#She's a little crazy but we love her for that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothcsz · 13 hours ago

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final part of the neighbors series. well, everyone... we made it to the devastating end of our beloved neighbors! did i think we'd get here so fast? absolutely not, but alas we must face the truth that these two were doomed from the beginning 💔 thank you to everyone who has stuck around for this little series, i so appreciate it more than you know! please let ya girl know what you think hehe happy reading 🖤 thank you to @persephone-girl, @myownwholewildworld and @ovaryacted for helping me along the way 🥹

javier peña x f!reader. ~16k word count. the angst we've become familiar with, some new years vibes, canon typical violence (please proceed with caution), speaking of canon the timeline is way out of wack but we don't care okay (?), spanish heavy dialogue at times because i love writing in spanish (translations included), character death (bye bye mateo), reader has a mild case of agoraphobia, smut (hopefully it makes up for the heartbreak), unprotected p in v sex (this is fiction be smart irl), oral (f receiving), creampie kink!!!, hurt/no comfort?, guess what: javi is a piece of shit, no happy ending!!!, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thanks.

The days bleed into one another in a haze of pain, anxiety, and Javier’s unwavering presence.

His apartment has become your sanctuary as your body mends—slowly, achingly—but the weight of the world outside these walls makes every step toward recovery feel like a climb up a mountain.

He hovers without smothering, a balance that only someone as attuned as him could manage. He cooks poorly, though his effort is enough to warm your heart.

And when dinner inevitably becomes charred beyond recognition, he humors you with a begrudging sigh before ordering takeout from a local spot.

Connie checks in as often as she can. Her competence is a balm in itself, bringing company in the form of the orphaned baby girl they’ve taken in, and gentle scolding when you try to do too much too soon.

You’re definitely going stir-crazy on top of all the other shit you’re still processing.

His bedroom is practically yours now, the space filled with your things from a hurried list you’d made after he went to clear your apartment, ensuring it was safe and untapped.

You could go back, but you don’t want to. Not yet. Not when every shadow feels like it’s going to swallow you whole, and not when the thought of leaving Javi’s protection makes your stomach tighten with anxiety.

Tonight is no different, the silence of his apartment familiar. Javier is sprawled on the couch in the living room, his gun within arm’s reach on the coffee table, the TV playing some late-night soccer game at a low volume.

You’re in his bed, wrapped in the blankets that carry the scent of him.

The nightmare rips you from your sleep and into a cold sweat. Your screams shatter the quiet, piercing through the walls like a siren. Javier is on his feet in seconds, gun in hand, his instincts sharp as ever, heart pounding as he rushes into the bedroom.

He bursts through the door, his eyes scanning for threats before they land on you. You’re sitting up, clutching your head in your hands, your body shaking with sobs.

Javi approaches slowly, cautious yet reassuring as he sets the weapon down on the nightstand. “It’s me, cariño. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

The sound of his voice breaks through your panic, and you look up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, your breathing ragged. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his embrace, your face burying into his chest as his strong arms wrap around you.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” you sob into his shirt, your fingers clutching at the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart entirely.

Javier keeps you cradled in his lap, feeling helpless as he tries to console you, resting his chin on the top of your head, rubbing your back soothingly. He doesn’t know what to say, and he hopes you don’t take his wordless comfort the wrong way.

Your tears don’t stop, but the steady thumping of his heart and steadying breaths begin to calm the overpowering emotions that stab at you all over. “They k-keep finding me,” you whisper hoarsely. “In my dreams. Mateo, his men… They hurt you, Javi. They kill you, and I-I can’t stop them.”

His jaw tightens, the familiar strike of anger igniting deep in his chest. But he controls it, his focus entirely on you. “That’s not going to happen,” he says with quiet intensity. “I won’t let it. You’re safe here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. They’ll never touch you again.”

Even though the fear still lingers, you nod against him, your tears finally slowing. “I’m scared,” you admit in a hush, as if the city can hear you.

“I know,” his lips replace his chin with a soft kiss placed at the crown of your head. “You’ve got every right to be, but not for much longer. Te lo prometo.” (I promise you)

He holds you close, his mind racing. He knows the nightmares won’t stop until Mateo is dealt with, and the thought of you living in fear makes his blood boil.

Tomorrow, he decides, he’s going to make a move. Berna’s contact information has been burning a hole in his wallet, reminding him of the quickest way to get his justice.

Whatever it takes, whoever he has to call in, Mateo will pay for what he’s done.

He stays with you, his arms a fortress around your trembling body as you finally begin to drift back into an uneasy sleep.

When your breathing finally evens out and sleep welcomes you again, Javier doesn’t move right away. He keeps you in his embrace just a little longer, as if afraid that letting go might wake the nightmares again.

Eventually, he carefully shifts, lowering you back onto the bed. He tucks the blanket snugly around your shoulders, his movements unhurried. For a long moment, he doesn’t leave, his gaze fixed on your face.

Your lashes rest against your cheeks, still damp from tears, and your lips curve downward in a soft, unconscious pout. There’s a faint crease between your brows, as if even in slumber, you’re holding onto the pain. His heart aches at the sight.

Even like this, fragile and hurting, you’re still so beautiful.

He leans in without thinking, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. His lips linger there for just a moment longer than they should, as if willing his affection to seep into your dreams and chase away the darkness.

With gentle fingers, he smooths the furrow from your brow, hesitating as he straightens. His eyes trail over you one last time before forcing himself to turn away and leave, returning to his spot on the uncomfortable couch.

Every step he takes toward the usual meeting spot feels heavy, hindering, like the universe is daring him to find another way; a constant reminder of the ethical line he is about to cross yet again.

He’s not about to let what happened to you fall into the cracks of this crumbling country.

Does this really make him any better than Mateo? Than the rest of the assholes he’s spent his career hunting? The question whisks around in Javier’s mind, relentless and accusatory, every time he looks in the mirror or stares down the barrel of another wasted day.

He tells himself the same justification every time: You’ve got to do bad things to catch bad people. You have to stoop to their level to get the job done. Get your hands dirty alongside them.

But the words taste bitter, even as they leave his mouth. It’s not a mantra—it’s an excuse. One he clings to, because if he doesn’t, he’d have to face the man he’s become.

It’s a betrayal. Of the ideals he once believed in. Of you.

You wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t dare accuse him outright of something so low, but he can see the questions in the way your eyes search his when he comes home in the middle of the night, reeking of sweat and moral compromise.

He’s doing this for you. It’s about justice, about making things right. But deep down, he knows it’s not just that.

It’s about vengeance.

He steps into the shop, the smell of authentic Colombian food and coffee hitting him all at once.

Berna is already seated, a bulky figure crammed into a chair that seems too small for him, like a predator disguised as a civilian.

His beady eyes flick up as Javier approaches, a greasy grin spreading across his face. “¿Nos volvemos a reunir tan pronto? ¿Me extrañas o qué, Peña?” (Meeting again so soon? Do you miss me or what?) he asks, lifting the tiny cup with fingers that seemed more suited to take lives than hold porcelain.

Javier slides into the seat across from him, the legs scraping against the tile floor. “¿Obtuviste la información que te pedí sobre el banquero?” (Did you get the information I asked for about the banker?) His voice is clipped, wasting no time on pleasantries.

He reaches into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out the photograph of Mateo to remind the other man why he’s here. The paper is crumpled from how many times he’s clenched it in his fist, a physical manifestation of his frustration.

He unfolds it carefully and places it on the table, sliding it between them.

Berna doesn’t even blink, his gaze dropping to the photo with all the urgency of a man just leisuring about. He stirs his coffee lazily, adding another spoonful of sugar. “¿Y yo que gano?” (What’s in it for me?)

Javier’s jaw ticks, the muscle feathering beneath his stubbled skin. He knows this game, has played it too many fucking times—it grates on him. “Lo de siempre,” (What it always is) he replies gruffly. “Esto no es diferente a nuestros otros acuerdos.” (This isn’t any different than our other agreements)

Berna leans back in his chair, his bulk shifting the chair with a creak. “Seguro?” (You sure about that?) he asks, patronizingly, as he taps the edge of the photo with a stubby finger. “Javiercito, ¿sigues dejando que las mujeres dirijan tu vida?” (Javiercito, still letting women run your life?) He tuts, “Pero no te culpo. Una buena perra debilita hasta al hombre más fuerte.” (I don’t blame you. A good bitch debilitates even the toughest man)

He curls his fists under the table, blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms, willing himself to stay seated. His patience is running thin, making his leg bounce rapidly.

“No se trata de eso,” (That’s not what this is about) Javier grinds out through clamped teeth.

Berna barks out a laugh, leaning forward slightly. “Esto no funciona si nos decimos mentiras.” (This won’t work if we tell each other lies) His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper now, though his smug smile remains wide. “Lo estás buscando por la orden que envió.” (You’re after him for that call he sent out)

Javi’s irritation is momentarily replaced by intrigue. He straightens slightly. “¿Cual orden?” (What call?)

Berna’s grin grows wolfish, pure amusement bubbling into an obnoxious, rumbling laugh that fills the small space. “¿Ves? Lo sabía.” (See? I knew it) He wags a thick finger at Javier, like a teacher scolding a disobedient student. “Tu banquero hizo una llamada para deshacerse de su mujer. Una empleada de la embajada. Americana. Vos lo sabes mejor que nadie cómo se sienten estos tipos cuando matan a un Americano, especialmente a una tan insignificante… y muy bonita, por lo que he oído.” (Your banker made a call to get rid of his girl. An embassy employee. American. You know better than anyone how these guys feel about killing an American, especially one so insignificant… and very pretty, from what I hear)

Javier’s gut twists at the confirmation of something he practically already knew.

“Emputó a muchos con ese truco. Huyó como un cobarde. Supongo que por eso estás aquí. Por ella.” (He pissed a lot of people off with that trick. Ran away like a coward. I guess that’s why you’re here. Because of her)

Javier flicks his tongue across his teeth.“Eso no importa,” (That doesn’t matter) he retorts lowly. “Sólo necesito saber dónde está... el y esos hijos de puta que cumplieron la orden.” (I just need to know where he is... and those two motherfuckers who followed through with the order)

Berna hums as he strokes his chin like he’s considering it. “Cartagena,” he finally gives him a location, something to fucking work with, as simply as if he were giving directions to el mercado. “Ahí se esconde. Sin embargo, consiguió protección, pero no es nada que los gringos no puedan manejar.” (That’s where he’s hiding. Got himself some protection, but it’s nothing the Americans can’t handle) That last bit said mockingly to purposely annoy the agent.

“¿Y los otros?” (And the others?) Javier presses, not letting him ride his nerves so easily.

“Santos y Rico,” Berna supplies, shrugging nonchalantly. “Siguen en Bogotá. Frecuentan un club allí sobre los barrios. El Flamenco. Bebidas baratas, música de mierda... tu tipo de lugar, ¿eh?” (They’re still in Bogotá. They frequent a club near the barrios. The Flamingo. Cheap booze, shitty music—your kind of place)

He doesn’t rise to the bait again, simply nodding as he stands, swiping the photo of Mateo off the table and back into his pocket, switching it out for his trusty pack of cigarettes.

“Ten cuidado, Peña,” (Careful, Peña) Berna calls after him, his tone still mocking. “No dejes que te vuelva estúpido.” (Don’t let her make you stupid)

Javier doesn’t look back as he walks out into the crisp night, his mind already focused on the next steps.

The capital for Santos and Rico. Cartagena for Mateo. But first, back to you.

He isn’t sure how he’d explain this to you… or if he even would. All he knows is that he has to see your face, remind himself why he’s doing this, using you as an excuse to help justify the violence that has tainted his soul.

Javier is gone. A lot. You try not to let it get to you, especially after he promised to not leave your side ever again. Though, you should have known better than to take that literally.

The rhythm of his comings and goings is erratic, like a broken metronome that keeps you off balance.

At first, it was just a couple of days here and there—late nights bleeding into early mornings, his tired eyes explaining everything and nothing all at once. Then the days stretched into weeks, his absence carving a yawning void in the already fragile sanctuary of his apartment.

Your ribs mend. The bruises fade, the cuts scab over, but none of it feels like progress. Healing should feel like a triumph, not this hollow ache of emptiness of what you’re left with.

You are in Javier’s apartment like a ghost confined in purgatory, aimless and haunted.

You’re supposed to be dead right now.

The thought comes at odd moments—while folding the laundry, when washing the coffee mug he used one morning before he was urgently called back to work, standing at the edge of his bed staring at the empty space where his body should be.

You can’t stop it. It circles you like a vulture, picking at what little resolve you have left.

Connie’s gone too. She had been your lifeline for a while, popping in and offering comfort when her own world was crumbling. But her absence was inevitable, torn between spontaneous parenthood and a marriage fraying at every seam because of the job.

Now it’s just you. Alone with your thoughts, the muffled chaos of the world outside seeping through the walls. It’s a torment you never imagined possible, let alone one you’d find yourself living through.

The country seems to be devouring itself. The news on the small TV mutters of violence that is neverending.

Sometimes, you’ll stand by the sliding glass door that leads to his balcony, fingers brushing the edge of the curtain. You tell yourself you’re just looking, but the nagging fear of being watched creeps up your spine.

The blinds never stay open for long, your courage retreating as quickly as it came. Javier has trusted agents dropping groceries and meals off for you at the doorstep, and even then you’re very cautious about opening the door to bring them inside.

Loneliness, paranoia and insomnia have become your closest companions. The reflection in the mirror becomes a stranger with a melancholic expression and sleepless eyes.

You collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this is who you are now: a woman afraid to live.

The rare moments Javi manages to call leave you clinging to the landline, his rough voice over the static of the phone your only escape.

His words are rushed, heavy with exhaustion and tension. Sometimes it’s just an update—he’s okay, thinking of you. Other times, it’s the smallest sliver of intimacy:

“I miss you. I’ll be back soon.”

It’s selfish, you know, to want him here when you know the stakes of what he does for a living. The weight of what he deals with is an unwanted companion in his life.

But that doesn’t stop the longing, the ache to have him wrap his arms around you and make the world feel safe again.

The memory of his love confession that night in the bathroom is all that keeps you going. You cradle it like a fragile ember, feeding it with every shred of optimism you can muster. Which isn’t a lot as of late.

One day, you tell yourself. One day this will all be behind you. The darkness will lift, the scars on your heart will heal.

Until then, you have to endure. Love is a painful and ugly thing.

He gets all three of them in the end. It’s not clean, not quiet, but it’s done.

Berna’s information leads Javier straight to the first two—a pair of low-rent sicarios who’d been dumb enough to let their guard down in a hole-in-the-wall bar back in Bogotá.

The two were slouched over the counter, their laughter slurred and careless, oblivious to the shit storm about to hit.

He didn’t even have to lift a finger. The group moved swiftly, their boots loud against the grimy floor, and in seconds, the sicarios were on the ground, bloodied and begging.

Javier didn’t stay to watch them get dragged out into the alley, their pleas echoing in the narrow space before two distinct gunshots were heard.

He was already planning his next move: Cartagena. Mateo.

No time is wasted when he touches down in the coastal city, greeted by Berna and some of his men.

Flanked by the grim crew, they make their way to the luxurious safe house perched in one of Cartagena’s wealthiest enclaves.

Criminals like Mateo always hide out in opulence after orchestrating such violence.

The assault begins the moment they breach the front gate. Chaos erupts. Gunfire cracks like thunder, tearing through the pristine silence of the night.

Bullets shatter glass, ricocheting off marble columns and embedding themselves in the cream-colored walls. Screams echo as Mateo’s protective detail fights back hard, but they’re outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and out of luck.

It’s ruthless yet efficient, and Javier moves through the pandemonium suavely, his focus singular, expression stern, as he searches for the asshole he is here for.

By the time he kicks in the door to Mateo’s hiding spot, the man is cornered. He’s standing by the balcony, sweat dripping down his face, his silk shirt clinging to his torso. A pistol is gripped tightly in his hand and pointed right at Javier.

“Suelta el arma,” (Drop the gun) Javier sneers, his lips curled, weapon steadily trained at the other’s chest.

The temptation to end it all here—one clean shot—burns in his veins. He could do it, drive a bullet straight into the bastard’s heart and paint the wall behind him red.

But no. He won’t give him the ease of a quick death. Not after what he did to you.

Mateo scoffs as it dawns on him that he’s standing off against the DEA agent that’s been shadowing him since the moment he met you.

“Tú primero.” (You first)

“No estás en una posición para pedir ni mierda.” (You are not in a position to ask for shit)

Their eyes lock, and the room feels impossibly still despite the carnage wreaking outside.

Mateo’s hesitation is all the opening Javier needs. He lunges forward, disarming the man in one swift motion and landing a punch squarely across his face. The force sends Mateo sprawling, his pistol clattering uselessly to the floor.

It’s a struggle and Mateo fights back, dirty and desperate. They grapple, fists flying, grunts filling the air as they roll across the polished floor. Javier takes a few hits to his ribs and jaw, but his anger drives him forward.

Every punch is laced with the memory of you—of what this fucker had done, of the fear in your eyes and the pain in your voice, how he broke you.

Finally, with a grunt of exertion, Javier manages to force Mateo onto his stomach, wrenching his arms behind his back. The cuffs click into place, metal biting into his skin.

“¿Crees que eres un héroe o qué?” (Do you think you’re some hero or what?) Mateo spits out, blood mixed in his saliva landing with a glop on the floor and Javier yanks him up. “¿Qué va a pensar tu preciado gobierno cuando les diga con quién lluegaste? Me estás arrestando sin ningún puto motivo factual.” (What is your precious government going to think when i tell them who you showed up here with. You’re arresting me with no real fucking cause)

Javier laughs, the sound bitter and hollow, devoid of humor. As he walks him towards the opulent front doors, he makes sure to twist Mateo’s wrists in the restraints until the jagged metal digs enough to make him bleed.

“¿Crees que esto es un arresto?” (You think this is an arrest) The rhetorical question is asked condescendingly, “No, Mateo, no voy a arrastrarte tras las rejas para que te pudras. Ese es un futuro demasiado misericordioso para malparidos como tú.” (I’m not going to drag you behind bars to rot. That’s too merciful of a future for bastards like you)

With a shove, he pushes Mateo forward. The armed men are waiting at the bottom of the marble steps, and they move quickly, forcing a black bag over his head. His muffled curses are cut short by a sharp blow to the gut.

They throw him into the waiting van like cargo, slamming the doors shut before the engine roars to life.

Javier exhales, his hands flexing at his sides as he watches the vehicle pull away into the darkness. He’s about to tail it, his mind already running through the long night ahead, but then his thoughts veer to you and the way you look at him like he’s more than the monster he feels he’s becoming.

Berna steps up beside him, his presence as calm and calculated as ever despite the massacre that has occurred. His hands are clasped neatly behind his back, but there’s a flicker of something—amusement, perhaps, or curiosity—dancing in his dark eyes.

“¿Y ahora qué?” (And now what?) he asks, his tone deceptively casual, like he doesn’t already know exactly what Javier’s next move is going to be.

Javi doesn’t even glance his way. “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”

The basement reeks of damp concrete, sweat, and the metallic tang of blood. The single bulb overhead swings with a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm, casting broken shadows that dance across the cracked walls and the man tied to the chair.

Mateo’s head hangs low, chin resting against his chest, blood trailing from his broken nose, pooling on the stained floor beneath him. His chest rises and falls unevenly, each breath a wheeze as pain ripples through his bruised and battered figure.

Javier leans against the base of the stairs, his leather jacket discarded over a rusty chair nearby. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, revealing forearms taut with tension, veins bulging beneath his brown skin.

His knuckles are raw, split open from earlier blows, and they throb with a dull ache that he’s long since chosen to ignore. His dark eyes are devoid of their usual sly charm; instead, they smolder with a cold, relentless fury.

Mateo coughs, spitting blood and phlegm onto the floor. “Todo esto... ¿por ella?” (All this… for her) His voice is weak, rasping, but the mockery in his tone is unmistakable. “I don’t believe it.”

Javier pushes off the wall, his boots echoing on the concrete as he takes measured steps toward the chair. He grabs a stool and pulls it up, straddling it directly in front of the other man. His face is inches away, close enough to make him flinch.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” Javier reaches out, gripping his jaw with one hand, forcing him to meet his gaze. Mateo winces as Javier’s thumb presses hard against a fresh bruise, the pain blooming anew.

Still, he manages to huff out a wet and gurgling chuckle. “Realmente te tiene envuelto alrededor de su maldito dedo. Estás haciendo todo esto para qué, ¿vengarla? (She really had you wrapped tight around her fucking finger. You’re doing all this to what, avenge her?) Some gringa who barely gave it up. Podrías encontrar una puta mejor en la ciudad, eso sería más creíble que esto—” (You could find a better whore out in the city, that would be more believable than this)

The crack of Javier’s fist connecting with his cheekbone cuts him off mid-sentence. Mateo’s head snaps to the side, and more blood spatters the floor. Javier shakes out his hand, fidgeting his fingers.

“You tried to have her killed.” He spits, voice trembling with restrained rage. “And now you’re going to reap every second she’s had to live in fear because of you.”

Mateo lifts his head weakly, shooting daggers at the agent despite his beaten state. “And this rights the wrong? Makes you better than me? Us? Look at you. Torturing a man in the dark. Working with killers.”

Javier steps closer, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him forward, their faces inches apart. “You’re goddamn right it doesn’t make me better,” he growls. “But I don’t give a fuck anymore. My moral compass? That broke the day I realized just how low you motherfuckers get. The day I realized the only way to protect people like her is to become just like you.”

He shoves him away with enough force to send the chair rocking precariously, the screech of its legs grating against the hard floor.

Javier’s hand closes around a nearby crowbar, it’s cold metal chilling against the heat radiating from his palm. He grips it tightly, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he stalks forward.

He presses the tip of the bar against Mateo’s knee, letting it rest there just long enough for the man’s wide eyes to meet his. The anticipation thickens the air like smoke, and then Javier swings.

The impact is sickening, the crack of bone like a firework detonating in the basement, followed by Mateo’s shrill and desperate scream.

It’s a sound that would make most men hesitate, flinch even, but Javier doesn’t stop.

He brings the crowbar down again and again, obliterating both knees and then moving downward, snapping tibias and fibulas like kindling. Mateo’s pleas are incoherent now, sobbing gasps and wet, broken cries of “Stop!” and “Please!” that Javier doesn’t hear—or perhaps chooses not to.

The cool iron gleams under the dim, swaying light. Blood trickles down it, some of it spatters across Javi’s shirt, his arms, but it doesn’t faze him.

It all becomes a distant hum, drowned out by the roaring in his ears. He doesn’t see the man in front of him anymore; he sees your pain, the fear etched into your face, the scars you’ll carry forever because of this piece of shit.

When Mateo’s legs are little more than pulp, Javier tosses the crowbar aside, the clang of metal on concrete echoing like a death knell.

He doesn’t stop, though. He doesn’t even hesitate. His fists take over, slamming into the other’s face brutally.

Mateo’s head lolls to the side, his breaths coming in ragged, wet gasps. Javier pulls back only when he’s sure the man is teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, his face swollen and unrecognizable.

Breathing heavily, Javi staggers back and pulls his pistol from its spot tucked at his lower back. The deafening click of the safety switching off snaps Mateo out of his stupor, his swollen eyes flying open in panic.

He tries to speak, but his words dissolve into choked sobs. His ravaged legs twitch uselessly, bones jutting through torn skin, his face an unrecognizable mask of swelling and gore.

Javier steps closer, raising the gun. The barrel points squarely at Mateo’s chest, unwavering.

There isn’t anything left to say.

The first shot rings out, deafening in the enclosed space. Mateo jerks in the chair, blood spraying from the wound. Another shot follows, then another. Every pull of the trigger is cathartic, each bullet an exclamation point to the anger and anguish he’s carried for too long.

