!! can i request hotch x reader where he did a press conference or something on the news (i just watched the halloween one in s10 he looked fiiiine) and then reader runs into him in public and recognises him ty in advance
Perhaps you should have taken his casual attire as a sign that he wasn't on duty, but you can't stop yourself from blanching at the sight of the man stepping up to the counter before you. Hotchner was his name? Agent Hotchner?
"You're the man from the news," You blurt, before he's even able to get his coffee order out. He looks somewhat taken aback, dark eyes widened slightly, and you're sure it's not often that he's ambushed by his baristas, and you clear your throat, "I- sorry, I just- I saw you last night on tv."
"Our press conference," He's skilled at overlooking your awkward interjection, nodding with the hint of a smile on his face, "I'm glad you were tuned in to the news and stayed safe."
"Did you catch him?" You ask, coffee long forgotten. You'd been a nervous wreck at the announcement of a serial killer in your town, a real serial killer killing real people like you, and you almost hadn't shown up for work today out of anxiety.
"We did," He nods, "He's safely locked away. And he will be for a long time, I promise."
"Thank you," You breathe, palpable relief in your tone, "Thank you, I- I can't even imagine how scary it must be to chase after people like that, but thank you for doing it."
His brows raise and his eyes flood with gratitude, something you hope is visible in your own gaze. Evidently, he doesn't get this very often.
"It's my job," He smiles fully now, settling into his place at the counter as customers come and go on either side of him, "There's no need to thank me."
"It's a job you chose," You counter, "I was really- it was scary, thinking that he was out there. That I might be next, that my friend might, that my mom might. I do need to thank you for that."
"You're safe now," He promises, and something about the honey-sweet tone of voice he uses makes you truly believe it.
"I'm sorry for holding you up," You apologize after a beat of comfortable silence, refocused on the screen in front of you, "What can I get for you, sir?"
"A medium coffee. Black, please." He recites, "And a cheese, egg, and ham sandwich, if you've still got any."
"That'll be all?" You verify, punching his order into the computer. He nods with a smile, already pulling out his wallet.
"Oh, no sir," You clear his total, pulling from your tip jar to cover the cost of his order, "I'd feel guilty for charging you. You helped a lot of people, your order is free."
"I insist-" He tries, moving his card towards the scanner, but you tug the appliance away.
"I insist," You stand your ground, "Please, I'm going to be able to get home safely tonight thanks to you, I have no problem giving you a free coffee."
"A sandwich, too." He reminds you, "You're very kind, but I can't take free food. Please, let me pay for one of the items?"
"My treat." You slide bills into the register, triumphant when his shoulders sag and a sheepish smile overtakes his face as he slides his card back into his wallet.
"Thank you," He returns your gratitude, eyes the color of his coffee somehow sweeter than sugar "I appreciate it. I meant it before, you're very kind."
You're happy that the breakfast sandwiches are stored behind you, because it gives you a chance to hide the way your face contorts into a bashful grin as you prepare his order. Now that the fear of being attacked is out of your head, you're able to marvel at the man's looks, something you'd tried tamping down to focus on bigger issues at hand. A smile suits him, and so does a t-shirt and jeans, and you're glad you got to see a side of him that isn't grim and grey.
"Thank you," He beams when you return with his order, simple enough that you'd made it while he stood at your register, "Have a great rest of your day."
"You too, sir." You nod, trying not to react when his fingertips brush your hand, and you applaud yourself for keeping your composure until he's safely out of the building.
That same composure breaks when you're emptying your tip jar for the day, counting out each bill to stuff them in your wallet and grocery shop for the week. A wad of them falls out that you're fairly certain you didn't see anyone drop off, and it's revealed to be three $20 bills with a stiff piece of cardstock in the middle.
You're momentarily horrified that someone dropped the wrong amount in, put in the contents of their wallet when they meant to leave a $5, but the name on the card hits you like a semi-truck.
SSA Aaron Hotchner.
Damn that man, he must have slipped the cash into your jar while your back was turned. You'd been trying to save him $7 for the coffee and the sandwich, and he treated you to a cart of groceries instead.
You flip the card to find his number, not sure if you're brave enough to call and give him a speech that's half thankful and half scolding. But there's pen scrawled on the back, and you squint to read the print.