It feels like ripping a piece of his soul away, but he doesn’t stop. Not until the clip is empty and Mateo’s body slumps forward, lifeless.

Silence falls, heavy and oppressive. Javier’s chest heaves as he lowers the weapon, tasting the burnt sulfurous in the air, his fingers trembling slightly. Blood pools around the chair, a deep crimson stark against the dull gray of the concrete.

He stares at the heap for a moment, his body and soul untethered. There’s no satisfaction in his expression, only exhaustion and a shadow of something darker—loathing, maybe.

He tucks the gun at his lower back again and turns away, his boots crunching over spent shell casings as he heads for the stairs, grabbing his jacket on the way out.

He doesn’t look back as he ascends out of the basement, men trailing in to clean the mess up. Javier doesn’t let himself linger on what he’s done.

You’ve been pacing the apartment for hours, too restless to sit still, too wired to even think about sleeping.

“I’m coming back tonight.”

He sounded different when he called. Blank, almost, but you told yourself not to get hung up on it. You haven’t been feeling like yourself lately, either.

The only thing that mattered was that he was coming back to you.

By the time the doorknob rattles at one in the morning, you’re wide awake, perched on the edge of the couch with your legs tucked beneath you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the door creaks open, and there he is.

Javier’s silhouette fills the frame, outlined by the dim light spilling in from the hallway. His broad shoulders are hunched, the leather duffle dangling limply in one hand. His jean jacket hangs off him like it’s too heavy, his hair mussed, his face unshaven.

The grim line of his mouth and the absent look in his eyes tug at the emotions you harbor for him.

You don’t even realize you’ve moved until your feet are carrying you to him, the silver of the moonlight pours in from the glass doors that lead to the balcony, illuminating the room. “Javi…” you whisper, the name leaving your lips before you can think.

You throw yourself into his arms without hesitation, wrapping yourself around him like if you hold him tight enough, it will make all this despair go away.

His duffle hits the floor with a dull thud as his arms come around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

He doesn’t deserve this, he thinks, as you cling to him. Your affection, your tenderness. Still, that doesn’t stop him from being selfish and bathing in the warmth of your body pressed against his.

His embrace is crushing, pulling you so close you can barely breathe, but you don’t care. If he could press you into his skin, you’d let him. If you could crawl inside his chest and be near his heart, you would.

“I missed you,” you murmur against him, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his jacket. His grip tightens in response, but he doesn’t say a word. His silence makes your throat tighten.

You pull back just enough to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. His skin is rough beneath your fingers, the scruff on his jaw rasping against your palms. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see it all—the weariness, the anger, the shame, the pieces that make him who he is.

He opens his mouth to respond, but whatever he’s about to say dies on his tongue when you lean in and kiss him.

It’s not gentle. It’s desperate, like you’re trying to pour every word you haven’t said into the press of your lips on his.

They’re softer than you’d imagined in your countless daydreams, but the way he moves them against yours carries an unmistakable authority. Even as you take the lead, it feels like he’s in control.

Javi’s hands rise, cradling the back of your head as he holds you steady. His mouth moves like he’s been waiting for this, needing this, as much as you have.

You are his sanctuary and his torment, the single thread keeping him whole in a world that threatens to disentangle him.

It’s vaster than love, more potent than lust. It’s the way his heart pinches every time you look at him, as if no matter how far he falls into the darkness, you’ll always be there to pull him back.

Your fingers curl into the denim of his jacket, tugging him closer while you take small, shuffling steps backward. He tastes so forbidden and intoxicating. You’ll never get enough.

As you guide him further into the apartment, he follows without question, mouth never leaving yours, until you stumble slightly over the sunken step into the living room.

His hands move to your waist to steady you, the brief break in the kiss filled with a shaky exhale against your lips, your name leaving him so softly, you almost miss it.

“What are we doing?” His question is rough around the edges, like gravel under silk. He swallows hard, the muscles in his neck moving. His touch remains on your hips, as if he’s caught between holding you close and pushing you away.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you surge forward, capturing his lips again as your hands fumble with his jacket. He hesitates, just for a split second, before shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor.

You’re already tugging at the hem of his shirt as you guide him toward the couch with a determined push, his legs folding beneath him as he sits.

You climb onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips.

“Wait,” he says your name, this time a little more sternly. “We can’t—” His fingers flex against your curves, tone strained with the conflict that’s written all over his face.

“Javier, please.” Your plea wavers with emotion, your hands balling into the fabric of his shirt. “I just… I need to feel something else. Make me feel something else.”

His brown eyes meet yours, and the anguish he finds there strikes deep within him. It’s a look he knows all too well, one he’s carried in his own reflection more times than he can count.

It hurts him to see it mirrored back at him, to know that you’ve reached the same depths he’s had to endure.

He should say no. He should tell you that fucking him won’t fix anything, that it won’t make the hurt disappear. If anything, it might make it worse.

But as he takes in the sight of you—your pleading eyes, your trembling hands, the way your lips are still swollen from his kisses—he knows he can’t resist. Not when he’s wanted this, wanted you, for so long.

“Are you sure?” Your noses brush and the heat between you is almost unbearable.

“Please fuck me, Javi,” you whisper, the raw need in your voice obliterating the last shred of his trepidation.

His lips find yours with renewed fervor, hands roaming your body with reckless abandon, no longer hesitant.

Your own are just as eager, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you rock your hips against his bulge. His sharp inhale tells you he feels it too—the spark, the friction.

Clothes begin to fall away piece by piece, the space narrowing until there’s nothing but the press of your bodies and the sound of ragged breaths as you expose more to the other’s hungry gaze.

The moonlight filtering through the blinds casts Javier in a way that makes him look otherworldly. You’ve seen him shirtless more times than you can count, but tonight, under the spell of the lust simmering between you, his body appears almost unreal—every ridge of muscle, every faint scar, illuminated and tempting.

Your touch moves at its own accord, spreading over his firm chest, tracing the curve of his pectorals, feeling the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat. You move to cradle his face once more, his skin warm and taut under your palms as you guide him down to your neck.

Javier presses his lips to the delicate skin just below your ear, the scrape of his facial hair making you keen. His teeth nip at your pulse point, eliciting a gasp from you, and his tongue follows to soothe the sting.

His kisses blaze a trail lower, past the hollow of your throat and down to the swells of your tits, where he pauses, his breath fanning over your charged skin.

Your breath catches softly as his tongue flicks across the sensitive flesh, and then one of his hands slides up from your waist to cup the other. His thumb brushes over your nipple, teasing it until it peaks under his touch, and then his mouth is on you again—hot, wet, and maddeningly skillful.

He sucks the tender nub gently and you arch into him, whimpering from how good it feels.

“Javi…” you moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair. His tongue circles your pebbled nipple, flicking it with just the right amount of pressure before he grazes it with his teeth, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core, slickening your cunt with each lick.

He doesn’t neglect the other for long, moving over to give it the same attention, making you feel like you’re coming undone one nerve at a time.

His mouth feels delicious against your skin, and your skin tastes delicious on his tongue.

Even as his desire threatens to consume him, he’s cautious. He notices how you flinch slightly when his fingers press a bit too firmly into your soft skin and guilt prickles at the edges of his hunger; but it only makes him gentler, more intent on making you feel good without causing any more pain.

Javier kisses his way back up until his lips are at the corner of your mouth. Then, with a fluid motion, he shifts your position, guiding you onto your back. The worn cushions cradle you as he hovers over you, his broad frame shielding you from the world, one hand planted firmly beside your head as he kneels between your parted thighs.

The sight of him above you, his polished amber eyes smoldering with want, makes your stomach flip.

Your hips tilt instinctively, seeking more, and the throbbing at your pussy grows insistent. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, the denim of his jeans rubbing tantalizingly against your inner thighs.

He doesn’t speak, but the tension in his jaw, the way his breath is ragged as his fingers find the waistband of your sleeping shorts, says everything.

You lift your hips to help him ease them off, the cool air brushing against your damp skin making you shiver. He undresses fully, and you watch in anticipation as he rids himself of his jeans.

The room is almost fully dark, shadows swallowing the details, but you feel the heat of his cock as it presses against your slick folds.

Your head falls back against the couch, a shaky moan escaping your lips. “Oh…” you whimper, thighs trembling as the blunt head of his length glides along your throbbing seam, gathering your arousal.

The rough pads of his fingers slither down, brushing through the untamed curls at the apex of your thighs. Your upkeep has been the last thing on your mind, given the chaos of your life lately, but Javier doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t falter. If anything, the unfiltered, raw intimacy of it seems to spur him on.

He strokes your pussy gently, his touch reverent, as if every part of you is something to be savored.

The pearl of precum that leaks from the slit on his cock smears against your thigh as he brings his hand up, licking the tips of his fingers, tasting you.

Your heady taste is an aphrodisiac that almost has him pouncing on you like a rabid dog.

There’s a glistening sheen of his spit on the pads of his digits as his hand descends again, sliding between your folds.

His touch is confident, and when he circles your clit with the calloused texture of his fingertips, the sensation hits you like a jolt of electricity, bending your back off the couch as his name tumbles from your lips.

“You ready?”

You nod eagerly, your hands reaching for him, pulling him closer. “I need you.”

He tries not to let those three simple words affect them as much as he knows they can. Instead, he adjusts, making sure you’re both comfortable, bringing you up onto his lap, steadying you by cradling your lower back in his large hand as you loop your arms around his shoulders.

Your thighs tighten at his waist as he aligns his dick at the mouth of your pussy, slowly sinking in, which has you shivering and him hissing out.

You cling to his wide frame as he fills you completely. The world narrows down to nothing but the feel of his cock.

Having you in his arms feels like a paradox—so right and yet so wrong. It’s a storm of conflicting emotions that Javier barely has the bandwidth to process, but all those doubts dissolve with every inch of his length that slides into your wet, tight heat.

The feel of you gripping him so snugly makes his head tilt back slightly, lips parting with a soft groan.

The stretch is both foreign and delicious as your body adjusts to the thickness and size of him.

Your nails bite into the taut muscles of his shoulders, your breath catching in your throat before spilling out in a desperate, trembling moan as he buries himself into your body.

The subtle burn gives way to an irrepressible wave of pleasure when he begins to move, slow at first, testing your limits, before he finds a rhythm that has your head spinning.

“Javi,” you gasp, his name falling from your lips repeatedly as you hold onto him.

Your hips begin to move with his, grinding down in a desperate attempt to take him deeper, to feel every inch of him claiming you.

He groans as he leans forward, his forehead pressing against yours. The hand at your lower back moves up to sprawl at the middle, keeping you steady, as the other cups your ass and guides your movements to match his thrusts.

His head nudges yours, his silent request clear, and you pull back just enough for your mouths to collide in a messy, hungry embrace. His tongue slips past your lips, tangling with yours, the kiss as consuming as the rest of him.

Every powerful stroke of his hips wipes away the hollow ache that had rooted itself in your chest. In its place is a blissful sensation that threatens to engulf you.

You can feel the intensity of his passion in every thrust, every growled exhalation of your name, every flick of his tongue against yours.

Javier has a way of making the world disappear, of pulling you so completely into him that there’s no room for pain, for doubt, for anything but how good he’s fucking you.

In his arms, with his body wrapped around yours and his cock filling you to the brim, you feel more than safe. You feel wanted. Protected. Cherished. Taken care of.

“Did you really mean it?” you whimper as your hips grind steadily against him, taking him entirely with every downward roll of your body.

Your fingers tangle in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly. The wet, obscene sound of your arousal meeting his cock fills the air, a symphony of lust underscoring your whispered question. “Do you actually love me?”

Javier groans, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as your walls flutter and squeeze around him.

He doesn’t answer immediately, too lost in the sight of you—your furrowed brows, the sweat glistening on your skin, the way your lips part on every gasp and moan.

And you, despite being desperate for his assurance, can’t bring yourself to stop riding his dick.

I’ve killed for you, he thinks, but doesn’t dare say aloud. Instead, his rough voice finally breaks. “I do,” he rasps, his hands gripping your ass possessively, continuing to guide your pace as his strokes grow frantic. “So fuckin’ much. You’d never—shit— you’d never understand.” His mouth latches onto your collarbone, licking and biting with a feral need as if he could brand his love into your skin.

“Make me understand,” you demand in a breathy moan. Your pussy quivers as he adjusts his angle, his cock dragging against a spot inside you that evokes something new. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your head falling back, exposing the arch of your neck to his ravenous kisses.

The ecstasy isn’t just centered at your pussy anymore—it conquers your entire body, an all-encompassing euphoria.

Javier doesn’t waste time with more words. Where they fail him, his actions overcompensate.

In a blink, he shifts, pinning you beneath him on the couch. His hands slide under your thighs, hitching them high around his hips as he starts to thrust with unrelenting rhythm. The head of his cock feels like it’s brushing against your heart, making you cry out incoherently.

Each roll of his hips is a declaration, a confession. This is how much I love you. This is how much I need you.

“Oh my god,” you mewl when it starts feeling like too much. Your hands scramble for purchase, one landing on his cheek while the other claws at his back. Your eyes roll back, and sounds you didn’t even know you could make spill from your lips.

Javier’s face is tight with concentration, his brow pinched together, beads of sweat rolling down his temple. He leans in closer, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s as nasty and desperate as his love making.

You can taste the impending bliss on your tongue as your orgasm begins to crash over you. “I love you, Javier,” you moan, high pitched and sweetly.

Your declaration is his undoing. With a loud grunt, Javier pulls out swiftly, his fist wrapping around his cock as he pumps himself. His release comes in hot, thick spurts, painting your stomach as he shudders above you, hips jerking reflexively.

“God damn,” he mutters hoarsely as he collapses forward. His forehead rests against your chest, peppering kisses all over, as the two of you come down together, tangled and spent.

When he regains his composure, he moves off the couch, tugging his jeans on in a practiced, effortless motion before disappearing into the bathroom. You remain sprawled against the cushions, your body still humming from the pleasure he gave you.

A haze of contentment blankets you, leaving you feeling like a new woman. For the first time in weeks, the suffocating mass on your chest feels lighter—his touch, his presence, the way he fucked you—it all feels like a salve on your wounded spirit.

He returns swiftly, a damp, clean rag in hand. His movements are gentle as he crouches beside you, wiping away the sticky remnants of his release from your stomach.

The care in his actions is almost as endearing as the passion you just shared, and you find yourself watching him, entranced. The lines of exhaustion etched into his face don’t take away from how devastatingly handsome he looks in this moment.

It’s only when his hand brushes yours as he adjusts the rag that you notice the state of it—knuckles battered and scabbed over. You’d been too lost in the zeal of your coupling to notice, but now it has a pang of worry cutting through your post-coital haze.

“Javi, your hands—” you start, softly yet concerned. As you slowly sit up, a subtle twinge in your back reminds you just how thoroughly he’d fucked you into the couch. You grimace but press on, your brows knitting together as you reach for him.

Out of habit, he flexes his fingers, his lips tugging into something meant to be reassuring but doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he answers with a nonchalance that brushes off the concern in your voice.

Rising from his crouched position, he tosses the rag aside, going through the motions of lighting a cigarette. He sits beside you, pulling you close and wrapping the familiar, colorful quilt around both your bodies, blowing the smoke away from your face.

You don’t give up so easily. Curling into his lap, you nuzzle your nose against the crook of his neck, planting a featherlight kiss against the birthmark there. He smells like sex, tinged with the fading scent of his cologne.

Wordlessly, you reach for the arm around your shoulder, cradling his hand gently. You bring it to your lips, brushing them against his injured knuckles. Your eyes stay locked on his, the act full of care, as if you’re trying to kiss away the pain written in every crack and abrasion.

“It’s over,” He announces steadily, his words sinking like a stone dropped into water.

You blink at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He pauses, taking another drag then licking his lips with a flick of his tongue. His gaze is fixed on where your fingers are still curled around his hand. “Mateo.” The name makes your body tense instinctively at the mention of it, and he brushes his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing gesture. “The intention was to bring him in alive, but… he got caught in the crossfire.”

It’s a lie built on necessity and self-preservation, but a lie nonetheless. His dark eyes search your face, gauging your reaction.

Your lips part slightly as you process what he’s just said: Mateo. Dead.

You can finally be in control of your own life again… good riddance, right? You should feel relief, maybe even vindication.

And yet, the feeling is muted, tangled up in something you can’t quite place.

Is it the lingering haze of sleeping with Javier clouding your judgement? Or is it the unsettling knowledge that this death, even while deserved, will find a way to sneak back into your mind when you least expect it? Will it resurface in the future, leaving you grappling with emotions you don’t want to feel for a man who tried to have you killed?

You look up at Javi. His eyes are a deep, earthy brown of aged mahogany—steadfast, enduring, yet weathered by time and trials. You search them, hoping the steady intensity might offer you some clarity.

Instead, all you find is an intangible burden. What would it take, you wonder, to dim that tragic glint that eclipses his beautiful eyes?

Still, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Good.” You tighten your grip on his hand, your smaller fingers pressing against his rougher, calloused ones. “Thank you.”

Javier’s molars grind together at your quiet gratitude. It’s like chewing glass, and he has to toke on the cigarette to ease the feeling.

Would you still feel this way if you knew the truth? If you knew that Mateo’s death wasn’t just a convenient win, but a calculated decision with the help of bad men just like him.

Would you still be thankful then?

Your fingers slip from his hand to his cheek, tilting his face toward you. The softness in your touch undoes the tension at his jaw. “You don’t have to carry this alone,” you say quietly, like you’ve somehow caught onto the turmoil simmering beneath his stoic exterior. “Not with me.”

He closes his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch despite himself. You have no idea just how much shit he’s already hauling, how much he’ll never let you see. “You’re safe now,” is all he can bring himself to say, and it feels like both assurance and a deflection. “That’s all that matters.”

Javier stands in the lone office, his mind weighed with the heaviness of recent conversations. Stechner’s words reverberate like a stinging slap.

“For everything you know, you’re extremely naïve.”

The condescension was thornier than he wanted to admit, piercing through his frustration more sharply than the looming fallout.

He’s been fired. Reassigned. Whatever bureaucratic label they slapped on it.

The scandal of his ties with the vigilante squad has finally blown up in his face. By morning, he’ll be on a flight back to Laredo with nothing but his duffel bag and a bruised sense of self.

He should have seen it coming. Hell, he did see it coming, but he still walked straight into it, didn’t he?

This is what happens when you gamble with drug traffickers and criminals, people whose loyalties shift like sand.

Trusting them had been an obvious mistake. But trusting the U.S. government to have his back? That was downright foolish. Those assholes were playing their own games under the guise of diplomacy.

Stechner was right—he is naïve, thinking he could wrest something just out of this mess on his own terms. Justice could never be carved out of deceit and bloodshed.

There’s no victory to claim. Just dirtied hands and sleepless nights.

Well… it wasn’t all for nothing. There’s you. The one silver fucking lining in this entire shitshow.

But even that was about to collapse under the weight of his failures. He’d have to tell you. But how the hell could he look into your eyes and explain everything he’d done? The compromises, the lies, the violence he had incurred.

That he’s leaving?

Javier drags a hand down his face, the lines on his brow deepening with each thought.

Disgust. That’s what he expects to see when he tells you. Maybe judgment, too.

He knows himself too well. The moment he looks into your eyes, he’ll falter, take the coward’s way out and give you only half-truths wrapped in feeble excuses.

The clock ticks on the wall behind him, each second louder than the last, a metronome counting down to his own undoing. If he doesn’t get out of here soon, he’ll drown in his own misery and ruin the night before it even begins.

You have been looking forward to the New Year’s Eve party. The embassy’s farewell to another tumultuous year, held at some ritzy bar downtown.

Javier would have skipped it without a second thought if it were up to him. But you’d been excited, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of something normal, craving it, so he agreed to be your date.

The timing couldn’t be worse. The night should be about new beginnings, but all Javier can feel is the heaviness of his impending departure. And he has no idea when—or how—he’s going to find the words to say goodbye.

His body moves on autopilot until he’s standing outside your door, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side before rapping his knuckles against the wood.

The door swings open, and there you are—radiant, with that smile that could light up even the darkest corners of his life. It’s so warm, so genuine, it hurts more than it soothes him.

“Hey,” you greet cheerfully, stepping aside to let him in. “That was a lot quicker than I expected. Is everything okay?”

For a moment Javi hesitates, an explanation stuck in his throat. He crosses the threshold, shutting the door behind him.

His eyes sweep over you almost involuntarily as you turn and head back toward the bathroom. The skirt of your dress sways with each step, modest in length but criminal in how it hugs your figure. His gaze locks onto the swing of your hips, hungry and selfish, his feet moving as if tethered to yours.

“Everything’s fine.” The words come out clipped, his tone consciously flat. He doesn’t want to invite more questions, doesn’t want you to see through the cracks forming in his wavering facade.

You don’t press him, too preoccupied with the mirror, inspecting your makeup. You swipe another dab of blush across your cheeks, leaning in closer to scrutinize your reflection. “Too much?”

He stands in the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame as he leans against it, watching you with an enamored look he doesn’t bother hiding. “Looks perfectly fine to me,” he replies gruffly, though he means it.

Things between you two have settled into uncharted waters. That night on his couch had been electric, a collision of want and need that left you both reeling. But since then, you’ve held back, keeping the boundaries undefined.

It’s not that you don’t want him—every time he’s near, your body remembers the way he felt inside you, the way he made you feel whole again.

However, there’s something he’s holding back, and you can feel it in the way his gaze lingers on you for too long. You've decided not to push, not while you’re still piecing yourself back together, taking cautious steps on your own journey of healing.

Still, the love between you is undeniable. You feel it in the way he holds you at night, his arms firm yet tender as you drift off to sleep. It’s there in the softer timbre he uses when you talk over the phone while he’s stationed in Medellín.

Even though you’re been back in your apartment now, every night he’s in the capital, he’s either at your place or you’re at his.

You’ve returned to work, and while it’s helped you settle back into a sense of normalcy, it doesn’t feel the same.

The small routines you’ve fallen into do bring you comfort, despite the bigger questions that loom in the background.

You find yourself wondering if it’s time to leave the clerical work behind and seek something greater, something that aligns with the new version of yourself you’re trying to uncover.

Then there’s the question of where you’ll go from here—literally. Colombia has become more than a temporary home, and you’ve realized there’s little waiting for you where you’re from. Truthfully, you could go anywhere. But do you want to?

The answer is clear: the only person you want to be with is standing in your hallway.

“Thanks for coming out with me to this. I know it’s not exactly your kind of night.” You glance at him over your shoulder, adjusting the last details of your appearance in the mirror. “Want a drink?”

“It’s not,” he concurs, his voice carrying a teasing lilt, “but there’s no way I’m letting you go out there alone looking this beautiful.” His gaze sweeps over you once more as he follows you back out into the living room, his flattery leaving no room for misunderstanding.

The compliment lands as intended and you feel the apples of your cheeks tingling warmly. “You’re sweet,” you murmur as you pour both of your drinks at the bar cart.

A comfortable silence settles between you, broken only by the crackle of the record player in the corner, spinning a soft tune you both half recognize. For a moment, it feels easy. Natural.

When you turn back to him, you hold out his glass with a small, shy smile.

Should he tell you now? Get it over with and rip it off like a bandaid. But as you take a step closer, your voice breaches his spiraling thoughts.

“¿Estás seguro que todo está bien?” (Are you sure everything is alright?) You ask, your brows knitting with quiet concern.

His grip around the glass tightens slightly. He swallows the bitterness lodged in his throat, the words forming in his mind before dissolving into silence. Instead, he forces a half-smile, his tone turning light, almost flippant.

“De mí no te preocupes cariño,” (Don’t worry about me) he tells you softly. “Debemos celebrar el Año Nuevo sin ninguna mamada.” (We should celebrate the New Year without any bullshit)

You search his face, sensing the weight he’s trying to hide, but when his hand lifts to brush against your cheek, your resolve falters. The back of his knuckles are rough, calloused, but his touch is achingly gentle. You lean into him instinctively, your eyelashes fluttering as a sense of calm washes over you.