'Don't try returning the tip, I won't take it back. Thank you for being so kind, and if you ever need a favor, you know who to call. - Agent Hotchner'
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tizeline · 1 month
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I’ve never seen a separated au with Leo being raised by big mama, what do you think that would be like? (Since he’s kinda rebellious)
For the record, there are AUs where Leo's been raised by Big Mama, the ones I know of are Gemini AU by tangledinink and True Colors AU by v-albion. I'm not super familiar with either of them, but they're there if you wanna check them out.
That being said-
LEO being raised by BIG MAMA omg I have THOUGHTS
Listen, I don't see enough people compare Leo to Big Mama, but he's quite similar to her. Splinter and BM never got a kid together, BUT IF THEY DID that kid would literally be Leo he's basically just a fusion of the two of them!!
As I've mentioned several times before because I love bringing it up, Leo is strategic, quick-witted, observant and good at talking. In the show (as well as in my own AU) Leo's strengths aren't really recognized, let alone aknowledged for a big portion of the story. Because of that, for a long time he doesn't really get the chance to develop these skills, as much potential Leo has to become a master planner his impulsiveness and inexperience has a tendency to get him into trouble.
BUT! All of these skills also happen to be skills that Big Mama has and would value in Leo. So if he were to actually have to opportunity to not only be raised by BM but also trained by her for his entire life. If he got to properly learn strategy, planning, manipulation...?
... Holy shit Leo would be terrifying.
Think about it, canon!Leo managed to out-smart BM in Many Unhappy Returns without any real experience, just imagine what he could do with a whole life-time of training.... yikes!
Not sure what exactly Big Mama and Leo's relationship would look like. In my opinion she would view him as her son and love him dearly, especially if she knew that he's Splinter's biological son.... it's just that BM has interesting ways of showing affection. ("The love of my life just proposed to me?? Great! I'm gonna lock him up in my gladiator fighting ring for the rest of eternity!") She'd at the very least be quite controlling, I imagine.
As you pointed out, Leo can be quite rebellious, so that mixed with Big Mama's obsessive need to be in complete control of everyone around her would certainly cause some tension. Actually... considering how clever Leo would be in this AU... uh oh.
All of these qualities that BM initially appreciated and encouraged in Leo, what if, as Leo became more and more capable, Big Mama started to eventually view them in a more negative light? If she feels like she's loosing control over Leo, if she interprets Leo's rebellion as not just a normal teenage need for independence but rather him malicously working against her. What if she starts viewing him not as an asset or as a tool, but rather a threat?
If BM has reason to believe that Leo might try to overthrow her and take control over her criminal empire, she might take preemptive action and get rid of him before he has the chance to get rid of her.... Not like murder-get-rid-of, I don't think she'd just kill him, lol! But like lock him up, maybe throw him into the Battle Nexus, I dunno. Anything that would allow her to remain in control of both him and her business.
As for Leo, maybe he would actually try to overthrow BM. Considering he was raised by a literal mafia boss, his moral compass is gonna be a bit wack. Maybe Leo's desire for control over himself would cause him to try to seize control over his mother's business. Oooooorrrrr maybe Leo just wants some independance but doesn't actually want to compete with BM, so when she interprets his actions and behavior as malicious he's not prepared for that at all and, as a result, is more than a little hurt that his own mother would take such extreme actions against him. Who knows?
Hhhhhhh there's a lot of fun posibilities here but MAN I'm not really in the mood to work on an entirely new AU. Maybe I'll create some art for it I dunno, this concept is really fun, but I'm not gonna turn this into a proper Thing, so if anyone else wanna steal this concept and explore it for themselves, feel more than free to do that!
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babydollmarauders · 8 months
Text
OURS — TREVOR ZEGRAS
trevor zegras x fem!reader
part of the Speak Now Fic List
summary: in which y/n and Trevor’s relationship is constantly being criticized by outsiders but they know their love is real.
warnings: references to nsfw activities, hate from outsiders, dialogue heavy, not proofread
notes: written semi-quickly, shorter than my other recent works, idk how i feel about this one, but it’s done and i hope y’all like it. ending is kinda iffy but oh well.