He’s right. Whatever weight he’s carrying, whatever darkness lingers behind his eyes, it can wait until tomorrow. Tonight is about enjoying the fleeting moments of joy.

“Okay.” When your eyes meet him again, there’s gentleness there, a silent agreement to leave the worries behind.

Javier tips his glass toward yours in a silent toast, a half smile pulling at his pouty lips. “Salud.”

“Salud,” you echo, clinking your glass against his.

From his spot at the bar, Javier’s eyes stay glued to you, the knot in his chest tightening with each laugh that escapes your glossed lips. You’re standing with a group of your coworkers, your head tilted back as you throw yourself into some joke he couldn’t hear.

The sound of a countdown filters through the bar, and the announcer’s voice booms that there are five minutes left until the new year.

As if on cue, you start making your way back to him, your expression alight with excitement.

“They’re setting off fireworks on the roof! We should get up there before it gets too crowded,” you suggest, the words spilling out with the eagerness of someone who’s had just enough to drink.

Javier nods, his lips twitching into a faint smile in one of those rare moments where his amusement is genuine and unguarded. He finishes the last sip of his drink, sliding off the barstool suavely.

Before you can take more than a step, his arm loops around your waist, pulling you closer.

The haze of the drinks and his steady warmth make you feel like you’re walking on air as he guides you to the stairs leading to the rooftop.

When you step outside, the cool night air nips at your bare shoulders, making you shiver. You turn on your heel, already halfway to suggesting going back for your coat when Javier beats you to it.

“Just take mine,” he says, shrugging out of his leather jacket gallantly. He drapes it over your shoulders, the weight of it heavy but comforting, the potent scent of him wrapping around you like a second skin, making you giddy.

The sleeves fall far past your hands and you let out a contented laugh. “Gracias, Javi,” you angle yourself to press a kiss to his cheek.

With his hand in yours, you tug him toward the edge of the rooftop, where the city sprawls out below in a sea of twinkling lights.

“You know, despite all the violence and corruption, this country really is so beautiful.”

Javier doesn’t respond right away. His gaze shifts from the city to you, longingly. “Yeah,” he agrees in a raspy timbre, “it is.”

But his words aren’t meant for the city. They’re meant for you.

An eager, ill-timed firework crackles in the distance, a single streak of light exploding into a shower of gold and white over the skyline.

“Look at that,” you whisper, the sound barely audible over the growing cheers and whistles of the crowd.

Javier doesn’t look at the fireworks. He can’t. His gaze is glued to you, the way the vibrant colors illuminate your features, casting you in a kaleidoscope of light.

He’s memorizing everything about this moment: the tilt of your lips as you smile, the slight raise in your brow as you lose yourself in the spectacle, his jacket draped over your shoulders.

The countdown begins, voices around you picking up in excitement.

Ten… nine…

You glance up at him, your face glowing with the anticipation of a fresh start with the only person you want by your side. “Javi,” the way his name rolls off your tongue jabs at his crumbling walls.

Eight… seven…

He manages a fleeting smile, the corners of his mouth tugging upward despite the leaden weight of his turmoil on his back.

Six… five…

Your free hand comes up to rest lightly on his chest, your fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt. “Thank you for being here.”

Four… three…

“Always,” he replies, even though it’s a lie.

Two… one…

You both lean in at the same time, as if pulled by some invisible thread. Your lips meet his in a kiss that feels as inevitable as the sunrise. It’s soft at first, tender and unhurried, but it shifts quickly, urgency fueling it.

The rooftop erupts in cheers as the first moments of the new year are ushered in with a thunderous cascade of fireworks. The sky is alive with bursts of red, white, gold.

For you, it feels like the perfect moment, the start of something good. You can’t imagine wanting anything else but this—him, here, now.

For Javier, it feels like a bittersweet end. Laced with his unspoken heartbreak, a desperate attempt to memorize the taste of your lips, the way your body fits so perfectly against his, before everything comes crashing down.

When you finally pull back, your cheeks are hot, your smile radiant as you look up at him. “Feliz Año Nuevo.”

He forces a smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Happy New Year, cariño.”

You surge forward again, the pull of him irresistible. Your hands cradle his jaw as your tongue teases against his bottom lip, a silent plea he answers without hesitation. His mouth parts, letting you in—hot and enthralling, making your toes curl in your heels.

His fingers slide lower, grabbing a possessive handful of your ass. A soft moan escapes you, muffled against his mouth, and your thighs instinctively press together, trying to quell the thrum of arousal beginning to pulse at your cunt.

“Take me home,” you whisper desperately as you break away, all shaky and breathless. Your eyes meet his dark and hooded ones, mirroring your own need.

For a second, Javier doesn’t move, caught in the crossfire of his own thoughts. But as he looks at you, sees the way, your pupils are blown wide with desire—any lingering hesitation crumbles.

“Let’s go.”

He leads you through the crowd, his broad shoulders parting the sea of people like he was made to shield you from the chaos.

Your pulse races, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach as the fireworks continue to explode above, unnoticed by either of you.

You love how his weight settles over you, his hands traveling in hunger across every inch of your skin. The way you grind against him feels like second nature, your body responding to his every move with an unrelenting need.

You hadn’t expected him to take his time like this, stretching out every moment of foreplay as if he’s trying to make it last forever.

It’s the third time tonight he’s taken you apart with his mouth, but this time, his fingers are joining in, plunging into your soaked heat while his tongue flicks over your clit in a rhythm that makes you see fireworks erupting against your vision.

Your legs tremble uncontrollably, your body twisting against the damp sheets as you struggle to stay present.

Javier’s tongue drags slow circles over your swollen nub before he sucks it into his mouth, the gentle pull sending sharp jolts down your spine.

His fingers curl inside you, brushing against that devastating spot that has your back arching clean off the mattress.

“Javi!” you cry out, hips stuttering against his face as the wave of your climax crashes over you. His hooked nose presses against you as you fall apart.

He doesn’t stop. He’s utterly lost in you—your sweet headiness, the way your walls squeeze around his fingers. You have to yank hard on his hair to finally pull him away, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he looks up at you, mouth glistening with your release.

He licks his lips slowly, savoring every last bit. There’s a desperate intensity in his eyes, like his palate is memorizing the taste of you.

Javier kisses his way up your body, stopping to worship your breasts, his tongue and teeth teasing each peak until you’re squirming, your pussy continuously drooling for him.

When his lips finally crash against yours, it’s messy as he lets you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roam over his broad back, tracing the curve of muscle and sinew, appreciating the feel of his skin against yours. You sigh softly, content to be pinned beneath him.

“Turn over. On your stomach.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the order, and though your body feels overwhelmed from his attention, you obey without hesitation. Your desire for him outweighs everything else.

Javier shifts back, giving you room to move. You reposition yourself, chest and stomach pressed flat against the mattress while your hips lift, aided by the pillow he slides beneath you.

The cool air kisses your exposed skin, and you hear him groan behind you—a deep sound that has your pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Tan hermosa,” he whispers hoarsely, his rough hands caressing your ass before delivering a playful smack that makes you gasp. The flesh jiggles under his touch, and he leans down to place a tender kiss on your shoulder, biting softly as he aligns himself behind you.

You feel the head of his cock drag through your folds, gathering the slick mess he’s drawn from you before pressing against your wet entrance. He pushes in slowly, the stretch making your mouth fall open in a silent cry.

“Javier,” you whimper, your fingers clutching the sheets as he fills you inch by inch.

The angle is devastating, reaching places you didn’t even know existed, and all you can do is hold on tight.

His strong thighs cage yours, while his broad frame looms over you, his toned arms braced on either side of your head. Each measured thrust sends his heavy balls slapping against your puffy, soaked clit.

“Puta madre, you’re so fuckin’ tight like this.” He lowers more of his weight onto you, pressing you further into the mattress, his thrusts growing more delirious.

The force of his movements pulls unrestrained moans from your lips, each one echoing with pure, unfiltered satisfaction.

Your trembling hands fumble over the sheets until they find his calloused palms pressing firmly into the sheets.

Without hesitation, you intertwine your fingers with his, your softer touch setting off something feral inside him. He starts to pound into you, his hips snapping hard and fast as though the world outside this room doesn’t exist.

Your pussy clamps around on him in response, helplessly succumbing to his pace. Your hips instinctively try to push back against him but his weight over you, so dominant, keeps you in place, forcing you to take the entirety of his cock.

“I-I—” The words tumble out, but they’re incoherent, your mind too clouded with the way he breaks you open, your sex swallowing him in even deeper.

“Another one already? I should’ve taken care of you and this perfect pussy a long,” he thrusts hard, “time,” another sharp snap of his hips, “ago.”

“Ah!” you shriek, your nails digging into his hands where your fingers remain entwined, your vision crossing as he hits that spot inside you that flares your orgasm. “Just like that. Don’t stop, Javi.”

He doesn’t falter nor considers easing up, inducing another wave of stickiness from your cunt.

The obscene sounds of your bodies meeting—wet and raw—fill the room, punctuated by the shameless cries spilling from your throat. Your climax slams into you with breathtaking intensity, your pussy spasming and gripping him so tightly, it pulls a scratchy groan from his lips.

Javier finally stills, buried to the hilt, letting you ride out the aftershocks as your shaking body collapses beneath him. He peppers soft kisses across your damp shoulders and down your spine, his mustache bristling deliciously against your skin.

When his lips find the curve of your neck, he lingers, licking at the delicate flesh there as though he can’t get enough of you.

Four orgasms in, your body feels utterly spent, your thighs trembling as the weight of exhaustion begins to set in. You turn your head, your voice soft as you murmur, “Javi.”

He lifts his head, his eyes searching yours with concern. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, a lazy smile curling at your lips. “Just… hold me.”

His chest rises and falls with a staggered breath, the weight of his departure lingers like a shadow over the moment, threatening to sour it. But he pushes it away.

He pulls out of you slowly, the wet slide drawing a hushed whimper from your lips. He rolls onto his side, gathering you into his arms and tucking you against his chest. His still-hard cock, satiny and heavy, presses against your stomach, impossible to ignore.

You glance up at him, fingers trailing down his sternum toward his length. “Do you want me to…?”

He catches your wrist gently, stopping you. “No. Not yet.”

You hum your understanding, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. His arms tighten around you, his lips brushing the top of your head as the two of you settle into a lull of lazy, unhurried affection.

Kisses are exchanged between whispered words, hands mapping the planes of the other’s body.

Everything about him is so damn addictive.

The lust that simmers reignites, pulling you under its spell, and this time, you don’t wait for permission. Your palm wraps firmly around his cock, tugging him languidly.

Javier’s lashes flutter, his head falling back slightly, exposing the strong line of his throat. A low sound escapes him as his hips move instinctively to match your strokes. “Fuck,” he groans, strained, “Así mero.” (Just like that)

Your thumb brushes over the bead of precum glistening at his tip, smearing it down his length, making him shudder. His jaw tightens, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

The whisper of his name is laced with need as your lips trace his neck. “I need you again.”

He hooks one of your legs over his hip, the other tangled with his in a side-styled missionary, your bodies pressed so tightly together that you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your breasts.

Your pussy lips part open, eager for him, and the anticipation buzzes through your body. You guide him where you need him and he lets his hips take over, the thick, spongy tip sinking into you until he’s fully seated.

A gasp escapes your lips as he starts to move, slow and purposeful.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he keeps them hidden, burying his face against your throat, engulfing you in his arms entirely.

The thought of losing you cleaves at him, and a desperate idea flits through his mind—if he could just open up, let you see the broken pieces of himself, maybe you’d understand. Maybe you’d come with him to Laredo, let him show you, and himself, the quiet beauty of a life together on his family ranch.

The fantasy swells in his chest, making his thrusts grow more passionate. His teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder, almost enough to hurt.

You’re barely human anymore, lost in the voracious sensation of his cock stretching and filling you; just a mass of feverish energy.

Your fingers dig into his back, nails raking across his sweat-slicked skin as you cling to him, completely uncaring of the sticky warmth where your bodies connect or the thick scent of sex that permeates the air.

“Oh god, Javier,” you cry out, your voice breaking on a moan as you tilt your head back. “Keep doing that—oh my god—I love you.”

Your words are a jolt to his system, breaking down every defense he has left. He groans your name as his mouth trails up your throat, leaving a broad stripe of his tongue in its wake before nipping gently at your jaw.

“Say it again,” he breathes heavily as his hips grind deeper, the motion pulling an uncontrolled cry from you, your body jolting against his.

“I love you,” you babble as his movements turn rougher, more desperate.

He presses his forehead to yours, his gaze dark and wanton. “Kiss me,” he rasps.

You obey without hesitation, your lips finding his in a feverish clash of need and devotion.

Tongues tangle and teeth graze as if you’re trying to devour each other, your bodies writhing, desperate to become one.

“Where do you want it?” Javi grits out, hovering on the edge of his release. His chest heaves, feeling your nipples brushing his skin while his muscles turn taut as he tries to hold himself back for your answer.

You’re quivering from the aftermath of what feels like your fifth orgasm, maybe sixth—you’ve lost count.

Your mind is hazy, clouded with exhaustion and bliss, that his question barely registers. Your fingers clutch at his forearms, nails leaving crescent moons in his skin as you look up at him.

You manage a soft pout with trembling lips. “Inside,” You need it badly, your pussy instinctively clenching around his cock at the prospect of him filling you. Then, with more desperation, you plead. “Please, Javi.”

The way your lips purse, the edge of tears in your voice have his instincts taking over. A greedy, lustful desire too overpowering to resist.

He has to give you what you’re begging for.

“Fuck,” Javi groans, his head dropping against your shoulder, his voice muffled as curses and ragged breaths spill from his lips. He finishes inside of you in hot, shuddering waves.

The heat of his cum stuffing you has a blissful mewl escaping your lips. Your pussy insatiably holding onto every drop, milking him as though your body can’t bear to let him go.

He remains there, his cock twitching inside as the both of you ride out the ecstasy.

Javi makes no move to pull out, instead his arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close as his spend drips out around his cock and down to his balls.

Time feels like it bends and stretches, the minutes melting into hours as you lose yourselves in each other.

You fuck, you make out, you touch each other so tenderly that you’re certain you somehow managed to retrieve a slice of heaven right here in your bedroom.

The night gives way to the distant glow of dawn. The room is bathed in a soft, golden light as the sun peeks over the horizon.

You’re both exhausted, your bodies aching from the endless push and pull of pleasure, yet neither of you seems willing to stop.

Javier hovers above you, half lidded gaze locked with yours. Your legs are loosely wrapped around his middle while his hips move suavely.

“Just one more,” he’s practically begging as those brown eyes of his bore into yours. He just needs one more. “You can do it, pretty girl. I know you can. Been doin’ so good all night.”

His lips finally find yours in an ardent kiss, swallowing your moans as your body tightens around him yet again. You’re lost in all he’s given you, your world spinning as your final orgasm tears through you.

He follows shortly after, his hand wrapped around your jaw as he holds you steady while he pumps you full of his cum.

Javi turns gentle as he plants sweet kisses on your forehead, your nose, your lips. He caresses your thighs then up your side as your breathing slows.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just relax.”

He continues to knead and fondle, murmuring soft praises until you’re completely at ease, melting into him.

You’re drifting toward sleep, limbs heavy and utterly spent, your body glowing in the soft light of early morning. The faint sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, catching rays as they filter through the curtains.

Javier leans against the headboard, eyes tracing the length of your body beneath the sheets. The serenity in your expression tugs at a longing so profound, it’s painful. When his gaze flicks to the alarm clock on the bedside table, the time glares at him in bold red numbers.

His flight boards in a little over three hours.

The lump in his throat swells, a heavy, choking pressure that makes it feel like it’s going to explode and rupture his neck. He prays you can’t feel the way his heart beats erratically or how his body seems to radiate a fever level temperature as the anxiety settles in.

Fuck.

He moves slowly, not wanting to wake you. Carefully, he shifts your body, rolling you to your side. You’re so pliant, so exhausted that you murmur something unintelligible before nuzzling into the pillow.

He hesitates, watching as your breathing deepens again.

His jeans are tugged on first, the soft rustle of fabric barely audible in the quiet room. He doesn’t bother buttoning his shirt, draping it over his shoulders as he moves around, collecting his belongings.

Maybe this is the cleanest way, he thinks bitterly. To just leave. Slip out before the inevitable fallout. You’ll hate him either way—better to make a quick exit than to sit through the heartbreak, to explain the compromised morals that led him here.

But as he tugs his boot on, you stir. Your arm stretches across the empty space where he once was, craving his warmth. When you feel nothing, you open your eyes, squinting against the pale light.

“Javi?” You call out drowsily and a little confused.

For a moment, he considers staying silent, waiting to see if you’ll fall back into slumber. But then you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the heel of your hand.

You don’t care about the mascara smudged beneath your lashes or the eyeliner smearing your waterline. All you care about is the sight of him standing there, half-dressed, looking like he’s about to bolt.

“Why are you getting dressed?”

Javier licks his teeth, buying time he doesn’t have. His fingers flexing as if searching for something to hold onto. You catch the pained set of his jaw.

“I’m leaving.”

You blink, slow and disbelieving, as if the action will somehow help you make sense of what he just said. “Leaving? Where are you going?”

“To the airport.”

“Airport?” You’re more awake now, moving to the edge of the bed and reaching under where your robe lies in a heap.

The soreness in your muscles makes you wince as you bend to grab it, slipping it on as you stand. Your legs are wobbly, the remnants of the all nighter making themselves known. “Why? Did you get called back to Medellín?”

Javier watches you silently, his teeth grinding when you walk to him, your expression expectant and confused.

“I’m going back to Texas,” he finally answers.

“Texas?” The frown on your face deepens. “Is your dad okay?”

For you to assume his departure is over his father’s wellbeing somehow makes this worse. His lips press into a thin line, eyes darting away. “He’s fine.”

“Then why are you—” You pause, exhaling sharply, exasperation bubbling at his curt replies. You hate when he gets like this. You figured you’d be past it now.“Why are you going back?”

He struggles to form but a few words at a time. “I got suspended,” he tells you. “Indefinitely. Flight’s out at nine.”

The room falls silent. That’s the last thing you expected to hear.

“How long have you known?”

“Found out this afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You glare at him. “You were just going to leave without saying anything?” That hurts.

“I didn’t want to ruin your night. I was trying to make it easier.” He stupidly answers.

“Easier?” Your voice rises slightly, incredulous. “Sneaking out after spending all night with me makes this easier? For who, Javi? You or me?”

His expression blazes with guilt. “You don’t understand what this is—what I’m trying to… protect you from.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you fire back, your hands trembling as you tuck them into the pockets of your robe to keep from reaching for him. “You tell me that you love me and give me all these empty promises only to sneak out after you’ve fucked me.” He winces. “What are you protecting me from now? From you? From us?”

Javier’s nostrils flare, his breathing ragged. Every point you make is so valid and it crushes him. “From the mess I’ve made.”

“Then tell me what the hell happened.” You can’t help him if you don’t know what’s killing him. “Be direct. Stop shutting me out and just talk to me! I deserve that much.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to deflect again, to retreat into the same cagey silence. But then he exhales sharply, like the words are being dragged out of him against his will.

“I killed him.”

The simplicity of it leaves you puzzled. “Who?”

“Mateo.”

Your chest tightens, trying to recall what he’s already told you about the other’s demise. “You said he died in the crossfire—”

“I lied.” The admission lands with the force of a hit, and Javier’s eyes meet yours, pleading for understanding but knowing it’s a futile hope. “I found him. Holed up in Cartagena. I dragged him out myself. Took him to a warehouse.” He grows quieter with each word, but the confession barrels forward. “I beat him. Then I emptied the entire clip into his body.”

The room goes deathly still, the echoes of his words lingering in the air. Even the rhythm of your breathing slows, like your body needs time to process what you’ve just heard.

“You… you dragged him out,” you repeat, as if saying it again might change its meaning. “You took him to a warehouse.”

He nods once, a sharp, curt motion, feeling as if he’s watching this outside of himself.

“And you—” The words burn in your throat. “You killed him. Like that. You… tortured him.”

“I had to.” The anguish bleeds through his words.

Had to.

It feels like the ground has just given out beneath you. Your lips part, but no words come. You’re staring at him like you’re seeing someone entirely different.

“Had to?” you can’t help but parrot, the excuse tastes bitter on your tongue. “Why couldn’t you just arrest him?” Mateo deserved all his suffering, sure, but it wasn’t up to Javier to enact it as so.

You’d made peace with the idea of his death when you thought it happened in the chaos of a raid. But this? This is something else entirely.

“It’s not that simple,” he tries, his voice rigid with frustration, but it feels like an insult to your intelligence.

“Is this why you got fired? Because they found out you killed him?”

Another pause. His hesitation only stokes the fire burning in your chest.

“No.”

Now you’re spiraling, your mind racing to conjure something worse than killing a man that could’ve cost him his career.

You take a step closer, toe to toe now, your robe hanging loosely off your frame, his shirt still unbuttoned and exposing his chest. It’s hard to believe you were just entwined in carnal bliss. “What did you do, Javier?”

There’s so much hurt laced in your question, it’s a wonder the room doesn’t shatter around you. He looks away, his lips rubbing absentmindedly, mustache twitching as he struggles to form a response.

“I cooperated with them,” his confession feels jagged. “The cartels. The paramilitary assholes. Get Escobar—that was the goal.”

Your legs move on instinct, a shaky step backward, and Javier follows reflexively, his hand half-reaching for you before he thinks better of it. His presence only makes it worse, his body too close, his words too loud in your ears.

It’s like every fear wrapped into one devastating realization. After everything you went through—after the pain he watched you try to claw your way back from—he still went out there, trading his soul for deals made in blood.

“You knew what they did to me,” disappointment strings your words together, and while you understand that it wasn’t the same men who jumped you—they are all still cut from the same cloth. “You saw what they took from me, and you still…”

“There wasn’t another way,” he insists, desperate now, the plea in his eyes almost unbearable to look at. “I did what I had to do to bring him down.”

“There’s always another way!” You yell, the words ripping from your throat like they’re trying to drag the hurt out of you with them. “But you didn’t care. Not about the innocent people they killed or the lives they ruined.”

His face twists in anguish, as if he hadn’t been beating himself up for all the civilians that became casualties, but you don’t stop. The distress boils over, spilling out of you in a torrent. “The job always takes priority. Above everything—above everyone.”

Your hands act on their own, shoving at his chest as if the force could make him feel even an ounce of the pain you’re carrying. Javier doesn’t resist. He lets you push him, lets your palms land against him over and over, taking it all because he knows he deserves it.

“How am I supposed to look at you the same?” You demand, tears streaming freely down your face now, each one a testament to the betrayal sinking its claws into you. You shove him again, harder this time, backing him toward the living room. “How am I supposed to trust you when you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

His own eyes glisten, cheek tensing in distress, but he doesn’t say a word because he can’t.

“You’re no better, Javier. You’re just like them.”

You begin to get flashbacks of your confrontation with Mateo. His callous words echo in your head, overlapping with Javier’s explanations. The two begin to blur together, their justifications eerily aligned, like different faces of the same haunting coin.

“This world isn’t all black and white like you think it is. People like me—we do what we have to, to survive.”

You stare at him, and for a moment, he’s not the man you love anymore. He’s another wraith from the nightmare you barely escaped.

“I know.”

He’s such a self-aware asshole, and it makes you livid. The way he stands there, bracing himself like he knows he deserves everything you’re throwing at him—like he’s already written himself off as the villain in this story. It’s infuriating.

The morning light streams in through the windows, slicing across the room in uneven beams. It’s amplifying everything: every emotion, every movement, every goddamn look he gives you as you stand off in the middle of the living room.