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it seems like there’s always someone who disapproves of Trevor and i’s relationship.
my parents don’t like his carefree and confident demeanor. his younger brother didn’t trust me because i was someone new. his friends didn’t like that i write songs about exes and my relationships.
but most of all his fans and the media, judge us like they know us personally.
mostly judging me.
as a singer, my every move was criticized and picked apart. what i wore was either too homely or too dressed up. i was too skinny or too big. my heels were too tall, but then my nike’s were too ‘tom-boyish’. but the judgement had only seemed to get worse once i started dating Trevor.
suddenly his fans were saying i wasn’t good enough for him. analyzing our body language in photos and claiming that i didn’t act like i liked him. saying i was using him to further my fame.
but on the other side, i had my fans commenting that i was too good for him. citing his previous playboy ways and saying that he wasn’t smart enough or mature enough for me. claiming his bad boy attitude drew me in and that i would ‘come to my senses’ soon.
***
y/nofficial
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liked by trevorzegras, gracieabrams, and 151,308 others
y/nofficial summer with my boy toy <3
tagged trevorzegras
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trevorzegras my beautiful girl, you were off to a great start in the beginning and then you added the last photo
y/nofficial wdym? i think that ones my favorite!
trevorzegras whatever floats your boat mamas
gracieabrams cutest couple in the world ♥️
y/nofficial you’re the real loml <3
gracieabrams shhh i thought we weren’t telling trevor?
user26 NEW MUSIC COMING SOON?!
user81 i wonder if it’s about Trevor
jackhughes was i cut out of the last pic?! i thought you loved me, y/n 😪
y/nofficial in the wise words of Ariana Grande “you ain’t my boyfriend”
user40 the way she’s leaning away from him in the 5th pic? oh she’s over him
user95 she’s finally over the bad boy thing, i guess
user02 thank god! i don’t want her to get hurt!
user73 @/user02 HER to get hurt?! she’s gonna end up writing a slandering song about my baby Trevor and painting him to be an asshole
user02 @/user73 lmao yeah, well the shoe fits. why shouldn’t she write a song showcasing his true colors?
user73 @/user02 i’m not about to fight with a Y/N stan of all people— have fun supporting your famefucker
user02 @/user73 oh please, she doesnt need to use your little hockey asshole for fame when she’s already more well known than him
user12 we love a PR relationship 🫶
***
my converse squeak against the marble floors as i leave my execs meeting, catching the attention of many up and coming artists that are waiting in the lobby. i can feel their gazes following my every move, from when i stop in front of the elevator to when i press the down button, and i can’t help but laugh in my head; reminiscing of when i was the same way. star-struck and in awe whenever i saw any artists leaving the same doors i just walked out of.
but now, having been in the business for two years, that feeling has come and gone, replaced by small talk with those very same people that i once looked up to.
“hi.” i smile politely at a redheaded girl that sits close to the elevators, a notebook in her hand and stars in her eyes.
she looks around, as if searching, before she lets out an awkward chuckle. “oh- hi!”
the elevator dings twice before the doors open to another crowd of wannabe pop stars, and i step aside to let them out before waving a goodbye to the doe-eyed redhead and stepping into the elevator.
i’m excited to get back to my boyfriend, but that excitement vanishes when i scroll through twitter on my uber home.
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oh- that was fast.
i can’t help but scroll through the replies and quote tweets, and by the time i arrive back home, i’m disheartened to say the least.
i thought i was being nice by greeting her? even if i couldn’t stay and talk. but apparently i should take this as a lesson for the future, don’t say hi to anyone unless i can stay and chat.
and my mood only worsens when i make it into the house, calling out my boyfriend’s name, to which i get no response.
“Trev?” my voice echoes off the walls of our home as i step into our bedroom, in search of the six foot tall hockey player. but i come up empty, finding that he still isn’t home from training camp.
i slide my phone from my pocket, drafting up a text before ultimately trying my luck at a phone call instead.
the outgoing ring reaches my ear twice before it stops, the call picking up.
“hey babe, what’s up?” Trevor’s tone is light and airy, painting an immediate smile across my lips.
“hey, i was just checking in.” i sit upon the fuzzy white blanket that’s folded along the foot of our bed, running my hands over the soft fabric. “i thought training was supposed to end at noon?”
“oh, yeah, it did.” he confirms, and i can hear someone else talking in the background. “Jimbo and i decided to grab lunch and catch up a bit.”