“Despite it all… you still found the time to fuck me. And I let you.”

You can feel the fire licking up your neck, but it’s not from embarrassment—it’s from the sting of humiliation. How you let yourself be fooled twice by two different men.

You tighten your robe around you, the soft fabric suddenly feeling like sandpaper against your skin. Everything feels wrong now.

He watches you, his expression etched with guilt for making you question your worth. Despite it, he doesn’t regret taking you to bed.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” you continue, more to yourself than to him, carrying anger and self-loathing. “For trusting you again. For ignoring every single red flag you waved in my face. You weren’t just a shitty friend, Javi. You were a walking disaster, and I still let you back in.”

He flinches, but it’s not enough. You want him to feel it, to feel the way your heart aches and how your trust, fragile and carefully rebuilt, crumbles to dust at your feet.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” you state with another shove, forcing him closer to the front door. He continues to comply, stumbling backwards in silence, letting you release it all.

“If you cared about me at all, you would’ve stayed away. You just had to come back, had to get your hands on me again. And I was so desperate—so fucking desperate to believe you’d be different.”

You laugh tearfully, hands falling to your sides as you stand in the short hallway that leads to the entrance. “But you’re not different. You’re just a man with nothing but a big ego that’s drowning in his own penitence.”

He swallows hard, your words reverberating with the sickening truth and he wills himself to speak.

“Nothing was getting done,” Javi begins, the weariness of it all finally breaking him. “No one fucking cared. That motherfucker kept killing people, bombing the streets all while getting richer and untouchable. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, it wasn’t enough. And then—” His voice tapers, gaze dropping for just a moment before moving back to yours.

“And then you got hurt. That was one thing I could fix. I could right the wrong, make you feel safer. I did it for you!”

“For me?” You scoff out a doubting laugh. “So, what, you decided you’d be judge, jury, and executioner? You think killing him—brutally, no less—makes any of it better? That it erases what he did to me?”

“It was a start—”

“You didn’t do this for me, Javier,” you cut him off, your voice teetering with fury and hurt. “You did it for you. To ease your guilt, to feel like you had control.”

His breathing grows ragged, his hands trembling at his sides. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to get so fucking lost I couldn’t tell the good guys from the bad anymore? I did what I had to do!”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know how else to fix this,” he fires back.

“And I don’t know how to believe you,” you whisper, the fight draining from your voice as tears spill freely down your cheeks. “All you do is hurt me, Javi.”

Javier steps back, his shoulders slumping, his entire frame caving in. Desperation flickers in his eyes as he reaches for the only card he has left to play—the last, sapped attempt to salvage what little remains.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, though it’s barely audible. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Your body freezes when he gets closer. His large hands tremble slightly as they cup your face.

“I never wanted to hurt you. Te amo.” He murmurs, his voice soft and pained as his forehead presses against yours. His lips brush yours, and it sends a jolt through your body, a cruel reminder of all the ways he’s managed to slither his way back into your heart and mind.

Your lips quiver, salty wet trails streaking your cheeks. “No,” you whisper, shaking your head and pushing against his chest, your palms meeting his bare skin where his shirt falls open. You manage to break away, the distance between you offering only the barest reprieve.

But Javier doesn’t stop. He steps forward again, crowding you, his desperation palpable. “Please, cariño,” he implores. “I love you. I need you to know that. I’m sorry—so sorry.” The words tumble out of him in a desperate loop, growing more frantic each time, as if sheer repetition might somehow undo the damage.

And fuck do you hear the genuine ache there, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve heard it all before—the apologies, the promises, the declarations. None of it fixes this.

Despite your actions, your body betrays you. Even as you try to shove him away, you feel the magnetic pull, the infuriating draw that keeps you tangled in his orbit. It’s a push and pull, your hands shoving at his chest while your heart screams at you to stop.

And you hate him for it. For the way he makes you feel. For the way his arms still feel like home even as your love for him falls apart.

“All I hear is excuses. Like always. Get off me, Javier.” Your voice shakes, but the resolve in it is ironclad, each word laced with finality. You swallow back your sobs, forcing yourself to sound strong—for him, for yourself. He hears it too; the end is in your tone. You’re done.

His hands linger on your waist for a moment longer, the satin of your robe bunched helplessly in his grasp. Reluctantly, he lets go, his back brushing against the doorknob as if the exit is pushing him to leave.

Javier’s gaze lingers over you one last time, absorbing every detail like a man cataloging his losses.

The swollen redness of your eyes and how you seem to fold into yourself as if shielding your heart from further harm. Because of him. The betrayal etched deep into your expression cuts deeper than any wound he’s ever felt. Because of him. It all screams painful vulnerability, lowered self-esteem you didn’t have before.

All he’s done is hurt you. Him and his inability to separate his good intentions from his devastating habits. Him and his selfishness, pursuing you when he knew better.

Now you get a good look at him: disheveled, bags shadowing his weary eyes, faint bruises staining his jawline, his heaving chest exposed and slick with the sweat of desperation.

You both stand in silence, weighed down by words unspoken because there’s nothing left to say. The air between you is charged with the knowledge that you despise what he’s become.

He reaches for the door and opens it, the sound of the bolt sliding back loud in the tense silence.

Time marches on, indifferent to your heartbreak, and Javier hesitates, his boots heavy as they meet the threshold.

Gathering every ounce of strength left in you, you find your voice. “Please leave… and don’t come back.”

Your voice prompts him, cold and resolute, and it takes everything in him to obey. He steps out, the apartment door left wide open behind him.

He turns, desperate for one last look, the soft daylight framing him like a man on the edge of a cliff. “I love you.”

You grip the edge of the door, willing yourself not to fall apart further. “Not anymore,” you whisper, venom interwoven through the statement. “Never again.”

And with that, you shut the door in his face, turning the lock with trembling hands.

The weight of it all crashes over you now that you’re alone and you stumble back, collapsing right there on the floor. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow to muffle the sobs racking your body as you begin to mourn the loss of the man you loved.

On the other side of the door, Javier stands frozen, the loss sinking into his bones. The worn numbers of your apartment stare back at him, mocking him with their permanence.

He blinks slowly, a single tear leaking from his eye as his fingers brushing the wood one last time before he turns away, dragging his feet next door, knowing that he’s lost you forever.

Months later, you receive a letter.

The envelope is creased and smudged, the handwriting unmistakably his—slanted, hurried, like he couldn’t get the words down fast enough. You almost toss it, but that small, unhealed part in your heart with his name carved on it keeps you from doing so.

I’m sorry. For everything. I think about you every day, and I know I have no right to, but I do. I hope you’re happy. You deserve that much…

You read it over and over until the words blur.

You never write back. There’s no reason to.

Some love stories don’t end with a clean break or a tidy resolution. Some just… linger, like a wound that scabs over but never truly heals.

And that’s what you and Javier become: a scar, a memory that neither of you can fully let go of, no matter how hard you try.

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#javier peña smut #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javier peña angst #javier pena fanfic #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena angst #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader

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joeyspuckbunny · 3 days ago

Text

୨୧ ‧₊˚ mine. - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: Joe and Y/N go to the Annual Tavares' Christmas party, where Y/N meets a majority of the team for the first time. She hits it off with the young forward, Matthew Knies. Seeing Y/N so content with a younger guy, Joe gets worried about his age difference with her and the problems that may arise from it. request: hey love hope you're doing well, could you write a fic with Joseph Woll where the reader meets Matt Knies for the first time since joe and her have been dating for a while, and joe gets jealous. hope that makes sense if not ignore! ❤️ word count: 1403 warning(s): jealous joe, age gap (reader is 20 and joe is 26), insecure joe because i can't make knies actually flirt with his best friends gf, not proof read notes: this might be horrible im so sorry !! i don't see joe as the jealous type so this was a little hard but i'm trying to build my writing skills so i like the challenge. i had to add a few more tropes to make it flow better if that's ok. i hope you enjoy !!! xoxo

"Joeyyyyyy !!" you whine, sitting with the car door open, "Will you carry me? My heels are open toed and...there's snow".

It's the Annual Toronto Maple Leafs christmas party at John Tavares' home in Oakville. Joe insisted you come meet the team a bit more formally now that you two had officially been dating 6 months. You knew all their wives and girlfriends well, bonding over the joys and hardships of having a partner in pro-hockey. This was your first time meeting the actual players, though. And, boy, were you nervous.

"Sweetheart, its like 30 steps," Joe stands by your open door, in the falling snow. You pout and say "You hate me".

"I don't hate you. Actually, it's the opposite. I love you. Now, come. You know how Aryne feels when people are late".

You huff and grab your purse, jumping out of Joe's blue porsche and into the snow covering JT's driveway. Joe grabs your hand and you wander up to the front door together before you stop, suddenly. "Ok, remind me, who am I meeting tonight?". Joe sighs. You have been through this at least 5 times today.

"Y/N, you're gonna be fine. No reason to be nervous," he smiles with kind eyes. "I'm not nervous. I just want to remember who everyone is". Joe nods again and starts, "You know JT and Mitchy. Remember from the gala we went to a few weeks ago?". You nod and he continues, "You'll meet Autson, Willy, Domi, McCabe, Reavo, Mo, Lorentz, Stolie and Kniesy. They will love you, baby. Trust me."

You nod again and smile. With that, Joe rings the doorbell. JT answers the door, "Hey, guys, how are you doing? Come on in". You step into the beautifully decorated foyer of the Tavares home and hear chatter coming from the other room. JT takes your coat and you see his wife, Aryne, beckon you over into the kitchen.

You and Joe walk into the other room, soon realizing you were the last to arrive. Everyone is there. Holding drinks, talking and laughing together. It feels nice to be part of something like this. Dating Joe has been an adjustment but when you see all your new friends and the community you have built, it makes it all worth it. The girls come over and hug you, complimenting your dress or hair, while the guys exclaim at Joe's arrival, teasing him about his lateness. Domi even makes a comment on how he "cleans up real nice" and winks.

Joe makes eye contact with your from across the room and makes a motion for you to come closer. You excuse yourself from your group of friends, who have changed the subject from your outfit to what Aryne should get her mom for Christmas.

"Hi," you wave at all the new people staring at you. "I'm Y/N-". "Oh we know who you are, love, don't worry," McCabe cuts you off and smiles. Stolarz laughs and continues, "Yeah, Woller doesn't shut up about you". You smile and look over at Joe. He's blushing like crazy. "It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N," Domi give you a toothless grin. Auston shakes you hand, "Welcome to the team".

Time has gone by and you decide staying sober was not fun whilst everyone else is drunk. You get yourself a "christmas martini" (something Reavo's wife, Alanna, brought) and sat down in the living room. Joe was outside talking to Willy and Mo. He looked content from what you could see, smiling and laughing with beer in hand.

"Mind if I sit?"

You hear someone ask, snapping you back to reality. You look up and see the one and only Matthew Knies. He smiles down at you and you nod, "Of course". He nods and takes a seat beside you. "I have been meaning to talk to you. You're Y/N right?" he looks over, as if to make sure. You nod and smile, "That's me!".

"Great. I can't believe it took this long for us to meet. Joe never stops talking about you, you know. Always going on and on about how lucky he is to have you and what not. But I wanted to get to know you. From you. Tell me about yourself, Y/N. I wanna know why Joe loves you so much."

The way he speaks comes for a place of genuine interest. Joe talks about Knies a lot at home. They are close and you can tell how much they care about each other from what you see in games and what Joe tells you. You both fall into easy conversation and... let's just say, Joe takes notice.

The back wall of JT's home is lined with big glass sliding doors leading to the backyard. The guys standing outside have perfect view of everything going on inside, like it's one massive movie.

Joe looks over his shoulder. You're normally okay in social situations but with the amount of new people here, he wanted to make sure you were still having a good time. He finds you sitting over by the fireplace and at first, doesn't even notice Kniesy sitting there beside you. He is just taking in how beautiful you are. The way your smile lights up the room. The way your eyes sparkle. Everything about you reminds him why he fell in love with you in the first place. You are truly an angel on earth.

Suddenly, he looks to the left of you and sees Knies. Now, Joe isn't a possessive man by nature. The oldest of three children meant a lot of sharing as a child. But you sitting there with Knies makes him nervous. And for good reason. Knies is an attractive man who is much closer in age to you than he himself is. The age difference between the two of you never really bothered him before but it did now. Not that he was insecure about anything. He was just... worried. That's allowed, right?

"Hey, Knies, enjoying my girlfriend's company?" he says as he walks up to you. It's not a confrontational comment but he wants it to take him aback a little bit. You look up a little confused and Knies nods, "Yeah, she's amazing, man. Can't believe you bagged her". He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Isn't she?" he responds, putting his arm around you and kissing your cheek. "Joey, stop that. I'm trying to talk to Kniesy," you giggle as his stubble tickles your face. Joe nods and smiles, "Just reminding him you're mine". He the turns to his best friend, saying, "Don't get any ideas, kid," before getting up and walking away. It's a subtle act but he knows he got his message across. Even if he had nothing to worry about before, he definitely has nothing to worry about now.

You notice no animosity between Joe and Knies through the night and by the time you're ready to head out, they are giggling like school girls over stat they looked up on Joe's phone. You walk over and lean down to whisper, "Time to go, Joey,".

The process of leaving is easy. Everyone says good bye, you hug everyone and you all exchange the customary "we have to hang out more" before heading to the car. Joe hands you the keys because he's too drunk to drive and you get settled into the driver's seat.

Before you leave the driveway, you ask, "Joe, what was all that about with Knies earlier?". He looks over at you briefly and then down at his hands, like an ashamed child.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just felt... weird. It's no mystery there's a bit of a gap between our ages and Knies is so much closer in age to you than I am. I got nervous you'd realize how old I really am and leave me for... a younger model like him," he looks back up at you towards the end of his explanation.

You sigh and reply, "Joe, you're not old. 26 is not old at all. And even if our age difference bothered me, which it doesn't, I wouldn't leave you for Knies. Trust me, if we don't last forever, I won't date another hockey player ever. I love you, Joe. Don't worry. I'm yours."

He smiles and kisses your hand, "That's right, baby girl, you're mine".

#⋆. 𐙚 ˚ angel writes #⋆. 𐙚 ˚ angel writes; joey #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl imagine #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #hockey fics #hockey fanfic #joseph woll fluff #joseph woll x reader #joseph woll fanfic #joseph woll imagine #joseph woll

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fallenclan · 3 days ago

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now originally i was focused solely on the significance of cranepaw seeing a star-shaped cloud, however i'm now interested in the potential significance of jaypaw NOT seeing the cloud, what with her... affinity for the dark forest.

thus far dark forest affinity as a trait hasn't been explored, so it's unclear if this just means jaypaw is interested in the dark forest (i.e. trying to learn more about it) or has some actual sort of connection to it (i.e. being able to visit it).

cranepaw and jaypaw, the special-est sisters... and also pigeonpaw, living his best life <3

other thoughts and headcanons based on this moon:

cranepaw and jaypaw both have ravenstar's "swimming" trait!!

i really like that cranepaw has the playful trait, also. i imagine she's sort of like the opposite of her father, being less focused on ambitions and power and instead having a strong desire to nurture and help her clanmates (leading to her becoming a medicine cat). this isn't to say ravenstar didn't want to strengthen fallenclan, just that his methods were... well. not great! and instead hurt the clan more the helped it.

cranepaw strikes me as being very goofy. i imagine she gets along very well with darkstone. she really admires feathersight but he seems somewhat nervous or "off" around her sometimes. she assumes it has to do with all that he's been through, and she tries to be respectful of that. she's determined to get sylvana to crack a smile.

fawnpaw and jaypaw are "rivals." jaypaw is determined to be the best warrior she can be. she also is definitely aware of who her father is (i'm guessing finchbeak is planning on telling the kits once they're older, but i feel like jaypaw would have figured it out). jaypaw consistently pushes herself as hard as possible and is considered something of a prodigy. alternatively, fawnpaw is abrasive and loves to get into trouble... but still excels in her training, which aggravates jaypaw to no end. fawnpaw probably purposefully misbehaves and/or taunts jaypaw to provoke her.

fawnpaw thinks she and jaypaw are best friends! jaypaw thinks fawnpaw is her nemesis.

pigeonpaw is just existing peacefully. he tries to temper some of fawnpaw's more unruly attitudes and make peace between her and jaypaw, with varying degrees of success.

canarywish is a far more forgiving mentor than ravenstar, and worries about how far jaypaw pushes herself. ryewhistle gets frustrated easily with fawnpaw but also thinks she's hilarious (and is probably a divine punishment for ryewhistle's own apprenticeship misbehavior).

anyway. this is a fun batch of apprentices! i'm curious to see if we get another canarywish situation (character who seems like they'll be incredibly plot relevant but isn't, still remains a special little guy like every fallenclan cat) or if we'll see some Developments regarding the siblings in the future.

-🐉

okay damn i think you might have a direct link into my brain. how do you always get all this shit spot-on its crazy

all of this!! cranepaw is p much the opposite of her dad in terms of personality, jaypaw is pushing herself probably too hard, and pigeonpaw is also in this episode. worth mentioning that he and fawnpaw are best friends as well <3

#always a delight to get asks from you dragon fr #dragon anon #fallenasks

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jessjad · 3 days ago

Text

What if?

Summary: Dean and Y/N are living the life they always wanted. They love eachother very much and want to start a family. Everything fits just perfectly. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3637

Warnings: I don't want to give anything away here, but there are no triggers, just emotions.

A/N: This happens when you're in a certain mood. I had to express it. I hope you like it. Enjoy! All mistakes are mine!

My Masterlist

"Urgh, this was a long day." Y/N said as she flopped onto the couch exhausted.

"Yeah... I'm sorry this took so long today." answered Dean while he sat down next to her.

"No, that's not how I meant it." Y/N saw a little bit of guilt in his eyes as he looked at her apologetically. "You know I love your mum and I really like to spend time with her. It's just that... if you consider that we only wanted to meet for brunch and it is now already half past nine in the evening... it was just a long day. Without any judgment or that it was meant negatively."

And she meant what she said. Mary was a wonderful woman and a great mum to Dean. She had welcomed her into the family with opoen arms and warm words. His father John not so much, buit over time he warmed up too.

The sudden death of his father almost six months ago was all the more surprising. A tragic car accident caused by a drunk truck driver. And as much as John loved his classic car, the '67 Chevy Impala had failed to protect John when the car rolled over three times. Mary was hit hardest and since then she has been reluctant to be alone for long. And Y/N didn't mind them keeping Mary company, as she had taken her in almost like her own daughter, but she also noticed that Dean's guilty conscience was bothering him a bit.

Dean nodded his head, but did not look at his girlfriend. So she touched his cheek with her warm hand and made him look at her. "Do you know what I mean?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah, I do." now he smiled a little, but Y/N could still tell that he was not feeling fully guiltfree. "But I also know that you wanted to stroll over the book flea market in town."

He was right. Today was the last day and Y/N had hoped to get a few special books. And eventhough Dean did not share her love for books, he never complained or made fun of her. He even accompanied her to such events, even though he could probably think of better things to do. But that made her love Dean a little more anyway.

"So..." Dean said and got up again. Y/N saw him disappear into the hallway where she heared him opening the closet door before he came back with a large box in his hand. "... yesterday during my break I picked something up for you."

"What?" she asked puzzled at the box that Dean just had placed in her lap.

When she opened the box, her eyes widened in surprise. About twenty books smiled at her and for a moment she didn't know what to say. At the top there were a few collected editions of Jane Austen novels and she knew immediately that he had memorized what she liked to read and so she couldn't wait to take a close look at each book.

"You're crazy." Y/N placed the box next to her on the couch and stood up. "You really used your break to get me some books?"

She hugged Dean and he closed his arms around her right away, presing her a little closer to her. "Of course I did. I would have liked to go with you too, but somehow I had the feeling, that today might be difficult. Although of course I would still have gone there with you today if you had wanted to."

"No, this is already more than enough." Y/N said and kissed him. "But... did you have enough time? It's almost fiftheen minutes from your workplace to the city hall."

"Yeah, but I had the time for it. I finished Dad's car earlier than expected and had to test drive it anyway. So I used it for a little tour of our beautiful Nashville."

Y/N smiled, but then she felt that uneasy feeling in her stomach again. Yes, they lived in Nashville and yes, she knew the city all too well. Still, it felt wrong somehow. The young woman didn't really know why or where this feeling came from, but it wasn't the first time. This had been happening again and again for weeks now. As if the life they were living here wasn't a real life. Something felt so wrong in moments like this, but she just couldn't quite explain what it was. So she kept it to herself.

"You're finished with the car? Will you give it back to your mum?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "I've already talked to her about this and she said, that she does not want to have it back. Besides... she thought that we would be more in need for a big car in the future." he wiggled with his eyebrows.

"Oh, is that so?" now she had to grin back.

"Of course. I'm ready when you are." and with one swift tug he grabbed her thighs and lifted her onto her hips. Y/N squealed in shock, but quickly regained her composure and laughed as Dean went into the bedroom with her in his arms.

The next morning, Y/N decided to prepare a big breakfast. It was Sunday and today they would just keep to themselves, relax at home and not see a soul. So she got to work and soon her house was filled with the smell of fresh coffee, pancakes, eggs and bacon. Y/N set the table, poured out some orange juice and waited for the toast to be ready. Then it wouldn't be long before Dean came downstairs, driven by his growling stomach.

So while Y/N was waiting for Dean, she decided to finally take a closer look at the box with the books. Her heart immediately jumped again. No matter how rough or tough Dean seemed on the outside, on the inside he was soft, caring and just wonderful. It didn't take Y/N long to figure this out and it made her fall in love with him even faster. Luckily, Dean really liked her too.

Among the Jane Austen books were other special editions. A few by Stephen King and also a few fantasy series that she was currently reading. But he had also brought a few new books that she hadn't heard of. One in particular caught Y/N's eye because it didn't seem like a normal novel. It was about the lore of a coven of witches from ancient Tartaria. And the more she leafed through the book, the clearer it became that it wasn't a normal book.

Y/N frowned. Why had Dean brought such a book with him? Did he really believe in witches? That was somehow strange. So she would ask him about it once he woke up and joined her. While she sorted the other books into her bookshelf, she placed the witch book on the kitchen island. But she noticed that her eyes kept returning to the book. Really strange.

But it took another twenty minutes until Dean finally trotted into the kitchen. He looked so cute with messy hair. They greeted each other with a small smile and a big hug before sharing a kiss. But shortly afterwards Dean saw the set table and widened his eyes.

“Did you do all of that this morning?” Dean asked surprised, but he immediately seemed much more awake and prepared to sit down at the table.

"Yes, I did. I just wanted to do it as a little thank you for the books you bought me." she said with a grin and poured coffee for herself and Dean.

"Aaww, you didn't have to do that." Dean replied, but already helped himself to the toast and bacon. "But I won't say no to it either."

"How come I'm not surprised?" laughed Y/N and ruffled Dean's still disheveled hair.

As she brought the coffee pot back, Y/N's eyes fell on the book about witches again and she picked it up before sitting down at the table too.

"But back to the books..." Y/N held up the book and Dean looked over at her. "...why did you bring me this book? It's not a novel."

"Oh, yeah. This is for Sam." Dean replied, biting into his toast.

"Sam?" Y/N asked confused.

"Yes. Sam." Dean repeated, frowning slightly. "My brother. He can certainly do more with it than I can. He's our lore expert."

Now Y/N was beyond confused. What was Dean talking about? She placed the book on the table and turned fully to Dean.

"Dean...you don't have a brother."

"What are you talking about?" Dean looked just as confused now.

"We've been together for over five years now, Dean. You don't have a brother. You've always been an only child."

For a moment, Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but then he shook his head slightly and cleared his throat.

"What? No, I didn't mean...brother brother. I meant a buddy of mine. Of course I'm an only child. What did you think?"

That somehow relieved Y/N, but she still didn't fully believe him. And that strange feeling arose within her again and didn't seem to want to go away. What was going on here?