“oh, okay.” i nod, despite the fact that he can’t see me, and i can hear him conversing with someone.
“shh. hold on.” he tells someone. “he wants to say hi.”
i laugh as Jamie’s voice comes through the line. “HEY Y/N!!!”
“hi Jame!” i reply, listening as he grunts, wrestling the phone from Trevor, i assume.
“i’ve missed you!” he sounds closer now, while Trevor sounds farther away, calling out for his phone back, confirming my suspicions. “when do i get to see you again?”
“i’ve missed you too. if it’s alright with Trevor, and if you’re free, you can come over for dinner tonight?” i tell him. “i can go to the store and grab stuff to make my garlic and basil chicken pasta.”
“oh my favorite! i’m in! i don’t care what Trevor has to say about it, to be honest.” his response causes me to laugh, while my boyfriends calls out an offended ‘hey!’
“see you later!” Jamie yells, as i assume Trevor gets his phone back.
“did you need anything else, babe?” Trevor asks distractedly.
“no, nothin’ else.” i stand, gathering my car keys from my nightstand. “actually, i’m gonna go grocery shopping, can you think of anything we need?”
“condoms,” he replies unabashed, and i blush at the thought that Jamie heard him. “and frosted flakes. i finished ‘em off this morning.”
i roll my eyes before teasing, “the condoms or the frosted flakes?”
“both.” my skin heats up at the reminder of our morning activities, Trevor having woken me up before the sun even came up.
“oh- uh- okay.” Trevor laughs as i stumble over my words. “i’ll grab some more…of both.”
“thanks, love you!” he waits for my reply before hanging up, and i pad out of the bedroom, slipping my shoes back on by the front door before heading out to my car. i wasn’t big on driving, usually letting Trevor take that responsibility, and avoiding it when possible, so i only really used it when i had to go grocery shopping, relying on ubers to go anywhere else.
i slip into the drivers seat, huffing when i find that Trevor messed with my seat again. a harmless prank he likes to pull, just to see when i drive again and if i’ll notice. i adjust my seat before i pull out of the driveway, the radio playing faintly to fill the silence.
*
i’m nearly done with my shopping trip when it happens.
“he still uses those?” i’m mid-tossing the family size box of Frosted Flakes in the cart when the words reach my ears, and at first, i don’t even notice they’re being spoken to me. “he always said it felt like he was wearing nothing.”
i glance over to find a tall blonde standing next to my cart, staring down at my items.
“i’m sorry?” my brows furrow in confusion.
“oh- the condoms. Skyn Elite? Trevor used them back when he and i used to hook up a couple years ago.” the girl smiles, the supermarket lights reflecting off her sparkly lip gloss. “you’re his new conquest, right? y/n?”
“i’m his girlfriend, yes.” i nod, pursing my lips together in a straight line.
“right,” she nods. “girlfriend. you got the envied title.”
“i guess so.”
she gives another falsely innocent smile. “good luck keeping it! he’s insatiable, is he not? seemed like he was always keeping an eye out for the next girl.”
i’ve never particularly cared about the ghosts of Trevor’s hookup past. why would i be? i had them too, so who was i to be bothered by his? besides, right now, he’s mine. i’m the one he comes home to; the one he loves and talks about a future with.
“well, i should get going.” i tell her, already beginning to push the cart towards the end of the aisle, in route to check out. “it was nice to meet you.”
i was lying, sure, but i wasn’t going to let her get to me.
she bids me goodbye as i walk away, and when i glance back, i see her faux smile drop, her eyes rolling as she sneers, turning the other way.
yeah, i pretty much expected that.
*
i’ve just made it into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter, when my phone begins to ring, buzzing in my pocket with an incoming call.
i do an awkward dance of trying to free my hand from a twisted bag handle, before retrieving the vibrating device from my pocket, my fathers contact taking up the screen. pressing accept, i hold the phone up to my ear.
“hey, dad!” i chirp, opening the refrigerator to begin unloading the food.
“hey, pumpkin. what are you up to?” his voice drifts in my ear as i put away a gallon of milk.
“just unloading groceries.” i inform him. “what are you and mom doing?”
“oh, nothing.” he sighs. “just missing our little girl.”
i laugh at his dramatics.
“i know, i need to come visit.” i stuff a few cartons of berries and a bag of grapes into the fruit drawer before shutting the fridge.