A week later, Dean and Y/N were back to normal. Everything seemed normal and as usual. While Dean restored classic cars in the auto repair shop and made his customers happy, Y/N continued to work part-time at the bed and breakfast. She loved the work. It had a family feel to it and sometimes didn't feel like work at all. And sometimes, on his break, Dean would come over and have coffee with her before he had to go back.

Dean had met Y/N in the baking section of a supermarket. Y/N immediately noticed him and he also seemed to have noticed her straight away. His flirting attempts didn't take long to arrive and Y/N was only too happy to give in to them. And when they got to the meat section, it was clear that there was a spark. After that, it didn't take long until Dean called her again and they went on their first date.

Soon after, it had become clear that something more was developing between them and Y/N had no regrets. Dean had also often told her that he was happy. Everything was light and somehow he felt like a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Even if he could never quite say what he meant by that.

And Y/N has had to think about that over and over again over the last few days. Dean also seemed somehow preoccupied. The witch book was still in her possession and she often caught him holding it in his hand and looking down at it thoughtfully. She has also had it in her hand several times, as if it were attracting her, making her want to open it and read it carefully.

But she fought against it, tried not to give in to it because it somehow scared her. However, these efforts only resulted in her getting a headache that slowly became quite throbbing. So after finishing work, she decided to lie down on the sofa and get some sleep, hoping it would help.

But even the little nap didn't seem to help. On the contrary, she was haunted by confused dreams about witches. Magic curses that were cast on her and that she couldn't defend against. But what finally broke Y/N out of her sleep was the voice of her best friend Jane, calling out to her and telling her that she had to wake up.

As soon as she opened her eyes, her heart was racing and sweat was forming on her forehead. It took her several seconds until her mind was back in her house and her vision cleared. And immediately the headache came back. And the urge to read the witch book was now even stronger than before.

So she gave in to him. She picked up the book and opened it, reading carefully, page by page. And the more she read, the more the fog in her head cleared. All the more she remembered. When she came across a sleep-trance curse, the scales fell from her eyes.

She didn't immediately notice that Dean was coming home at that moment. But when she turned to him, she saw that he was holding a small, green plastic soldier in his hand. His eyes widened when he realized Y/N was reading the witch book. But somehow it also gave him a feeling of like-mindedness. And even though he didn't want to burst that happy little bubble they were in, they still needed to talk.

But when Dean even thought about talking to Y/N about what had happened to him today, his heart almost broke. He loved her very much and he also loved the life they had built over the last five years. By now they had even gotten to the point where they were thinking about having children together. But one more look at the little toy soldier in his hand made his decision stronger again. There was no other way if he wanted to finally bring light to darkness.

"Hey, Y/N..." he started while keeping a little distance to the woman infront of him. "...I think... we need to talk."

To his surprise Y/N nodded her head. "Yeah, I... think we do."

With the book still in hand she sat back down on the couch again. A couple of seconds later Dean did the same, but she could not speak right away, because he knew that it would change everything. So he took a few deep breaths and started with showiung Y/N the toy soldier in his hand.

"This... was inside the Impala. I found it, when I restored the car. It belongs to me... and my brother Sam. He's four years younger than me and when we were little we stuffed them into the car."

Y/N closed her eyes for a brief moment, hoping this was all a dream. But at the same time she had to laugh inside because from the looks of it, it was all a dream. Even if it felt like a bit of a nightmare right now.

"My name is Dean Winchester and me and my brother hunt monsters, ghosts and witches. So, basically all of the supernatural if you will." He rubbed the back of his head a little nervously and looked at Y/N carefully.

But Y/N wasn’t quite as surprised. A small smile even crept onto her lips. Actually she should have known that they weren't that different.

"I've had such a throbbing headache all week. Ever since we got this book here..." she held it up a bit, but didn't want to let it go. Not yet. "...My best friend Jane would have already devoured it. I was with her in Tonopah. We were tracking a witch who stole the life energy of single people."

Now Dean's eyes widened. So Y/N knew about it herself. She was also a hunter. Why had the idea seemed so far-fetched to him when it made so much sense now that he had heard it himself? And what she said about the witch's hunt also matched his memories.

"Sam and I were in Clarksburg. A witch sucked the life energy out of singles there too."

And suddenly relief, but also sadness and even a little fear spread through both of them. So it was definitely clear that the reality they were living together wasn't real. And they no longer had any doubts about each other's words. It just felt too right.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Y/N asked.

"We followed him for quite a while until we were able to find him in an abandoned house. Unfortunately, I was too forward. You know, I hate these damn witches. Sam called out to me. I wasn't paying attention for a moment and then... I don't know."

Y/N nodded knowingly. "You were hit by a curse. Just like me. Jane had located the witch in a hotel, but she had known we were coming. And as soon as I walked through the door of the room, a purple burst of energy hit me. After that, I don't know anything either."

"Fucking witches." Dean grumbled. "So, a curse. But which one?"

"I think I know the answer to that." And now Y/N opened the book in her hands again and showed that spell to him.

"A sleep-trance curse? What the heck is this?" so he read the whole page and his eyes darkened. "Son of a bitch! And what are we supposed to do about it? I mean, my brother is good with witch stuff, but I'm not sure he will come behind this."

"I already have an answer for that too." She showed Dean a paragraph on the next page. "We can only solve it ourselves. No matter what Jane or Sam try, they won't succeed."

"Well then, we should get to work, shouldn't we?" Dean said after reading the new lines too.

Y/N nodded at that too, but immediately afterwards she also realized what it would mean to lift the curse. They would give up their lives here. She would lose everything she thought she loved. But she also asked herself what about the feelings she had for Dean right now. Were they at least real? Or did they just come from the curse? Would she lose feelings as soon as she woke up? Or would she at least be able to remember it? She didn't know.

Dean also seemed to notice her change in emotions and placed a hand on her thigh. He couldn't deny that he was a little scared too. This life they had here was everything he had always imagined. This was truly what it must have felt like to live a normal life. Without monsters and all the evil that roamed the streets at night. And even though nothing had happened yet, he already missed it.

And he already missed Y/N, even though she was still sitting here next to him. But it would probably take a while before he finally understood how unfair it all was. Showing him a piece of heaven and then ripping it out of his hands. But they had to go back, had to see how Sam and Jane were doing. And they had to kill those fucking witches.

Three days later they had all the ingredients together. Thanks to Dean's recovered memories, he had been able to get many things the usual way. They had both taken time off from work and spent the rest of their time together. The closer they got to the finish line, the more Y/N's heart broke.

She had just divided up all the ingredients and set up the bronze bowl when Dean came to her with white candles in his hand. He lit it and Y/N began mixing the ingredients according to the order. But when she got to the last step, she stopped.

"Y/N?" Dean asked, but he already saw the emotions rise in her eyes.

"What... what will happen when we wake up?" now tears came to her eyes.

"Y/N..." Dean said again and lightly touched her upper arm.

"I don't want to forget you." She now said what she had been caring around with her since the morning.

Dean pulled her into his arms and now had to hold back his own tears. He had been trying not to think about it the whole time, but now he couldn't ignore it anymore. And while he was trying to keep his emotions in check, he didn't notice how Y/N put a small piece of paper in the breast pocket of his shirt. Even if she didn't know if it would do any good, she at least wanted to try.

Then Dean took her by the shoulders and released Y/N from the hug so that he could look her in the eyes.

"Listen to me." and Y/N looked him in the eyes without saying anything. "I will find you. I promise you that."

And that was enough to make Y/N cry. So Dean pulled her back into his arms and shed a few tears himself. After they both calmed down, they separated from each other but still holding each other's hands.

"I love you!" Y/N said in a weak voice and Dean grinned.

"I love you!" He said too and then they turned to the table.

A moment later, Y/N spoke the words of the counterspell and threw the last ingredient into the bowl. They both looked at each other again before a purple wave of energy hit them and everything around them went dark.

"Y/N? Y/N!"

With a groan, Y/N opened her heavy eyelids and immediately recognized the excited voice of her best friend Jane. She felt as if she had slept for a hundred years without ever really resting. She slowly sat up and let Jane hug her warmly.

"Thank God you're finally awake again. That stupid witch put a spell on you! Unfortunately, I killed her too quickly before I knew what the spell was. But it was so strong that I don't think she could do it alone. How are you? How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm doing quite well. It's just that my body still feels so heavy."

"Fortunately." exclaimed Jane and hugged her friend again. "But something is strange." she then reflected.

"What?" Y/N asked.

"How were you able to free yourself from the spell? I was at my wits' end three days ago and haven't tried anything else until now."

Now Y/N was taken aback. "I have no idea. I don't remember anything."

A/N: Yeah, there is nothing else to say here. Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

@lyarr24 @k-slla @chriszgirl92 @aylacavebear @thebiggerbear

#what if #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn #supernatural

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plaidos · 2 days ago

Note

Something mildly interesting happened today. I'm in the car with my mother and for some reason we end up getting onto the topic of transmisogyny and its pervasiveness in USA society and culture. I forget exactly how we got there, but I'm talking about the cultural attitudes of transmisogyny and my mother brings up terfs. I'm like actually yeah you're right, and bring up Bechdel and Michfest and my mother just immediately goes "Oh yeah, I know all about that."

You see, my mother was in her 20s in the late 90s and actually knew people who went and also knew all about the discussions going on around their exclusionary policies during that time. And she's just like "Oh yeah no I get it Bechdel is 100% a terf" and like. I love my mother but she's a little out of the loop on queer issues, being 50 and her disabilities keeping her from getting out much, leaving her with a somewhat spotty education on current queer topics.

These people being like "oh but Bechdel can't be a terf" have less transfeminist politics than my mother, who doesn't even know a whole lot about transfeminism.

it’s literally that easy. people have constructed white cis butch lesbians from the 90s as this totally morally untouchable group, and in reverse, have constructed their idea of terfs to exclusively be the rabid crazy open nazis like Posie Parker…

it might sound wild to a lot of people now, but folks like Alison Bechdel are the original people the word “terf” was meant to refer to — it was literally coined to describe the people who attended Michfest specifically, how more straightforward does it get than that? — but the overton window has shifted to be so much more violently & aggressively transphobic that she seems like a trans activist in comparison to say, JK Rowling, because she has had the decency to be polite about trans people once or twice.

People don’t seem to understand that the general public is actually much more transphobic than they were fifty years ago; it was generally accepted that reassignment surgery would fundamentally make somebody their “desired gender” even if it was looked down upon, and the radical feminists Bechdel looked up to & took her politics from (like notorious OG terfs Adrienne Rich & Mary Daly) redefined womanhood as specifically people assigned female at birth, and she kept totally in line with those beliefs for decades even whilst she paid lip service about how trans people deserve to be treated nicer. even her so-called pro trans bathroom comic has the undercurrent of the very present terf belief that trans women are reinforcing sexism by presenting traditionally feminine, and that we are treated nicer by straight women for it — like that is fundamentally the punchline of her trans bathroom comic!

but as long as she’s still bragging about how awesome Michfest is in her books, i’m going to call her a terf, because that’s what the word means, so she still is one. i’ll stop when she apologises for being a spineless bigot for decades.

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holyguardian · 3 days ago

Text

Somnus looked beyond stressed. Little wonder, when she brought up the topic of his kingdom's greatest problem. She felt a pang of guilt for it... moments ago, he scoffed laughter, seemed amused, distracted from his own worries.

But it felt like a conversation that needed to happen. It wouldn't be right to pretend they were blind to these troubles, especially now, when Roran was scarred by the events of the morning.

Her lips pursed a little as he expressed his wishes. That was all too late now, of course. Though he added more detail. Something that made her furrow her brow in thought. Was this the divide between the brothers? There had been something, and he couldn't possibly explain all of this in their first meetings.

"Does he... think he can heal the world?" she cautiously asked, toeing a very fine line. It was a hot topic. One that she handled delicately.

Aerith blinked at his own questioning. Suddenly the topic shifted and she was the one who felt uncomfortable, placed on the spot, her body language tense in her moment of reaction.

But then she sighed a breath and tried her best to give him answers. It was the least she could do, when he had already been vulnerable with her. "Jenova is her name, but you may have heard about the 'calamity from the skies' before. That isn't a false tale. Many people believe it is Cetran superstition about the astrals, that our people were angered or upset that other beings challenged the might of our Planet. But Jenova isn't a name among the astrals, and when we talk about a calamity it isn't because of the six. She... cloaks herself with the faces of people you love and trust, and sows chaos to spread her influence. She spread war, she spread a sickness, and she controlled the minds of others. My ancestors could not kill her, she was too strong. Instead she was imprisoned at a great cost."

Her hand fidgeted, toying at some of the material of her dress. "We have never seen what Jenova's sickness looked like. All we have to go by are words passed down to us. I could never imagine it. But when I saw those daemons today, it felt like I was witnessing what my ancestors described. People that were no longer people, who took on monstrous appearances."

Finally she shook her head. "I haven't been able to talk to my mother more about it, not yet. She gave a brief reassurance that Jenova was very much contained but... she didn't see it. She didn't see a daemon. And I sound... like a crazy girl."

Aerith might not have realized it there, but she was the spitting image of her mother. Not just in appearance, but in behaviour, too. In the way she gave advice. She was full of the same empathy. Only where the Queen held grace and eloquence in abundance… her daughter held mischief and teasing.

But Somnus found it quite easy to imagine Aerith one day carrying the crown the same way her mother did.

What she suggested to him was something he would have never dared to come up with. Fleeing his new home and betrothed for a whole season or more!

It made him scoff at her outright admitting to such. But in an amused way. She truly was no one who would have just sat by and folded her hands if she had been unhappy in an arranged marriage. That took bravery.

Though of course it all wasn’t that easy. Not at all.

Sighing, Somnus rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair.

“The Starscourge and Daemons… I hoped I could tell you about all that in a quiet and calm moment. Really explain it. But now… you saw it firsthand. It is harsh to deal with. And that also is the point of contempt between my brother and I. We have… very different ideas about how to handle this. It’s like I almost don’t recognize him anymore. He is a fool….”

There was no way he could travel from one infected to the next and heal all in time. In addition to something feeling… off about Ardyn the more he went away.

Blinking, Somnus remembered what he had heard back at the cave, though.

“You said something about it being like… Jenova’s curse? Something like this? Who is that?”

#somnus-lucis-caelum #verse; star crossed

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morgana-larkin · 20 hours ago

Note

Hii! I just want to say, I really enjoy your style of writing!!

And also perhaps request :)

I’ve been thinking about the Party ep from S3. Maybe reader attends with Melissa, and ends up having to take care of a drunk Mel, could be fluffy or smutty whichever hehe.

I am thinking though established relationship, either wife or girlfriend :))

Hopefully you like this concept and can put your own twist on it!

Thank you 🥰

Hello! I can’t believe I’ve gotten 3 prompts for this specific episode and I love all the different ideas! Here’s your request! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

My Lovely Fiancé

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, breast kink, strap on

Words: 3.2k

“So tonight, I’m your protector? Making sure you don’t do anything stupid while drunk.” You ask her while you sit on her desk and she nods.

“You know I can do crazy things when I’m drunk.”

“Like propose to me?” You ask and she smiles.

“That was only stupid because I wanted to ask you the right way.”

“And you did, and now we're getting married next summer.”

“Who knew that my miracle would be a woman.” Melissa tells you and you wrap your arms around her. She gets in between your legs and kisses you.

“And who knew that Melissa Schemmenti would be soft when in love.”

“Zip it you.” She says and then kisses you again.

“Lovebirds, I’m closing the school in 15 minutes.” Mr Johnson says and you pull away from each other.

“We should go, we gotta get ready.” You tell her and you both walk out of the school and to Melissa’s car.

You both get home and change into your outfits for Janine’s party.

“Barb wants to get there an hour early as we know Janine will need help.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

“Well you can go early but I’ll be there a little late.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you.

“And why are you going to be late?”

“I have to go pick up my outfit from the tailor, remember? It’s been ready for 2 days but I haven’t been able to pick it up yet.”

“Ok, I have to go, Barb is almost here to pick me up.” She says after checking her phone. “She was going to drive us but I guess I’ll meet you there.” She says and gives you a kiss.

“I’ll see you there, I love you.” You tell her.

“I love you too.” She says and then you both go downstairs. You head to you and Melissa’s car just as Barb pulls up.

“Aren’t you coming to the party dear?” Barb asks as Melissa walks to the car.

“I gotta go get my outfit from the tailors but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You tell her. “Keep an eye on my wild fiance until I get there.” You tell her and she nods.

“You know I can hear you.” Melissa complains and you smile.

“I know.” You say and then get in the car and drive to get your outfit.

You pull up to the party about 30 minutes late and knock on the door to see Mr. Johnson blocking it.

“Mr. Johnson let me in.” You tell him.

“Do I know you?” He asks.

“Do you want me to punch you in the face? Melissa taught me how to do it properly.” You tell him and then he moves out of the way. “Thank you.” You walk in as the party looks to be in full swing and you look around for Melissa or even Barb. You run into Janine who looks to be stressed out. “Hey Janine.”

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Something wrong?”

“Everything is wrong, nothing is going right.” She says and you look at her confused.

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone to whatever crisis is happening with you, do you know where Melissa is?” You ask her.

“She’s in the middle of the dance floor with Barb.” She tells you and you nod.

“Thanks, your party looks great.” You tell her and then walk to the dancefloor. You see Melissa and Barb dancing and you go to walk up to them. “Melissa!” You yell over the music and she turns to look at you.

“Heeeyyy! You made it!” She slurs out and gives you a dramatic hug.

“Holy crap, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, just happy that you’re here.” She says happily and you smile at her.

“You’re clearly drunk…and apparently so is Barb.” You add as you look to see Barb dancing without shoes on.

“Dance with me, my lovely wife.” She says and grabs both your hands. “I can’t wait to permanently make you my lovely wife. Let’s get married right now!” She says and you widen your eyes.

“No, I’m not marrying you when you’re drunk.” You tell her and she pouts.

“I’m not drunk on alcohol though, I’m drunk in love with you.” She says very close to your face and you smell the alcohol on her breath.

“How about I get us both drinks?” You offer and walk to the kitchen.

“I’m too sober for this.” You say and roll your eyes. “Here Melissa, your favourite beer.” You tell her and hand it to her.

“I have the best fiance in the world!” She shouts out and takes a sip.

You and Melissa start dancing with each other and you keep having to stabilise her as her coordination isn’t the best when drunk. Then the lights go out and the music stops playing and you hear a lot of ‘boos’ from everyone.

“Y/n?” You hear Melissa ask and you turn on your phone flashlight.

“I’m right here Mel.” You say with a smile and she giggles.

“It’s like we’re in an eclipse.” She whispers and you laugh.

“Ya it does.” You tell her and you mess up her hair a bit and she gives you a glare. She then leans forward and captures your lips with hers. Melissa puts her hands in your hair while you wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah! I’m blinded by the light!” You hear Barb say and pull away. You quickly realise your phone flashlight was pointed right at her eyes.

“Sorry Barb.” You tell her.

The lights suddenly come back on and the dj gets the music ready and they start the music again.

“Come on Y/n, let’s dance!” She says and starts dancing. She then suddenly pulls you in closer to her and takes control of the dance. She spins you around so your back is pressed up against her front and she wraps her arms around your waist. She then leans in close to your ear so only you can hear her. “With you pressed up against me like this, I just want to pound into you with the strap until you can’t walk.” She says and you lose your balance for a second and Melissa notices. “I think you want that too.” She adds.

“Melissa, you’re drunk and not thinking straight.” You tell her.

“Thinking straight is for straight people.” She tells you and you giggle.

“That’s true, and we’re not straight.” You say with a smile.

She’s about to reply back but then you see Janine start to dance and people backing up to form a circle.

“GO JANINE! GO JANINE!” People chant and you and Melissa join in.

An hour later, everyone starts leaving and Barb calls Gerald to come pick her up. You and Melissa wait until Barb is picked up and then you lead Melissa to the car to drive you both home.

“You know I had a lot of fun tonight!” She says quite loudly and you giggle.

“And you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.” You tell her and she laughs.

“You know I haven’t forgotten about wanting to pound into you until you can’t walk.” She says and you glance at her quickly before turning your attention back to the road.

“Play on your phone.” You tell her and she does take her phone out.

You get back home and you help Melissa as she stumbles back into the house.

“Let’s get you upstairs and to bed.” You tell her and she hums.

“Want me already?” She asks and she gets closer to your ear.

“We need to get you upstairs before you pass out.” You tell her and she scoffs.

“Schemmenti’s don’t pass out because of a bit of alcohol.” She slurs out and you shake your head at her.

“You didn’t have a bit of alcohol though, you had a lot.” You tell her as you make it to the bedroom. You drop her onto the bed and then you take her blazer and shirt off.

“Seems like you want me since you’re undressing me.” She says and then you take her bra off and put a pj shirt on her. “What the fuck? What’s with the shirt?” She complains as she tries to take it off. You then push her gently and she falls back on the bed. You then take her shoes, leather pants and underwear off. You try and put some shorts on her but she moves her legs, making it harder so you decide to just ditch the shorts.

You tuck her in and then you go and get ready for bed yourself. Once you come back out of the bathroom, you see her already asleep and you roll your eyes and then climb into bed. Once you get in, she unconsciously moves closer to you and you wrap an arm around her before you fall asleep.

Melissa wakes up first as the sun is in her eyes and she whines. “Y/n?” She calls out and you wake up but don’t open your eyes. “Y/n where are you?” She calls out again.

“I’m right behind you genius, my arm is around you.” You tell her and she grabs hold of your hand. She then gets a notification on her phone and she grabs it to see a calendar note.

“Y/n?” She starts.

“Ya?”

“Why is there a reminder on my phone that says pound into Y/n with strap?” She asks you and you open your eyes and look at her phone.

“When the hell did you… you must have put that in there in the car when I kept denying your advances.” You tell her and you laugh.

“You were able to deny me?” She asks and you nod. “And how hard was I trying?”

“Honestly? Not as hard as I thought you would.” You tell her and she turns around to face you.

“Why don’t I have shorts on?” She asks and you chuckle.

“You kept kicking your legs when I tried to put them on so I gave up.” You tell her.

“And why do you have shorts on?” She asks and you look at her.

“Because I didn’t get plastered last night. I had one drink when I got there and nothing else.” You say and she hums.

“I think you should take the shorts off.” She says with a deeper voice and you look at her eyes and see how dark they are, her normal green is now gone.

“And why’s that?” You ask with a smile.

“Because you’re on my to do list today.” She says and she takes her shirt off. Melissa knew that you can’t deny it when she’s fully naked, or if she’s topless, as her boobs are too perfect for you to say no to.

“You're using my weakness against me.” You tell her and move closer to her and she winks at you. She leans forward and kisses you and doesn’t pull away until you moan. You start to move down to suck on her nipples but she stops you and you look at her.

“You can’t touch them unless you take your clothes off.” She tells you and you quickly take your pj shirt and shorts off. “That’s better. As cute as you are with my shirt and your little shorts on, I much prefer you without anything on.” She says and she tilts your chin and places a kiss on your lips. “Now be a good girl and suck my tits really well.” She says and you happily move your body down and put a nipple in your mouth.

You start sucking and swirling your tongue all over and she’s spewing out moans and gasps. It doesn’t take long until you move your hand down and start circling your clit, turned on by the noises she’s making and sucking on her tit. It isn’t until you’re sucking on the other one that she notices you touching yourself. She pushes you off of her nipple and grabs the hand that you’re touching yourself with, and you let out a whine.

“I think you’re being bad, touching yourself without my permission.” She tells you and you look up at her. “Without mommy’s permission.” She adds and you try to suck on her nipples again but she stops you.

“I’m sorry mommy, let me please you.” You plead and she smiles.

“I know how you’re going to do that.” She tells you and then she goes into the nightstand and pulls out the strap and the dildo. “I’m going to put this on with some lube, and then you’re going to ride it.” She tells you and you nod.

You watch as she puts the strap on and then puts the dildo on it, she grabs the lube and puts a good amount on it. She lays down on her back and instructs you to start riding it. You get up and straddle her lap, you go up a bit and she aligns the dildo with your entrance. You slowly sink down on it, feel as it slowly fills you up, stretching you out. It isn’t until you’re halfway down that you realise that she grabbed the biggest one and it’s filling you up nicely, stretching you out a good amount, especially since you haven’t used the biggest one in 2 months.

“It’s big.” You whine out and she grabs your hips, helping you slide down all the way.

“I know, I want to watch as your pussy just swallows up the entire thing, like the little whore that you are.” She says and that just makes you wetter. You take the whole thing as she bottoms out and then you take a second before you start moving your hips. “That’s it, keep going until you come all over it.” She says and you whimper before you move faster. “If you come like a good girl then I’ll reward you by pounding it into you.” She says. “The way I know you like.” She adds and you suck in a breath at imagining that.

Melissa made sure to position the dildo exactly where it will rub against her clit, knowing how you’ll ride it as she’s gotten you to do it before. She decides to tease you more. She brings a hand down to her pussy, under the strap, and she covers two fingers in her wetness. She then brings them close to you and instructs you to suck on them. You put them in your mouth and you immediately taste her in your mouth, making you move faster and getting you to want to come even faster than before. Melissa watches as you suck her fingers and feels them in your mouth and how your tongue is licking them clean. She really should have thought that through as it’s teasing her more than you. She decides to fuck it and grabs your hips, she pulls you off the strap and you’re looking at her confused.

“Don’t give me that look, you look and feel so good, I can’t wait any longer.” She tells you and she gets you on your hands and knees before she slams the dildo in your entrance and you gasp out. She doesn’t start off slow, she starts pounding into you and you start gasping and moaning right away and that makes her smile. “You like that baby, don’t you? When I’m a bit rough with you, isn’t that right?” She asks you and you whimper. “Use words my love.”

“Yes Melissa, I like it when you’re rough with me.” You tell her and she stops and bends down to your ear.

“When I’m making you feel good, I’m not Melissa, remember baby?”

“Mommy.” You say and she smiles before she sits back up and continues slamming the dildo into you. She watches as you just take the dildo, all of it, all at once and she moans out.

“I just love watching you take all of me, all I give you.” She tells you and she stumbles a little as her orgasm is building. “Oh god baby, do you feel it building, your orgasm?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes mommy, I’m getting close.” You tell her and she grabs your hips to stabilise herself.

“That’s good baby, mommy is getting close as well.” She tells you and you can tell as she’s getting messy, stumbling a bit.

“Make me come mommy.” You whimper out and she moans out.

“Oh god, I love it when you beg.” She says and she sees your legs start to shake. She can hear your breathing get heavier and she has to move harder so she knows you’re clenching around the dildo. “Come baby, let me hear you.” She says and you take a few breaths before you come with a moan. Melissa comes a few seconds after and she holds onto you for stability. She gently pulls out of you but it still has you whimper as it’s big and you’re still coming down from your high. “I know baby, shh.” She says and then she’s out of you fully and she takes it off. “Come here.” She says as she lays down and you join here, and she wraps you protectively in her arms.

“You sure got over your hangover quickly.” You say after a few seconds and she laughs.

“Well my lovely fiancé needed me to make her feel good. I still have a headache though.” She tells you and you look up at her.

“You know you said something last night.” You say and she hums.

“I bet I said a lot of things last night. What stupid thing did I say now?” She asks.

“It wasn’t stupid actually, it was nice.” You say and she looks at you. “You called me your lovely wife and said we should get married right now.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well I do think about just going to city hall and getting married but this is your first wedding and if you want a wedding then you’ll have a wedding.” She tells you and you kiss her.

“Really?” You ask and she nods.

“I asked you to marry me a month ago because I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy and seeing that smile of yours.” She tells you and you can’t help but smile at her words. “That’s the smile I’m talking about.” She says and boops your nose.

“I know next year we’re getting married but if you want to start calling me your wife then you can.” You tell her.

“Really?”

“Ya, I mean you’re going to be calling me that for the rest of our lives, why not start now?” You tell her and her smile grows.

“Ok, my lovely wife.” She tells you and gives you a kiss.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

@dashbag-art

@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

@that-october-night

@schemmentigfs

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #law #abbott elementary

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samanthacastano02 · 2 days ago

Text

Seungmin - Christmas Love (18+)

Seungmin x FemReader

Warnings: Smut, PnV, Unprotected sex (Don’t do(Use protection)), Breeding Kink, Oral (fem rec), Making love, Fingering, talks of pregnancy, reader is pregnant in epilogue (epilogue isn't important to the story so you don't have to read it, you wont miss anything important, just some banter between all the members), Cursing, probably more, MDNI 18+

Photos not mine, credits go to the photographers

Word Count: 4845

Summary: Seungmin comes home from doing his Chanel photoshoot, his outfit turns you on to no end. You decide to take things to the bedroom, having fun with each other. Things take a romantic turn and you and Seungmin forgo the condom. (I have no idea to write a summary for this)

Minors Do Not Interact

It was late but I knew that Seungmin would be home soon from his Chanel photoshoot. He had said that I could go with him but my week had been busy and I wanted to stay home and relax for a little while. I knew that he was slightly disappointed but would never hold that against me, and there was always next time. I was lounging on the couch watching a random k-drama when he walked through the front door, slipping off the nice dress shoes he had on and slipping on his house slippers. When he walked into the living room he stopped in shock when he saw that I was still awake, I was so engrossed into the show that I hadn’t even heard him come home.

“Love what are you still doing awake?”

“Jesus Seungminnie, you scared me, warn a girl.”

“Sorry love. Must be a good show if you’re that into it.” he said as he walked over to the couch, lifting me up gently while sitting down, cuddling me into him. He may seem off standish with his band members but this man hates to not have some type of skinship with me.

“It’s very good, how was the shoot? I love the outfit that they have you in.”

“It was good, I knew that you would love it.” he said while kissing my forehead.

“Stay’s going to go crazy when they see it, you know that right?” “Oh, I know that. The stylist and I were joking about that while we were leaving. Did I tell you that her boyfriend finally proposed?” “Finally?! After what, seven years?”

“Yep, she said that she was going to send us a wedding invite whenever they get the wedding date set.”

“I’m excited and happy for her. She deserves to have the best day ever, she's been a godsend for dealing with your dumbass for the last four years.”

“My wife must hate me.” he feigned dramatically

“Minnie, you are so dramatic.” I kissed his cheek, he feigned being upset by shoving his face into my neck.

“Why must you hate me?”

“You’re a dork.” ‘But I’m your dork.” he kissed my neck repeatedly.

“Minnie stop that tickles.” “Never, I'm gonna do it even more now.” he continues to kiss my neck, I try to wiggle out of his arms to escape but in the process he tightens his arms around me.

“Minnie.” I sigh on accident when he kisses my sweet spot.

“You're a tease, wiggling.”

“You’re the one who was kissing me, I was just trying to escape.” I try to defend myself as he slowly continues kissing my neck, no longer in a teasing manner. I tilt my head back, giving him better access.

“Mhm, sure.” he begins to kiss my neck to my jaw. Slowly my body was getting more and more heated.

“Seungmin please.”

“Please what, my love.” “I want more.” “More what?”

“You're going to make me say it aren’t you.”

“Always.” “I want you. Can we please move this to the bedroom?” I whine into his chest, trying to hide my face from him.

“Of course my love.” He grabs my chin gently, tilting my head up towards him. He kisses my lips softly. Before I can even respond he’s standing up with me in his arms and walking us towards our bedroom. I lean my head on his shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin as his shirt moves.

When we enter the bedroom he gently lays me on the bed, he stares down at me with so much love and compassion that it brings tears to my eyes because I know that this man would do anything for me and I would do anything for him. He gently crawls onto the bed over top of me, looking at me deep in the eyes.

“You are so beautiful Jagi.”

“Minnie, I love you.” I blush brightly at his words.

“I love you, beautiful. Can I take this off?” He tugs at my sweatshirt, that happened to actually be his, that I had been wearing.

“Yes, please.” I respond quickly, he soon wastes no time in dragging the sweatshirt over my head and throwing it somewhere across the room, knowing that we’ll find it in the morning.

“God I can never get enough of your body, do you see what you do to me?” he asks me, he pushes his hips into me to prove his point even more. I grab onto the sides of his shirt, hinting that I want it off. With quick work he drags it over his head, leaving him in his black dress pants and me in my sweats.

“If stays were in my position, they’d lose their ever loving mind. I don’t think they’d be able to handle how hot you are.” I say while tugging on the necklaces that he still had on, wanting to kiss him. He was blushing fiercely, hiding his face in my neck again, leaving open mouthed kisses.

“No one but you gets to see me this way, this is a privilege only meant for you my love.” he begins leaving kisses down my body. Starting at my cheek and working his way down to my neck and ending at my sweatpants right above my pantie line.

“My love, can I take these off?” he gently tugged at the hem of my sweats.

“Yes, please baby please.”

With quick work he tugged them off, quickly throwing them behind him. They disappeared so quickly that I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Seungmin looked up at me while I was laughing, he didn’t know what I was laughing at but he started laughing with me.

“My love, what are we laughing at?”

“Just at how eager you were to take off my pants.”

“I mean can you blame me, you have on my favorite pair of your panites. Your lacie black pair, it’s like you wanted me to ruin you tonight.” “I mean maybe I wanted to get lucky tonight, but not necessarily ruined.”

“Love, you know that any time you wear these, you're getting ruined.” I look at him, laugh and roll my eyes at him. He just smirks at me and begins to leave kisses up the sides of my thighs.

“You know, it’s not fair that I’m pantsless while you still have pants on.”

“If you wanted me to take my pants off all you had to do was ask.” He smirked at me while standing up to take off his dress pants. When he slid them off, his arousal became much more prominent.

“Shut up and come here.” I make grabby hands at him, he just chuckles at me and climbs back over me, nudging my legs apart so that he can slot his hips between them. He gently rests his hips at the apex of my thighs, allowing me to actually feel just how turned on he is.

He leans down and begins to kiss me, wrapping his arms around me. I feel him unclip my bra with one hand, so I arch my back so that he can remove it which leaves me only in my panties. As we continue to kiss he begins to grind himself into me, causing both of us to moan out in pleasure.

“Seungmin please, I want more.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you.” “You gotta be specific, love.”

“Anything, just please do something.” he seems to get an idea, as he begins to kiss down to my panties. Soon he reaches my panty line but skips over them and begins kissing my thighs, starting at my knee and kissing up until he's almost at where I want him before stopping and then he switches over to the other leg, kissing up that leg until he stops just shy of where I want him.

“What do you want my love?”

“I want your mouth, please.” “Can I take these off?” he tugs at my panties.

“Yes, god please.”

I think he’s gonna take them off with his hands but he shocks me by biting the top of them with his teeth and dragging them down before finally pulling them off and spreading me wide for him. He looks at me like I’m his next meal and I begin to shake with excitement because I know what’s to come. He throws my panties across the room to where the rest of our clothes are and then looks up at me for permission, I give him a quick nod. That’s all he needs before he dives in, his mouth immediately attaches to my clit. He sucks it into his mouth, licking at it and prodding at my entrance before moving back to my clit. He eats me out like it’s his last meal, he knows all of the right places and it feels so good that I can’t keep quiet even if I tried, not that I want to. I soon feel fingers prodding at my entrance, before they push into me. He angles his fingers just right that it’s hitting my sweet spot, making me see stars. I moan loudly at the pleasure that he’s bringing me, he never gives me his cock before making me finish on his fingers and tongue, both he and I don’t enjoy quickies so we don’t do anything unless we have time for it. That doesn’t mean that we don’t tease each other though. Soon I hear him moaning along with me and I muster up enough strength to look down at him between my legs and see that he is grinding himself down on the bed while eating me out, I moan out loudly at that. He has always gotten off on bringing pleasure, he always said that my pleasure was his pleasure. He could always finish just by making me finish. He repeatedly hit my sweet spot and soon I could feel the pressure in my stomach building to its peak, I knew that I was close.

“Oh god Seugnmin. I’m close, please don’t stop.” at that he seemed to suck harder but kept his fingers going at the same pace. There was a new feeling and I felt like I had to pee, I tried to push his head away but he wouldn’t budge.

“Seungmin!” I moan his name loudly as I finish, squirting all over his mouth and chin. He pulls away from me with a lazy smile.

“Minnie, I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, why are you sorry?” “I don’t know what my body just did.”

“Baby, you just squirted.”

“What!”

“It’s ok, it was hot as fuck.” I didn’t have a response for him, so I just leaned up, kissing him on the lips. Tasting myself as he deepened the kiss, pushing me back so that I was laying down again. He came to hover over me again, he looked like a god over me.

“Do you want to continue?” “Yes, please.”

With my response he got off of the bed and took off his underwear, his cock sprang free and smacked his lower stomach. No matter how many times we have sex, I always get excited by how big he is. He’s big and he knew how to use it, and he had the stamina of a dancer and could go for hours if he wanted to. He began to walk over to the nightstand, reaching for the box of condoms that we kept there but I grabbed his wrist before he could pull the drawer open.

“Love?” “What if we maybe didn’t use a condom tonight?” “But you aren’t on any form of birth control?” He asked, confused.

“I know, I was sort of thinking. We’ve been married for two years, it might be nice to have a little you or me.” “Are you saying what I think your saying?” “I want to start trying for a family Seungmin.” I say hopeful. “Really?” “Yes, I know it’s a big decision. I know we haven’t talked about it much, it’s ok if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Forget I mentioned anything.” I panicked, reaching for the drawer with the condoms and began to pull one out but he grabbed my wrist stopping me.

“My love, if you are sure, I would love nothing more than to have a family with you.” he looked into my eyes to see if there was any doubt, but he didn’t find any.

“I’m sure Seungmin, I want this with you. I know that you are still touring but Chan has offered time and time again for me to join you guys and the guys would probably be over the moon to have me on tour, and when the baby got here they’d be the best uncles.” “”If you’re sure, then so am I.” He got onto the bed, kissing me sweetly.

“I’m sure Seungmin.”

With that he slowly positioned his cock head at my entrance, he locked eyes with me as he pushed himself into me. The stretch of him shocked me everytime, he still went slow, going inch by inch until his hips were flush with mine. He dropped down to his elbows, sliding his hands under my head but keeping his arms out to support himself, it was soon obvious that this wasn’t going to be fast and rough like our usually fucking. It was going to be sweet and slow, not fucking but love making. He was looking into my eyes with so much love that it took my breath away.

“God, y/n I love you so much.”

“I love you Seungmin. You can move.” With that he slowly began to pull out, pulling out until only the tip of him was left, before he slowly thrust back into me. He thrust hard enough that it felt good but not hard enough that it would be considered hard fucking

“You feel so good, so tight.” “You're so deep.”

“You take me so we.” He pressed down on my stomach, intensifying the pleasure for both of us. At the same time we both moaned when he thrust into me.

“Seungmin!” I moan out loudly. He picks up the pace a little, but not by much enough that the bed is rocking into the wall.

He continues to thrust into me, focusing on making me finish before he finishes. He sucks love bites into the side of my neck and top of my chest. The pleasure was so intense that I could barely keep my eyes open but I wanted to see everything that he was doing to me, but soon it became too much and my head fell back.

“You are so beautiful like this y/n, you’ll look so beautiful with my baby.”

“Seungminnie you can’t talk like that.”

“Why, you gonna finish too fast?” He snaps his hips hard into me, teasingly.

“Minnie.” I moan into his ear. “I’m going to pump you so full of cum it’ll have no choice but to stick.”

“Please! Please Minnie, I want it.”

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl, wanna be my baby mama?”

“Yes! I’ll be so good for you.” “I know you will baby, I want to go slow but I’m so close. Are you close, baby?”

“I’m so close, please Seungmin.” I beg him, wanting him to finish.

“Can I go hard, just for the last bit?” “Please baby!”

With my permission he snaps his hips even harder into me, picking up the pace even more. He is thrusting so hard into me now that my body is being forced up the bed, not that either of us care at this point in time. We are both so close that the only thing that either of us can care about is reaching that finish line together. I want to reach it with him, so I reach my hand between our bodies and begin to rub my clit, bringing myself closer to finishing. My body begins to shake and that's my tell tale sign that I’m close so I remove my hand and grab both of Sungmin's, which he pins above my head. He thrusts hard into me, rapid and frantic, but oh so good. It takes three more thrusts before we finish together, with a cry of each other's names. As he comes down from his high, he stays inside of me but flips me so that I am laying on top of him, he is worried that I might enter subdrop, he scoots us over to the side of the bed and reaches for the glass of water I randomly had there left over from last night. He sits me up and has me slowly drink from it, before slowly pulling out of me. After seeing that i’m not going to enter a sub drop he lays me down on the bed and walks into the bathroom, as my eyes sleepily close I can hear the bath water running.

When I next wake up, I’m cuddled in Seungmins arms in bed while he’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone. I must have fallen asleep and he must have bathed me and gotten me into a new set of pajamas before changing himself. When he notices that I’m awake he puts his phone down and smiles at me, giggling to himself.

“Going raw for the first time must have done a number on you baby.” “Why do you say that?”

“You fell asleep before I could even get you into the bath.” He chuckled quietly.

“I mean, it was a new feeling. Which felt amazing by the way.” “It did, I don’t know how we’ve gone this long without trying it.” “Me either, but we don’t have to worry about going back to condoms for a while, right?” I ask him, hopeful.

“If you were serious about wanting a baby, then so was I. I want what you want, baby.” “I want a baby with you Seungmin. I think you would make such a great father.” “And I think that you would make such a great mother.” With that he tugs me down under the covers more, and I can feel myself get tired again. We both drift off into dreamland holding each other and dreaming of the future.

Epilogue

It’s been two months of trying and after last month's negative test, it was hard to want to keep trying, the excitement of it all was now scary. What if you couldn’t get pregnant, what if there was something wrong with me. Seungmin sat on the couch with Me while you cried and voiced my worries, but he kept reassuring me that you would keep trying until it happened, and if it didn’t happen, then we could always talk about other options.

I was hopeful but I didn’t want to be because I had been feeling sick and my period was a week late. I hadn’t mentioned anything to Seungmin yet because I knew that he was preparing for a comeback and I didn’t want him to also worry about me even if he said that was his job as my husband. I knew that with my period being a week late I needed to take a test but I wanted to wait until he was home. As soon as he walked in the door, I mentioned it to him.

“Minnie, I think I need to take another test.” I said to Seungmin once he got settled in from coming home from the studio for the day.

“Why do you say that, my love?”

“My period is a week late.”

“It is?” He asks me with a hopeful gleam in his eye.

“Yes. I wanted to wait until you were home though, to take the test.”

“Well, I’m here now my love.” he kissed my head.

“I’ll go take it.” I said nervously

I walked past him into our bedroom, ready to take the test, having to use the restroom for the better half of the day but not wanting to take the test without him and scared that if I went I wouldn’t be able to go again when he got home even though logically I would be able to. I quickly peed into a cup, wanting to be able to take more than one test. I know the web said it’s better to wait until the morning to take the test but I couldn’t wait that long, nerves and excitement were getting the better of me. After I dipped the plethora of tests into the cup, I dumped the rest out and washed my hands, before calling Seungmin into the bathroom. I didn’t want to wait for the results alone. He heard me call him and rushed into the bathroom, he obviously didn’t quite know how pregnancy tests worked.

“Do you have the results?” He asked me excitedly.

“Not yet baby, I just didn’t want to wait alone, I’m nervous.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Ah, it’s ok my love. Whatever the results are, we will get through it, ok?” He wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing my head. He led me over to the side of the bathtub, sitting on the edge before pulling me onto his lap. He knew that I had set a timer already.

“I know, I just want this so badly.” “I know, so do I. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.” “I know, I just hope that it’s meant to happen now.”

“I do too, my love.”

“I love you Seungmin.” “And I love you y/n.” he kissed me gently.

As we wait for the timer to go off we sit together in silence and hold each other. The silence isn’t awkward, it’s peaceful and comforting because we both know that no matter what happens we will both be there for each other. Before we both knew it the five minutes were up, the box said three but I set the timer for five to give Seungmin and I an extra two minutes to prepare ourselves for whatever the outcome may be. Seungmin gently taps my bottom to signal me to stand up so that he can check the test for me, knowing that I’m too nervous to do it, I quickly stand up and walk with him over to the counter where the tests are. He stops in front of them, turning towards me, hugging me tightly before grabbing one of the tests. He looks at me for confirmation to see if I’m ready or not, when he sees that I nod at him he flips the test over.

I watch his face for any reaction, I see his eyes tear up, I can’t tell if they are happy tears or if they are sad tears. I take a step towards him before lifting a shaky hand towards him. He turns the test towards me, and when I look at it, I can clearly see it say, pregnant. I immediately burst into tears, wrapping my arms around Seungmin. He drops the test and wraps both of his arms around me, crying into my neck, while also kissing my neck.

“I can’t believe it baby, we’re gonna be parent’s.” I say excitedly to him. “I can’t either, this is the best news ever.” he kisses my face repeatedly

Later that night:

Seungmin and I lay in bed, his hand laying on my stomach, drawing lazy circles. I’m in and out of sleep drained from the emotional excitement of the day, but I would take this excitement over the heartache of not being pregnant any day. Seungmin taps me awake when he notices that I’m drifting off, I look up at him sleepily, wondering why he won't let me sleep.

“What’s up baby?”

“I want you to come with me to practice tomorrow.” “Why?”

“I want you to be there with me when I tell the boys.” “Shouldn't we wait to tell them?” “You know that I can’t keep a secret from them.” “You're right. You really can’t.” I sigh

“It would only be the boys.” “Only the boys? No one else?”

“Only the boys.” “Ok, I’ll go with you tomorrow then.” “Perfect. Sleep now my love.”

The next morning:

Seungmin tried to let me sleep for as long as possible before waking me to come with him to go to practice. I knew that once we told the boys I could either crash on the couch in the practice room like old times or their driver would take me home. He didn’t tell the boys that I would be joining him today, so they were pleasantly surprised when both Seungmin and I walked into the practice room hand in hand.

“Hey pup, y/n.” Chan said as he looked up from where he was stretching on the floor. Felix and Hyunjin stopped messing around across the room and made their way over, Han and Lee Know got up from the couch, standing nearby now. Changbin and I.N. came into the room behind us, Changbin rustled SeungMin's hair but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed.

“What are you doing here y/nnie?” I.n asked, giving me a hug.

“There’s something that Seungmin wanted to tell you guys, but he wanted me here for it.”

“What’s that?” Felix asked, curious now.

“You aren’t leaving the group are you?” Lee Know asked nervously.

“Yah, don’t ask that. We don’t need that negative energy.” Chan jumped up quickly, smacking Lee Know upside the head.

“God no, why would you ever even ask that. I would only ever leave this group in a body bag or the military service. Sorry baby.” Seungmin responded.

“I know how much you love being in this group babe, I’d never ask you to leave it.” “Gah, you two are sickenly cute.” Hyunjin dramatically exclaims.

“Nice to see you too Hyunjin.” I wave to him.

“You too y/nnie.” he waves back smiling at me.

“So what is it that you wanted to tell us?” Han asks, getting us back on track.

“Oh yea. Y/n’s pregnant.” “No way! That’s amazing, congratulations y/nnie.” Chan walks up to me, giving me a hug. The rest of the boys follow suit, giving similar congratulations.

“You know, I always thought that it would be Channie who would have kids first out of all of us.” I.n pips up first.

“Honestly same.” Seungmin says from next to me.

“What can I say, the Mrs isn’t ready yet. She just wants it to be the two of us for right now.” Chan replies.