“so catch me up, honey. what’s new?”
“nothing really. i’m working on some new music, and i had an exec meeting this morning to discuss how the album is coming. but other than that it’s same old same old.”
i open the cupboard, taking care of the box of cereal and a couple bags of chips as i speak.
“and you’re still dating the uh…” he trails off. “the one with the tattoos?”
i can hear the disapproval oozing from his voice and my eyes roll in my head.
“Trevor, yes.” i confirm, walking down the hallway to our bedroom and placing a few things on Trevor’s nightstand before setting a new bottle of shampoo on our bathroom counter.
“yeah, him.” he sneers, and it’s then that i hear the front door open, two sets of footsteps reaching my ears. a smile spreads across my face as Trevor calls out my name. “i don’t understand why anyone would do that to their body. that’s permanent, ya know.”
“mhm.” i hum in disinterest. “hey, dad, i gotta go. i’ll call you later.”
“oh alright, honey. love you!”
“love you too.” i hang up the phone as Trevor steps into the room, smiling at the sight of me.
“there you are.” he beams. his arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him, and his head dips down to bring his lips to mine.
“here i am.” i mumble against his lips, causing a chuckle to arise from his throat.
“Jamie is in the living room. followed me home claiming that he had to see you.” he tells me, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his close friend.
“yeah, i invited him over for dinner.” i inform him. my hands cup the back of his neck, pulling him back down for another kiss.
my whole body relaxes, any tension disappearing when his lips meet mine. his eyes scan my face as he pulls away, and his faces falls, his lips forming an exaggerated frown.
“what’s wrong?” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before pulling my head to his chest.
his heartbeat echoes in my head, calming me immensely.
“nothing.” i mutter, my eyes falling shut when he begins rubbing circles on my back.
“i don’t believe you.”
“it’s nothing, really.” i insist. “nothing that’s actually bothering me. just a little annoyed.”
“what annoyed you, baby?” he sways us back and forth and his hand on my back trails down to tickle at my side, making me giggle.
“well,” i sigh and he pushes me back to look into my face. “i said hi to a girl at warner today-”
he hums, encouraging me to keep talking.
“but it was just a quick ‘hi’. apparently she’s a fan of yours, and she thought it was rude of me to greet her and then not stay and chat.” i explain. “so she took to twitter to say so.”
Trevor huffs, his nose scrunching in annoyance. “well that’s just stupid. you don’t owe anyone a conversation…. except me. because you love me, obviously.”
i laugh at his joke, making his face light up at his successful attempt to cheer me up.
“what else, baby?”
“well then, at the store, i ran into one of your ex-hookups.” i continue, and his brows thread together in confusion.
“which, ya know, doesn’t bother me.” i clarify. “but she made a comment on the condoms we use and implied that our relationship wouldn’t last long.”
“our love is not hers to speculate on.” he gruffs out in annoyance, and i nod along.
“i know. so i walked away.”
“i’m proud of you, love.” he presses a kiss to my forehead, a smile resting upon my face as he does. “is that all?”
“almost.” i breathe out. “then i got home, and my dad called as i was putting away the groceries.”
“okay.” he nods, obviously confused why i would be annoyed about my father calling.
“and he made some snide remarks about your tattoos.” Trevor barks out a laugh at that, quite used to people commenting on the art that adorns his skin.
“i ignored them, and hung up pretty much right after, because you got home. but, i just wish he could look past them, because then maybe he’d see the kind, funny guy that you are and understand why i’ve given my heart to you.”
his eyes squint as he grins at my words, bending his neck to pepper kisses across my nose and cheeks. i squeal at the affection and he pulls back to look me in the eyes.
“baby, i don’t care what your dad thinks of me. only that you like me. and i’m pretty sure that you love me just the way i am.”
i nod, biting my lip and holding back a smile. my cheeks turn hot, a blush settling over them, and he smirks at the sight.
“i don’t want you to worry your pretty little mind, baby.” he coos. “so someone was wrongfully upset that you didn’t take time out of your day to talk to them— who cares? people like to throw rocks at things that shine. and you, my darling, shine so beautifully bright. they’re just jealous.”
i roll my eyes at his cheesy statement, but the sentiment warms my heart. “thank you, Trev.”