“I just know that Stays are going to lose their shit when they find out that not only are you not single but you're married.” I tell him teasingly

“It’ll be funny when they figure out it’s her that I wrote Railways about.”

“And Drive and Connected and Red Lights.” Hyunjin calls from across the room where he continues to stretch.

“Yea yea. Call me out all you want.” Chan calls back to him.

“It’s ok Chan, she loves it. And so do Stays.” I tease him

“But seriously, congrats guys. I’m really happy for you.” Chan gives both Seungmin and I hugs.

“Seungmin, does this mean you're going to go on hiatus?” Felix asks.

“No, I know Chan has offered it before in the past when we’ve gone on tour, and I assume the offer still stands but y/n plans to travel with us. During her pregnancy and after. The only time I’ll go on hiatus is right before the baby is born until the baby is around six months, then y/n and the baby will travel with us. As long as that's still ok with Chan?” Seungmin explains.

“That should be fine, the fans know that you have a wife. It might make it a little more tricky traveling wise but we can make it work.” Chan responds.

“I actually wanted to talk to both you and Seungmin about that.” I respond before Seungmin gets the chance.

“What’s up babe?” Seungmin asks.

“With me being pregnant now, I think it’s time that your fans know what I look like. They’ve always been supportive of the fact that you’ve been married, and now that we’re expecting, if they know what I look like it’ll make it easier to get through the airport if I can walk with you guys and your security.”

“That's a good point actually, y/n.”

“I agree, my love.” “Then it’s settled, we will talk to staff and on the next scheduled live stream for you, we will have y/nnie join you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I spend the rest of the day watching the boys practice for their upcoming comeback and dosing on the couch. Seungmin asks me multiple times throughout the day if I want to go home but I’d rather stay here with him and be surrounded by the people that I love most. I know that everything will be ok.

#seungmin x y/n #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin smut #skz smut #skz imagines

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kykyonthemoon · 2 days ago

Text

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 05: Sunshower

I was used to just him and me, always together. However, as we grew older, our own worlds expanded, and more people came.

I didn't think about it until one day.

That day, I headed to Caleb's school after class. We went to school and returned home together day by day. There was going to be a volleyball tournament between high schools in the district, so he often had to stay after class to practice. I chose a good spot in the grandstand, and finding him among the players on the field was not a problem to me at all.

Whether it was studying or playing sports, I loved seeing him putting all his mind into it. Occasionally, he would glance towards the stands, then smile when he saw me there. When he scored, I wouldn’t hesitate to stand up and scream: “YAYYY!!! CALEB YOU'RE SO COOL!!!” And every time, his teammates would constantly make fun of him till his ears turned crimson. While in the stands, the girls in the upper grades would glance and me and whispered:

“Who is that girl?”

“I don’t know. She must be crazy about Caleb…”

“Who wouldn’t like him? Caleb is so handsome, and kind!”

“OMG!!! He’s staring at us!!!”

A few seats ahead of me, the females began to conceal their faces and laugh among themselves. I had no idea why my stomach felt uneasy. I sat down and remained silent throughout the practice that day.

Of course, Caleb didn't understand what upset me so much. Even I could not know what it was. I was too young to start dating, yet old enough to acknowledge the most beautiful emotions of my youth were blossoming. Every afternoon, I waited for Caleb at the sports court before we came home together. And every afternoon, I caught him surrounded by so many other girls.

There was no doubt how popular he was at school. I should be happy for him, since he was everyone's favorite. Yet why could I not get rid of this uncomfortable feeling in my heart? Was it because I was used to being the only one by his side? Was it because I disliked the idea of sharing him with anyone else?

That day, after his practice, I saw Caleb talking to a classmate. She was proposing that they take a stroll home together, it seemed. My fists clenched, head bowed, I walked away. There was a tint of soreness on my nose.

After a while, I heard Caleb calling my name. My feet didn't stop, they wanted to go even faster. He caught up with me and took hold of my wrist.

"Pip-squeak? You didn't wait for me today?"

His naïve expression infuriated me even more. I pulled my hand away from him and replied:

"Go home with her."

Every step I made now vented the path that had done nothing wrong. Caleb casually strolled beside me and said:

"Who? Is there anyone else other than the two of us?"

He took notice of my silence, then pulled my hand to stop me. “Come on. Tell me, what have I done wrong?”

The radiant smile on his lips forced me into the situation where I failed to keep my poker face. I pouted and gave him an unkind cheek squeeze, saying:

“Stop smiling.”

“On't ou ike it en I ile?" (Don't you like it when I smile?)

Caleb said as I rubbed his cheeks to let out my sulking though he did not do anything wrong. That very moment, it began to rain, even though the golden sun was still shining brightly.

“Oh, a sunshower?…”

“This is also known as fox rain. Legend has it that when it’s both sunny and raining, it’s the time for the fox to welcome his bride. But our Gran said that this type of weather indicates a quarrel between the Sun God and the Rain God.” Caleb explained and turned to face me. “It seems that you are mad at me too, pip-squeak. I'm not sure what I did wrong, but... could you kindly forgive me??”

I didn’t answer right away, yet the smile on my lips gave him the answer. I held his hand in mine and we continued walking on the long path.

“Caleb… Will you… date someone else in the future?”

“Huh? Dating? Why are you curious about it?”

“Well… I was just thinking… When I grow up a little more and you’re not with anyone, I… I will be your date... Is that alright?”

Our hand squeezed, he grinned, as bright as the sun and the rainbow in the rain in front of our path home.

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faerghusfucker · 2 days ago

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hello tumblr user faerghusfucker, I love your character design takes. The detail in the Felix hair take fascinates me, because I personally know nothing about hair. Do you have any other hair-headcanons about other characters in the game?

hello tumblr user maxthewickedgoblin!!! the answer is yes i do, and i just need to preface this post by stating just how excited this ask got me. i got it in the middle of working on a pile of assignments and i decided to make answering it a reward for when i finished them all bc this is a topic im so passionate abt that even just giving myself time to THINK more abt it is like a treat.

also this is the first post im making from my computer instead of my phone lol, i anticipate itll be a long one so. it's real keyboard time. btw if yall want me to expand on any of these more you need only ask and i will yap for all eternity. i hold this information in my soul all the time i love yapping abt this shit

An Eclectic Collection of FE3H Hairstyle Headcanons

ingrid's father doesn't allow her to cut her hair. it's like unwieldy long pre-ts and it looks super split ends-y, probably to make her more "marriageable" and appealing to the noblemen that he sends her proposals from. In both houses and hopes she defies his wishes by joining the army, and i think her cutting her hair is a symbol of that defiance as well. she is COMMITTING to the knighthood thing, marriage is of no concern to her, and so she changes her appearance as a result

similar thing with mercedes!!! she has the same marriage conflict as ingrid does (it's a little different with her tho, ingrid loves her father and mercedes. well you know), and i think the hair thing caries over too. she becomes a nun post-ts in houses and cuts her hair way shorter, but there's also a noticeable lack of the fluffy, wavy texture it has pre-ts. idk if this would be a requirement for nuns in the church of seiros, but it seems that in turning herself fully over to her faith, she also reduced her focus on worldly/selfish things such as fancy products for her hair and spending hours on styling it, so maybe that's why it's so much straighter in addition to being shorter

i know i already yapped abt felix FAR too much so here's a cutesy one lol i think he lets ppl play with his hair if they want to. he lets mercedes brush it and put braids in it when she misses emille and he didnt protest too hard when annette wanted to put flowers in it for the ball (spoiler for my ball felix design). he also takes SUPER good care of it. of all the characters in the game except maybe hilda, his hair routine is the most detailed. you know he has special brushes and oils and shit, his hair is SILKYYYY

you didnt think i JUST had blue lions headcanons, did you???? SURPRISE

i think dorothea's natural hair texture is her post-timeskip houses one, and in every other design she's curled it. i mean come on, she was a diva in an opera company, of course she knows how to do her hair super nice, and she carried that skill with her to the academy to try and attract a good spouse. but as we learn more about her and she grows up a little more, she starts to drop her flirty facade and be more authentic instead, and you guessed it, wearing her natural hair more :3

linhardt is VERY picky abt his hair length. obviously hes autistic and so he probably doesnt like how it feels when the cold air hits his neck. but at the same time, when his hair gets longer than his shoulders it tangles too easily, and it's far too much work to brush all of that hair. his hair has to sit AT his shoulders (in hopes he gets too busy with the war effort to cut it and so he's in-between haircuts in that one. he hates it so much. someone give my dear son a trim)

ferdinand's hair grows CRAZY fast. did you guys see the length of it in the houses timeskip????? unreal. like linhardt he starts out very meticulous with it-- a nobleman must be well-groomed, after all-- but once the war starts and he loses his territory i think he gets a lil depressed and kind of just. doesnt do it anymore lol

this one's a little out there but i think hubert is blind in his hidden eye and thats why he puts his hair over it. hes never told anyone abt it bc it would be a major weakness in battle if someone knew he had a massive blind spot. this is part of the reason he takes so well to magic thats super big and destructive so he doesnt need to be super precise abt where he's hitting. he struggles with weapons A LOT so he makes sure hes an absolute beast in magic to make up for it

marianne never learned to do her own hair, but she learned to braid horse manes after spending so much time with them and so she just applied that knowledge to herself. after getting closer to hilda, she very nervously and quietly asked if she could show her how to make her hair look nice, and homegirl JUMPED at the opportunity (hilda had been wanting to fix her gf's hair up for so long but she was being nice abt it)

lorenz lets his father cut his hair for him. need i say more

byleth (both of them) trims their hair with a dagger, and they've gotten really good at it. mercenery work doesn't pay well enough for things like hairdressers, and they've never really given much thought to their appearance until arriving at the monastery and having everyone ogle at them all the time.

that SHOULD be everything but i'll probably think of more later. i legit thought of a few new ones as i wrote them lmao. i'm actually going to school for game design rn and specializing in concept art so this is the type of shit i think of. for my career lmao it's super fun. please spam my askbox with headcanons or questions or whatever the fuck i love to talk and i think it's bonkers other ppl like to read what i write lol. see you next time with that felix drawing :3

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kingkai4ever · 3 days ago

Note

i love you you're so right about calypso!!! putting this anon because i dont doubt that people will send death threats to me if i openly express that i hate this ship.

another point: even if she DID have her aging stopped on the island, which is very much so unconfirmed, she still aged before? like? she was at MINIMUM 100+ mentally when she got to the island. gods age QUICK. that wasn't a baby. she's not 16, because appearance ≠ age. artemis looks twelve, canonically. except artemis is absolutely Not Twelve™.

some of these guys are pulling their defenses out of their ass. even if she was 16, screaming at and berating leo for his appearance (a sore spot of his + out of his control) and trying to... *checks notes*... make a machine to save a missing child? like? thats all he did and she went on a full page long rant about how "YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOUR MACHINES! NOT EVERYTHING CAN BE FIXED WITH A PROGRAM!!!"

also, if she's 16, then her trying to get with percy was ALSO VERY WEIRD! because he was 14 at the time. she was implied to be physically attracted to an /unconscious 14 year old boy./ also, iirc she changed his clothes. while he was UNCONSCIOUS.

hardcore caleo fans are like conspiracy theorists. you can wave the evidence in front of their face and they'll never believe you. rick also violently ripped away all chance of a support system that leo might have had (everyone in his life, including the people providing his housing, are on her side despite clear abuse)

lets be honest here. caleo would not be nearly as popular as it is if the characters were genderswapped.

I love how you said this and I agree as well!

I think smth people forget is that…we don’t know who calypso’s mom is, meaning that there is a possibility that she could’ve been immortal beforehand because of who her mother was. Also, even if she was mentally a 16 year old she is acting like a jerk. What 16 year old would berate and try to discourage her boyfriend constantly?

And also, “Percy was 14 she was 16 it was fine!”

She’s physically 16. And I looked at the pjo wiki and guess what it says? 4612. She’s the same age as apollo. “But it’s chronologically!” Well Apollo as Lester was chronologically 4612 years old but you guys said he was a child liker so confessing to Reyna when Apollo is eternally youthful.

No normal 16 year old would try to discourage their boyfriend from trying to find a missing person. No normal 16 year old would insult someone’s appearance the second they see them. Some 16 year old do but you wanna know what type they are? Jerks.

It just blows my mind that people will look at Apollo and call him a kid liker for confessing to Reyna when calypso dated a 15 year old and she is the same age as him. And also since I have to clarify to people. Time does move slowly on her island. But if she actively knows what is happening with her curse and everything, knowing that she’s a technical immortal, don’t you find that weird?

It’s not like the lotus casino where the victims are literally BRAINWASHED into forgetting basically everything about themselves and they age slowly. Yes calypso ages slowly on her island, but I find it hard to believe she’s just some little girl if nowhere does it say that she doesn’t mentally age or imply it. At least in the lotus casino it’s implied what happened just with Bianca and Nico + the trio when they got there in the first book.

Also I wanted to answer a question while I’m typing this

“Why are you going all crazy over this? It’s just books!” (This isn’t what the official anon said they were actually very nice I just can’t remember what they said but ty for asking this question! :) )

I’m going “crazy” over this because the main target audience for Percy Jackson….are children. Like, pre-teens and all. At that age you are still very naive and can still learn things from the world, pieces of media and etc that can change your behaviors and opinions.

I remember being a preteen and shipping….oh god…TomTord EWWWW.

And we all know that ship sucked and was pretty abusive and idk why we all said that was a good ship to do LOL. But an entire group of people was influenced by a toxic and abusive ship into thinking it’s good and cute ignoring the very obvious abuse signs.

Now I’m not calling pre-teens dumb or anything like that, I’m saying that pre-teens still are developing, they don’t know who they are, so what good is it to them if they’re told “this person likes to 🍇pe people and is attracted to minors but ignore that and look at this abusive ship that we’re trying to say is cute!”

You get my point? What happens to those kids that think that, that’s how a real relationship should work? That a woman can prey on them and say “it’s fine”?

I don’t want kids thinking that these behaviors are normal, that it shows how a real relationship should look like. If we can decrease the amount of child victims in any way it’s good, but telling kids saying that a clearly abusive and predatory ship is okay it’s disgusting.

Male victims are real victims, I don’t care what gender you identify as or what sexuality you are, if you are affected by someone like an abusive and predatory person then you are a victim.

And we need to stop telling kids that these relationships are normal. We need to tell them to stay away from people like this, that they shouldn’t be forced into an abusive or predatory relationship, to not become that.

I don’t want kids thinking that this stuff is normal and cute, because teaching young kids that is terrible and disgusting. And the reason we should hate calypso isn’t “she cursed Annabeth” but the fact that she is a 🍇pist and a predator and an abusive partner that manipulates and guilt trips people into getting what she wants.

That’s the reason I hate calypso. If it wasn’t okay for into do, or if it wasn’t okay for Apollo to confess to Reyna, then it shouldn’t be okay for calypso to do it either.

#percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #rick riordan #trials of apollo #greek mythology #calypso #CALYPSO HATE #ANTI CALYPSO #leo valdez #odysseus #male victims are victims too #i’m not sorry for the rant lol #rant post #rant

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heartforbangtan · 1 day ago

Text

The only exception | 4

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader

Genre: Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining

Chapter Count: 4 /? (ongoing)

Word count: 7,5k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: Hiii, I'm back agaaain. This chapter is a bit spicy 😋😋 just saying 👀

Tag list

⭠ previous | index | next ⭢

Our secret moments in a crowded room They got no idea about me and you Dress – Taylor Swift

Busan

You don't know when it started, but suddenly Jimin's favorite hobby was flirting with you without anyone seeing. More and more he said things that drove you crazy. And you never knew if he was telling the truth or just teasing you.

You walked down the school hallway during your break, looking for Jimin who was in a different room in this class.

You hear a voice calling you and look back. A girl you've only seen a few times at school approaches you with red cheeks. You can't remember her name.

“Hey...“ she says with a little smile.” You're Jimin's friend, right?’

Oh, you knew what this was. She was interested in him. Here we go again.

It was a question she knew the answer to, after all, everyone at school knew that you two were friends.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“So... can you please give him this note?“ She hands you a small piece of paper. ”It has my name and number written on it.’

“Okay…” you agree a little reluctantly, but she didn't even notice because she was too focused looking behind you.

You really didn't understand that. If she wanted to talk to him so badly, why didn't she just give him the note herself? It would give off more of an air of trust than sending others to do her job. You were too tired of that.

When you turn around, you find Jimin across the hall laughing with some friends. Seriously, she's so silly about this.

You take a deep breath and give her a toothless smile. When you turn back to find Jimin, he's already looking at you, smiling. You walk towards him and Jimin separates from his friends and heads further to the right side of the hallway to meet you.

She watches as you go talk to Jimin.

“Hey” you say smiling as you stop in front of him.

“Hi.” Jimin smiles seductively and you know that smile is what makes girls fall in love.

But you won't fall.

“So…” his gaze goes to your hand holding the note.

“You already know what it is." You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Give it to me.” He stretches out his hand and you hand him the note. Jimin opens it and takes a look, without taking the shit-eating smile off his face.

Jimin leans close to your ear to speak while looking at the girl.

“I only have eyes for you, you know that. “ Jimin chuckles and you are left speechless.

What?!

He gave the girl a wink, but you couldn't see it.

Jimin puts the paper in his pocket and walks away laughing. You blink a few times and then compose yourself. The girl was almost jumping up and down where you left her waiting.

Within seconds you had to process what happened and come up with an excuse for her, because she was already coming towards you.

“So? What did he say?” she asked excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“It’s...He said he'll send a message.”

You felt bad, but what could you do?

“Oh my god, thank you so much“ she hugs you happily and you don't have time to hug her back before she leaves to meet her friends.

The girl, whose name you didn't even care about, leaves happily to meet her friends and tell them what happened. But you remain almost paralyzed in place, still thinking about Jimin's words.

Seriously, who can handle that? There's no way he could have shaken your foundations with just those words. Even though you reminded yourself every day that you wouldn't fall for his charms. Here you are now, blushing like a 15-year-old (which wasn't that long ago). But that doesn't matter.

When the break is over, you're still thinking about the same thing. And when you walk back into the classroom and see Jimin acting like nothing happened, you almost think you've imagined things.

You can't believe the nerve he has. How could he say that to you and then act like nothing happened?

You sit at a table in front of him, but you don't give him any importance. You take your things out of your bag and start organizing them on the table so you have something to occupy yourself with.

Soon the grammar teacher enters the room, arranging his own desk before starting the class.

You sigh deeply. The last thing you wanted was to have grammar class. But finals are approaching and you can't afford to miss them.

While you're distracted looking through your notebook for the last notes from your grammar class, Jimin leans over his desk behind you. His chin stops just above your shoulder, making you jump in your seat and he pulls away.

“Easy, baby.“ Jimin says softly just for you to hear.

You close your eyes tightly, anger taking over your body.

It's obvious he would make fun of you. And the fact that you reacted exactly the way he wanted makes you even angrier. You wish you had more self-control.

“Don't call me that.” you say through your teeth quietly, only for him to hear too.

Everyone is still talking in the classroom, so almost no one pays attention to your little interaction with Jimin.

“Why not?“ he pauses dramatically. ”Baby?"

You turn around so you can look him in the eye and find Jimin looking a little seductive for a thursday morning grammar class.

Jimin subtly runs his tongue across his mouth and your eyes betray you when they fly straight to his mouth. You hate yourself for this once again. Once again you fell into his game. And Jimin is already smiling when he realizes that for a second you looked at his lips.

“You piece of sh…”

“Well, everyone, let's start today's class. Please be quiet.”

You let out a snort and turn around, not before seeing Jimin staring at your mouth and then quickly at your eyes.

He is unbelievable!

The rest of the class passed by in a torturous manner. You could barely pay attention to the new concepts the teacher was talking about because you were too aware of Jimin's presence behind you.

“Or Jimin really likes you or he's gay.” Yuna says with the calmest face you've ever seen, as if she hadn't just made you almost choke on her words.

“What did you say?”

You have to stop your snack to question her. You heard very well what she said, but you can't believe it.

“That's right, you heard it. Don't pretend you don't see it either.“ She raises an eyebrow, showing that she's not joking about the subject.

You shift uncomfortably on the grass of the schoolyard where you are sitting during break.

“I don't think he's gay…” your mind flies to all the moments you had together and a shiver runs down your legs.

“So he likes you.” she doesn't hesitate to say.

Yuna speaks as if she were saying that the weather is sunny today.

“I don't think that's it either. “ your heart was beating fast in your chest.

“Really? So how do you explain the way he looks at you and the care he only has for you?”

Yuna crosses her arms in front of her body.

“It's just... normal. We're like brothers, we've known each other since childhood.” you start to sweat nervously at your friend's question.

You know she doesn't mean any harm. But you weren't prepared to hear today that Jimin seems to have feelings for you.

Exactly this week. After all the wills you had to go through.

Today really wasn't your day.

“My brother doesn't treat me like that. He's always hitting me and calling me a pig for leaving my towel in the bathroom.” She laughs and you force one too.

“It's just the way he is.”

And you're not lying when you say that. Jimin has a gentle way of being that no one you know has. He's just him.

And you're sure he doesn't treat you in any special way. Jimin is kind to everyone and that's easily noticeable. There's no reason to second-guess yourself because of it.

“Oh stop, tell me you don't have a little crush on him” she pushes your shoulder and waggles her eyebrows.

You stay silent for a few seconds, but she doesn't give you time to question yourself.

“Come on!” she almost whines, while continuing to push you with her shoulder.

“Think about his thick lips and... Oh! His hot ass, jesus!”

“Stop it!”

You two are laughing so hard.

“I don't know. Maybe?” you laugh shyly and she widens her eyes.

As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

This was sure to spark gossip. And you really didn't want people to start bothering you about it. Not after you and Jimin had spent so long denying that you liked each other.

“See? I knew there was something there. Hoseok owes me 10 dollars for this.” she celebrates without even paying attention to your terrified face.

Wait. Hoseok?

“Hoseok owes you? What the hell is this?” your face contorts in confusion.

“Oh, honey, we all bet you two have a crush on each other. I just didn't think it would be that easy to get it out of you. “ She laughs and you get a little irritated.

“You mean you don't care about my feelings?” your tone changes and her playful expression falls.

This is so out of line. You didn't expect your friends to make bets involving the two of you like this.

“Y/n, it's not that. Please don't think about it this way. We all want you to be together, trust me.” she holds your hand and has a genuine expression on her face.

You feel like she's starting to get a little desperate in the way she talks.

“You're already assuming he has some kind of interest in me.”

You play dumb to her, even though you know that Jimin is interested in you. But you think that maybe it's not like that. You think that what you two do is just a fun pastime and that it doesn't mean anything deeper than that.

And you know that for you, things are becoming problematic. But maybe for Jimin, it's just fun to have a girl available for him to kiss. And being you, someone he knows, makes everything easier.

And deep down, really deep down, you'd like to hear from an outsider that Jimin seems to like you. Somehow it comforts your heart and your ego, even if you have to ask him directly to be sure. But obviously you're not going to do that.

“Oh, come on. Everyone can see that he has a huge crush on you.”

Your face heats up once more at her words.

“I don't think so.”

“Seriously? Everyone has already noticed you two being clingy with each other. Oh chimchim this, mimi that“ she does a terrible imitation of your voice and you push her aside.

‘Stop it. I'm not like that.” you start laughing, because it's ridiculous.

And it's true.

“Of course it is. Ugh, I can't stand you two, seriously. I wish I had someone like that for myself.”

She rolls her eyes and you both start laughing.

It had been a while since you had shared something so intimate with someone other than Jimin.

Sometimes it was nice to have a girl talk.

“But seriously, is there nothing going on between you two?’ she nibbles on the cookies you are eating.

You stop and think.

It had really been a long time since you had any girl talk. What harm would it do to have some of that now?

You needed that escape.

“Okay, if I tell you, will you promise me two things? “ you say, uncertain, but already implying that you have a secret.

She widens her eyes and finishes chewing the cookie.

“Sure, I promise you even three." You laugh at her face. ”Seriously, no bets now.”

You straighten up on the grass you're sitting on.

“First you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Of course.”

“Second, please don't freak out too much about it. It's really no big deal.”

You know it's a big deal.

“Okay…” she analyzes you, waiting for you to continue.

“Seriously, don't tell anyone.”

“Just say it already”

“So... we've already, um, kissed “ you fiddle with your fingers looking down, because you're dying of embarrassment.

Her jaw drops and she even drops the cookie she was holding.

“I knew it! I knew soo much! My God.”

You glared at her.

“Alright, alright, no freaking out.”

She tries to control herself.

“When did it happen? Like, how? Oh my god, there are so many questions.”

She looks like a crazy person looking at you.

“Okay, calm down. It's not a big deal, it's just kisses.”

“Kisses? In plural?”

Shit.

You cover your face with your hands, blushing. You're starting to think you've said too much.

“You're so dirty! I can't believe you gave kisses to Park Jimin! “ she slaps you on the arm

“It's no big deal, I swear.”

“Okay, but how did this happen? Tell me the details, for God’s sake.”

She shakes you by the arm.

“I don't know. It just happened. I won't tell you too many details…”

“Urgh, okay. But... when was the last time you guys kissed?’

You pause, wondering if you should tell her. She looks at you with a dramatic look, as if to say, “just spill it.”

“Y-yesterday”

Her jaw dropped for the tenth time today. You blushed again.

“Yesterday?! That's insane.”

“Keep your voice down, everyone will hear you.”

You look around suspiciously.

“You're so in love!”

“That's not it!”

“Oh, it is! My God, you guys are so stupid.”

You start to pack your things because the break is almost over. But really you just wanted an excuse to get out of this subject. You're starting to get nervous.

“I shouldn't have told you that.”

“Hey!”

She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her.

“It's alright, okay?” she looks deep into his eyes, seeing the desperation.” It's okay to like someone, even if it's your best friend.”

You try to let go of her because your heart starts to tighten and you don't want to start crying in the middle of the courtyard.

“He likes you too.”

She says in a last attempt to make you listen.

“This won't lead to anything.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

She's getting up too and you kind of turn your back, grabbing your backpack.

“There's nothing to say.”

“Y/n…”

“Enough, okay? I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

She looks a little sad, but she understands your request.

“Okay. Just know that I will always support you.”

Your heart softens a little, despite the erratic beats it's making.

“Thank you, really.”

“And I won’t tell Hoseok that I won the bet.”

You slap her arm and she starts laughing.

And you walk together to your next class, with time running out and arriving 5 minutes late.

After all the talk with Yuna, you suddenly became very aware of Jimin's presence and all his actions towards you.

And deep down you wish he liked you too.

Jimin is researching dance schools on the computer in his room. The research has been long and he hasn't been happy with some of the comments. Jimin watched some videos explaining how the selection process works for most schools, and some of the comments on the videos complained about the strict rules of these places.

A random comment said:

Kot878: These places are tough on training. And they don't even let you date!

That couldn't be true, right? About the training maybe, but they couldn't forbid them from dating, right?

Jimim got nervous. He knew he wasn't dating anyone, but he couldn't help but fantasize about it. What if you liked him too? Maybe you could date, right?

Jimin was paralyzed looking at that comment, when he heard the sound of footsteps and the door to his room was quickly opened.

“Boo”

Jimin gets scared by you and quickly closes the browser window.

"Shit! Knock before entering.”

“What are you doing? Watching porn?” you giggle and move closer to him.

Jimin was already nervous because you almost caught him looking at that information, after what you said he got even more nervous.

“O-of course not. Are you idiot?”

“Then why did you close the browser window?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and move closer to the computer.

“I was just looking at some dance schools.”

And suddenly you forgot that you were questioning him. Your face lit up with his words and you became excited.

“Really? And how is it going?”

You sit on his bed, waiting for him to answer.

“I haven’t found any nearby yet.”

Jimin wasn’t lying. But that random information he read in a comment left a huge doubt in his head. He would have to look better after you left.

“Hm, but you can move to another city if you get in”

But what about you? Would you stay apart?

“But...”

“I could go with you.”

“What!? No.” Jimin says quickly. He didn’t want to change cities.

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” you pout looking at him.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want to have to move to another city.” Jimin exhales. This whole situation of looking for dance schools has been stressing him out.

“Well, but maybe that’s the only option”

You’re probably right.

“I’ll take a better look later.”

You nod, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed.

“So, what are you doing here?”

You suddenly remember why you came here.

“I need you to teach me how to study.”

“But your grades are good, right? There’s no need for me to teach you.”

“No! I need to do even better this time. My parents will give me the album of the band I like if I do well.”

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you on the bed, coming closer and making you lean back on your arms.

“You enter a boy's room very freely.”

You swallow. He looks so serious. You feel a little nervous at the sudden change in mood.

“It's just you.”

“And?”

“I-I trust you.”

Jimin remains in the same position, too close to you and analyzing you. He thinks that you still don't see him as a man, even though you've kissed several times.

“What is that?”

You look so pretty like this, with a slightly flushed and confused face. Jimin can only think that he wants to kiss you everywhere. But he doesn't want to pressure you and you end up thinking that he's going too far. What if you stop talking to him? He wouldn't be able to stand that.

Then he rethinks and walks away from you.

“Just... Don't go into boys' rooms like that.”

Jimin sits next to you on the bed, not looking at your face. You get more nervous. What did he mean by that?

“Uhh, okay?”

You actually thought he was going to kiss you again for a few seconds. And honestly, you really wanted him to.

You couldn't muster up enough courage to say that you came here not only because you wanted him to teach you how to study better, but because you wanted to be with him. And maybe... you could get some kisses from him.

“What subjects do you need help with?”

“We can start with math.”

You're trying to memorize the stages of cell division in the library, but you can't figure out how to make it happen logically. You keep forgetting the order all the time and it's already stressing you out.

Pro meta ana tel... That's it! You got it-

“So, have you guys done it yet?” Yuna whispers, sitting next to you.

You write down the logical sentence in your notebook and are happy with your idea. You barely paid attention to what Yuna said, focusing your attention on the logic you just created.

“Yeah, we already did the work—”

“You guys had sex!?”

“What? Oh my god, Yuna, I was talking about the history work”

Your voice gets a little loud from the shock you got from Yuna's words. Some of your classmates give you two ugly looks. Your face is already hot and Yuna's eyes are wide open as she stares at you.

“My God, I say. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Stop thinking nonsense and study!” you look away from her and point to the notebooks, organizing your study sheets that don’t need to be organized.

“I’m tired of studying. And your life is cooler than mine, so I want to know more.”

She rests her face in her hands and pouts. You really can’t stand it.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“Why? It’s normal to do these things.”

Once again, the subject is turning to things you really don’t want to talk about right now, and certainly not in the middle of the library. You feel like you two are going to be thrown out of the library any minute.

You take a deep breath and try to speak as quietly as possible, and in a way that Yuna will end the damn subject.

“We’re not going to do…that.”

“Why not?”

She looks like a child like that.

“Let's focus on studying, hm?”

She snorts.

“Give me some love advice.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

You grab a sheet of paper with notes and hand it to her.

“Seriously.” She takes the paper and looks at it without interest. “Maybe I like Hoseok.”

“Hobi? Oh my God, I knew this was weird.”

Now it’s your turn to disconnect from your studies. She never told you that.

“And we kissed.”

What? What the hell?

Yuna says it like it's no big deal, still analyzing the sheet you handed her without interest. Now you're totally into the subject, you don't want to study anymore.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t tell me anything about your life.”

“That’s a lie. I told you things I’ve never told anyone.”

“Hey, you two. Be quiet.” The librarian snaps at you and you flinch, nodding.

Yuna comes closer and tries to speak more quietly.

“Well, I’ll only tell you if you tell me what’s going on between you two.”

Yuna shrugs, as if she’s not blackmailing you for information. You can’t believe her nerve. You have nothing interesting to say about this.

“There really isn’t anything going on between us.”

She looks at you with a “seriously?” face and you sigh for the infinite time.

“We just like to kiss each other, that’s it. Now tell me about Hobi.”

She gives up and then starts talking.

“So, we kissed the other day and...”

“You two. I’m going to ask you to find another place to study.”

And you feel so embarrassed about being kicked out of the library that you end the subject there. You really needed to memorize the content for the test.

At the beginning of your 18th birthday, things start to get a little out of control.

“We should stop doing this... “ you say, but your voice isn't confident at all. Not when he's kissing your neck like that.

“This what?”

And on top of that, Jimin plays dumb. He wants to see you admit what you're doing.

He continues to place delicate kisses along your neck and up to your ear. Your heart is already beating hard inside your chest with all the excitement he is causing you.

“This!”

You grab him by the shoulders and pull him away. You were sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with your notebooks spread out on the mattress. His gaze, his full lips, everything is too tempting for you and your eyes waver. He knows you want to continue.

“Why should we?” he asks, almost pouting.

His voice destroys you. You never imagined you would see him so full of lust. He does it on purpose because he knows how much it affects you.

“We're not focusing on our studies.“ and his eyes couldn't stop looking at his lips.

That wasn't exactly why you thought you should stop this, but it was still true.

It was your senior year of high school. You decided to come home with the excuse that you were going to study for the biology test that would be first thing in the morning tomorrow. And here you were, making out in your room instead of studying.

This whole situation was taking on proportions you hadn't imagined. You both didn't know exactly how it started, but before you knew it, you were already kissing. Neither of you wanted to think too much about it and how far it could go. You were afraid to think about the barriers you could cross if the emotion took over too much.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were always interrupted when things were getting too heated. And internally you thanked God, because the fear of making that decision was too much..

You two were almost always getting caught and it became a routine.

“I think we're studying biology very well.” he said in a naughty tone.

And there's that mischievous little smile of his that takes you apart. His hands are already on your waist without you realizing it, squeezing lightly and bringing you closer to him, inviting you to sit on his lap, but not doing so yet.

“Okay, 5 more minutes. But we need to focus, seriously!”

Jimin smiles triumphantly because he knows he won. He doesn't waste any more time, knowing that you really need to focus on your studies after this. He pushes his notebooks aside in a desperate way and it makes you laugh.

Jimin's thoughts are so clouded by lust that he can only think of one thing. So he leaves reason aside.

“Sit on my lap.”

“What?” you get a little nervous with his request, not knowing how to act.

“Come”

His hands push you around the waist and you follow the movement, sitting forward on his lap. His back is against the headboard while his hands caress your legs.

You try not to think too much about the position you're in. You're afraid you won't be able to control yourself when it comes to Jimin. He has a seductive way that only grows as the years go by.

Your lips meet again and your hands caress his soft hair. Everything about him is soft: his hair, his lips, his heart. And you are so addicted that you can't even think straight.

His tongue enters your mouth and you let out a soft sigh. Jimin chuckles as he kisses you, his hands moving from your legs to your hips and then grabbing your waist. He kisses you harder and pushes you down onto his lap. A surprised moan leaves your mouth because you can feel how turned on he is just from kissing you like this.

You're already aroused, too. In fact, you're pretty sure you're already soaking wet. Your parts are screaming for some friction, any movement that will ease that growing throb.

The caresses of his delicate fingers together with his increasingly skilled tongue in your mouth makes you lose self-control and start rubbing yourself on his lap.

You move just enough for that throbbing to stop bothering you. But his kiss is addictive and his hands caress you in such a light way that it makes you lose all the self-control you should have.

His hands holding your hips encourage you to continue rubbing yourself on his lap. Jimin sighs, also affected by the way you are grinding on top of him. He feels like he could explode with lust. Your flushed face, with your lips slightly parted, letting out sighs, is certainly the most erotic image he has ever seen in his life.

The way his hard erection rubs right against your most sensitive spot makes you close your eyes tightly. Slowly letting low moans escape your lips as you still kiss awkwardly.

“Do you like this?”

Jimin kisses your cheek, collarbone, behind your ear, your neck in several parts. He seems to be adoring you and at that moment it was all you needed the most.

“Oh-yes”

You grip his shoulders as you use more strength to shift on his lap. His legs bend to bring you closer, pressing you completely against him.

You can feel the pleasure growing in the pit of your stomach, but the insecurity of finishing in front of him starts to hit you harder. Your moans start to come out without your control and Jimin can sense it. He knows you're controlling yourself, by the way your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are furrowed.

He holds the back of your neck and kisses you. His other hand is on your hip pushing you down while his hips also work to pleasure you.

When you feel him pushing his hips against your core, you know you've already lost. Within seconds of this friction, you feel your orgasm building inside your belly. When you both push together once more, you feel the explosion of orgasm. Your moans can no longer be contained by his kisses. Your walls tighten around nothing and give you a feeling of satisfaction, but emptiness at the same time.

Your hands grip Jimin's shoulders tightly as you still rub yourself against his erection.

“Ah, Jimin…”

Jimin is in heaven listening to you softly moan his name over and over again. He swears he could have cum just from that if it weren't for the underwear and sweatpants squeezing him so tightly.

When you calm down, it still takes a few seconds for you to open your eyes and finally look at him.

You can't believe you just had an orgasm in front of Jimin. Something so intimate and so personal that you just shared it with him, your best friend.

"Did you finish?” Jimin asks, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You feel his other hand caressing your back, trying to relax you.

It takes you a long few seconds to gather the courage to say yes.

“I'm happy” Jimin kisses your cheek.

You don't get it.

“Why?”

“Because I made you feel good, right?”

You stay silent, staring at him and thinking how he can be so amazing.

At the same time your mind remembers that he is also horny and that he is probably dying because of it right now. You need to do something for him too. You want to do something for him.

“And you? How can I make you feel good?” your face automatically heats up.

“You don't have to do that” he gives a little smile. ”And we still need to finish studying” he looks around, at the mess that is the bedspread and at the study papers that fell on the floor.

“But I want to”

And you really do. But Jimin is hesitant and you can feel it. You just can't quite put your finger on why.

You don't realize it, but what Jimin has is insecurity. He's afraid of forcing you or that you're forcing yourself to do it for him. Maybe you can't even imagine him that way.

Just the idea that you might be forcing him to do this makes him lose his excitement.

When Jimin looks into your eyes again, you take him by surprise, kissing him. Both of your hands go to his face, caressing him as you kiss.

You pull away from him and let your foreheads touch.

“Show me how I can make you feel good too.”

Jimin sees sincerity in your eyes. So, he lets down his walls of insecurity and agrees to let you do it.

Something so simple and that any boy wouldn't hesitate to let a girl do. But he can't be like that. Jimin could never use someone just for his pleasure. He doesn't work that way.

“Okay…”

You sit a little further away, but still on top of his thighs. Just enough so that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Jimin guides your hand to the bulge between his legs and you touch it hesitantly. It's warm and hard and you gasp in surprise. Jimin doesn't miss a moment of your reactions.

You start to caress him over his pants, hesitant and embarrassed. You feel his eyes burning into you. Jimin analyzes your every move.

But you want more. You want to feel and see what it's like.

“Can I touch...?”

“You're touching.”

“Not like this.”

Jimin bites his lips.

You're going to drive him crazy like this.

Jimin takes your hand and puts it on the waistband of his pants. He doesn't stop to think about the situation, otherwise he would lose his courage. And deep down, you're also thinking the same thing.

You help him pull down his sweatpants and underwear, freeing his hard, hot member that rests against Jimin's belly.

You try not to look too surprised, but it's practically impossible. You swallow him with your eyes. This is the first time you've seen a dick in real life.

“What?” Jimin asks, a little embarrassed.

A thousand thoughts run through his head. You didn't like it? Was it what you expected? Maybe you think he is small?

He shifts uncomfortably on the bed and you look at him and notice his discomfort. Finally you answer.

“Nothing, it's... it's just the first time I've seen a... uh…”

“Dick?”

You close your eyes for a second at the way he talks. So dirty and different.

“Yeah…”

You don’t know how to say this, but Jimin is incredible. The shape and size, the veins covering him, the pink, leaking tip. You didn’t know you could get this turned on. Your eyes are glued to him.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes.” You say promptly.

Jimin feels a weight lift off his shoulders when he hears you responding so enthusiastically.

“You can touch.”

You bit your lip and reached out to touch him for the first time. You felt him in your hand, warm and hard. It was the first time you were touching him like this and also the first time you had touched anyone like this.

Your fingers closed around his cock and you tested how tight you could get. Jimin immediately closed his eyes and moaned. You glanced up at him, surprised by the sound he made.

Your heart started pounding in your chest and you felt that pulse return to your core. You could never imagine how sexy Jimin would look moaning like that and it definitely turned you on. You wanted to see more of this.

You start to move back and forth carefully, not sure if you should do it that way. You lick your lips and look at him. His eyes are glued to you, practically swallowing you.

“Here, squeeze like this.” He wraps his fingers together with yours and squeezes hard, showing you how much pressure you can apply.

Another moan escapes his lips, but this time Jimin continues to look directly at you.

“Now do it like this” he guides your hand up and down his cock, while he doesn't take his eyes off yours. ”Oh, that's it, just like that.” he moans with satisfaction when you take the rhythm by yourself.

You are fascinated by him. His moans encourage you to continue. Your hand quickly moves up and down his cock.

Jimin is lost in the vision he has of you giving him pleasure. He can't control his mind with the various dirty scenes he imagines the two of you doing.

Your eyes alternate between looking at his cock and watching his reactions. You want to lick it but you're afraid it'll be too much, so you settle for giving him pleasure with just your hand.

“I'm close…”

Jimin moans louder and you feel your parts contracting. It's so exciting to know that he's moaning like this because of you. You feel powerful and confident.

You squeeze him tighter in your hand and the noise is loud and sticky. His hand goes to your face and lifts your chin, caressing your jaw.

“You're so beautiful-oh”

You let out a soft moan because your wrist is starting to hurt, but you don't want to stop. Jimin looks like he's about to cum and you don't want to miss that scene.

Suddenly, you hear the front door creaking. You hear your mother calling your name from the living room, along with the sound of keys being dropped on the counter. Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you look at Jimin.

You quickly pull away.

Jimin stands up and pulls up his underwear along with his pants and tries to fix his hair, which is a mess.

Yours is also a mess and you try to tie it in a ponytail. As soon as you tie your hair, you pick up the notebooks that are thrown on the floor and try to fix the pages that fell.

Jimin sits at his computer desk with a notebook in his hand. He tries to adjust his erection that is painfully pressing inside his pants. He crosses his legs to try to hide it. Jimin runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it back and notices that his forehead is sweaty. He tries to wipe it off while you climb into bed and arrange your study materials.

Your mother knocks on the door at the same time and enters the room. She is surprised to see the two of you, but if she noticed anything, she didn't show it on her face.

“Ah, you're here. How dedicated. ” She says, smiling at the two of you.

“Good afternoon, ma'am.”

“Hi, mom. You're early today.” your voice comes out a little breathless and Jimin gives you a quick look, without your mother noticing.

“Oh yeah. I didn't have much work today so I ended up leaving early.” she explains and you agree. “What are you studying?”

Your mother's eyes scan your notebooks. You swallow.

“Biology”

It wasn't a lie.

But due to the events of a few minutes ago, this information suddenly seemed very funny.

Jimin does his best with his head down on his notebooks to keep from bursting out laughing. The last thing you need right now is to make a mistake in front of your mother.

“Oh, really?” your mother says. ”Next time, study in the living room okay? “ she looks at you two and winks.

Soon she leaves the door and leaves it leaning against it, you and Jimin with your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

You look at each other and start to laugh softly. You cover your mouth with your hand.

You feel so dirty but at the same time so alive. You can't understand it, you just feel a sense of happiness.

“Do you think she noticed?” Jimin asks

“Well, your hair is practically dripping.” you point out and he quickly starts running his hand through his hair. “I don't think she thinks it's that hard to study biology” you laugh a little

Jimin laughs as he finishes fixing his hair. Your hair isn't perfect either, but the ponytail disguised it a bit. What couldn't be disguised were your completely red cheeks, but that's just a detail.

“We didn't lie, at least.” Jimin says, shrugging.

You throw a pillow at him. He's so cheeky sometimes.

“Let's study for real now!”

You try to sound bossy but it doesn't come out as expected. But Jimin finds your mannerisms cute and agrees.

“Yes, ma'am!”

You really need to focus on something other than reflecting on the events from now.

Things have flowed at such a natural and pressure-free pace that you don’t feel as guilty as you thought you would. And most of all, you trust Jimin, so things are kinda okay.

The thing that bothers you and stayed in your head even when you were already taking a shower to go to bed at night is: things are moving forward gradually and that would be fine, if you weren't best friends.

And your head starts spinning because all of this started under the pretext that you were practicing your first kiss, but look at it now.

You really try not to think about it too much, but as soon as you lay your head on the pillow, the only thing that goes through your mind is: aren't we going too far?

As soon as Jimin enters the classroom early in the morning, the teacher calls on him for a few seconds before starting the class.

“Jimin, I need to talk to you. Please stay at the end of the class” the academic planning teacher says and takes Jimin by surprise.

Jimin agrees and goes to sit in class right behind you. You didn't see him go talk to the teacher because you were talking to the guys and he didn't have time to tell you because class started right after.

He couldn't get it out of his head even during class. Jimin already knew more or less what the teacher was going to say, but he was still nervous. He knew that time was running out and he needed to make a decision about it soon.

At the end of class, you gather your things and wait for Jimin. Everyone has already left but Jimin is still taking a long time.

“Come on, Mimi!”

Jimin is slower than usual. And quieter than usual. You didn't know why. You wanted to ask him on the way home.

“I'm going to have to stay here.”

You don't understand.

“Why?” your face wrinkles in confusion.

Jimin lifts his face and looks at you, he has a serious expression on his face.

“I have a meeting with the academic planning teacher.’

Now you understand. That means it's time for him to decide which dance school he wants to go to, so he can send in his documents and apply. Your heart starts beating faster.

“Oh, that's good, right? Is it about the dance school you want to go to?”

“Yeah…”

You notice that there's something strange about him. Why isn't he happy about this?

“What's wrong with you?”

“It's nothing, I'm just nervous.”

You give him a small smile and move closer to him. It's a big decision, you understand why he's nervous.

“It’s okay, Mimi. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

You know you’re closer than you should be because you can smell his scent and the warmth of his body. But there’s no one around right now and you let yourself be. To be honest, you’re a little tired of pretending you’re not that close in front of others.

Jimin gives you a sad smile. And all he can see are your eyes shining with excitement for him.

If you only knew...

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me”

The room is empty and the school is starting to get quiet because everyone has already rushed out to leave.

Jimin comes closer to you and seals your lips for a few seconds. You are so surprised that you don't even have time to close your eyes.

“For luck”

And you blush.

“I'll go first then.”

Jimin agrees with you and you say goodbye.

"I really think you should apply to that dance school in Seoul, Jimin. It's your best chance, even if it's far away."

Jimin considers the teacher's words, his hands sweating coldly in his lap. Jimin knows the teacher is right, but he doesn't know what to say to that. He hadn't anticipated this whole situation, this whole sudden change of scenery.

He couldn't imagine living in another city alone.

“I know it's a big step to live away from your parents, but you should consider this possibility if it's really your dream.”

Jimin just agrees with everything the teacher says, but he can't say much, even though he's thinking a thousand things at the same time.

"And with your grades and your talent, I'm sure you'll get in."

Jimin is happy, really. But some things hold him back, despite his happiness. And he feels conflicted about his feelings.

When he gets home that day, he knows he's already made up his mind. He just doesn't know how to tell you. And even though you said you'd go with him, he knows that wouldn't be a reality. Your parents are too strict about letting you go to college far from home.

Jimin decides to wait a little longer to tell you about it.

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