“any time, baby.” he pulls me in for another hug, my head resting on his chest again. “our love is ours. nobody else’s. what other people have to say about it, and about us, doesn’t matter.
“you hands belong in mine, my heart belongs to yours, and no matter what life throws at us, i’m by your side.”
i open my mouth to respond, but i’m cut off by another voice.
“aww, that was sweet.”
i lift my head from Trevor’s chest, our heads both turning towards the entrance to our bedroom to find Jamie standing there with a cheesy smile.
“Jimmy, what are you doing in here?” Trevor lets out a wheezy laugh at his friend, his head dropping back and his shoulders shaking. the sound is like music to my ears.
this man.
i am so irrevocably in love with him.
“i got bored.” Jamie shrugs. “you guys were taking forever.”
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creedslove · 2 months
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when i tell you i'm going feral over javi having breeding/praise kink, i mean it.
this man can go from a total slut to our sweet domestic husband who will bring you flowers everyday and ask for help with tying his tie.
every time he appears on my screen i'm literally screaming into the pillow and kicking my legs. because honestly? that man could fuckin step on me and i'd say thank you.
but having his last name? having his children and be their mother??
i live for that dream 😭✋
hope your day was better than mine's and you feel okay. you're my comfort person and if it weren't for your blog i would never found out about javi or dave york, thank you so much <3
Javier Peña x f!reader
A/N: I love you my beautiful bestie, you are my comfort person and I love you and sorry for taking so long 😘💘 I hope you're doing alright love 😘
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• alrighty bestie, Javi is the definition of praise kink; that man will praise you at any given opportunity and he will enjoy everything single minute of it, because he lives for complimenting you as whole: your looks, your bodies, your laughter, your intelligence and of course, let's never forget about how he compliments your nails 🗣️
• he will always tell you you look pretty or mention you are wearing a beautiful color, he's gonna notice when you get a haircut, if you change your perfume and your lipstick usual colors (but let's cut him some slack here, the first thing he thinks of is that new color on your lips while you have his cock in your mouth hehe)
• and of course during sex Javier Peña is a fucking praiser™
• I mean it, he's gonna mix that with that filthy mouth of his, telling you the most explicit sinful things, at the same time he can be very sweet about you, always working on boosting your self confidence even if he doesn't really realize that
• and while doing so, of course he's gonna speak spanish too, knowing it drives you crazy
"just like that, mi amor, take all of it, all my cock in your beautiful mouth, tus labios tan bonitos..."
" you have such a delicious tight cunt, cariño, I love how you gush for me..."
"tu culo me vuelve loco, amor... Let my cock inside of it, I'll promise I'll go nice and slow"
• 🫢
• but he also likes receiving the praise; Javi suffers a lot from stress and those cruel thoughts about not being good enough or not doing a decent job, when it's time to lose himself into you and relax, he appreciates the way you remind him he's just as great
"you're amazing Javi, I'm proud of you, mi amor"
"your cock is so delicious, hermoso... Dejame cuidarte..."
• it will just melt your seemingly grumpy DIA boyfriend and he's gonna be all soft all for yourself
• also, I don't take any contrary opinions on this: Javier Peña is a family man and he just (wants) and needs a woman to make an honest man out of him; the moment he falls in love for real, he falls hard and there's no turning back, that man will love you for life
• and he's gonna change his mind about being a bachelor, he's gonna be a husband, and a great one at that matter, he's just gonna love being a husband, the fact he has a wife and that he won't have any other lonely nights, but instead, someone waiting for him at the end of the day, as he goes to his home instead of going just to a house
• he would such a proud husband, excited about wearing a wedding ring and such, everything in order to show how happy he is with marriage
• he's also the kind of husband to bring you flowers, chocolates, body lotions and any other small gifts here and there for no specific reason other than making you happy
• and not only that, he would always remember important dates, such as engagement and wedding anniversaries
• and of course, while being a loving husband, he would want to take the next step which consists of having a baby with you; it would probably start after seeing how beautiful you look with Murphy's kid in your arms, and just the general thought of having a whole family of his, would be enough to spark the idea
• and then the fun part begins: trying for a baby, which consists of you jumping on him at any opportunity
• and that man would finish inside of you every single time, hoping that time will be the charm and the baby Peña won't take very long ❤️
____
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