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novaursa · 4 months ago

Note

What about a Jace x sister

Where he fell in love with her and in the same time he is not ok with it. He might be the only Targaryen related who thinks that’s not okay to loved their related. But no matter how he can stopped loving her, she might have a look more “Targaryen” with white hair with some black in it (narcissia Malfoy style?)

He always do some weird shit to be closed to her without drow to much attention, And when they finally get really closed their mother call all the bastard to become dragon rider. And Ulf find them in the Pit and try to get something from them in exchange of his silence.

Jace wake up and choose violence 🫣 and just say no and fuxk her in front of him and say that if he say anything he make sure his dragon will eat him

Sins of the Blood

- Summary: Jacaerys always loved his sister, more than he should. It was wrong, he knew it, but the dragon in him claimed you as his long ago.

- Paring: sister!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are closed!

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've bonded the reader with Grey Ghost for the plot.

The sea breeze dances through the open halls of Dragonstone, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant roar of the waves. You stand with Baela and Rhaena on the sun-warmed terrace overlooking the cliffs, the three of you bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Your laughter rings out, clear and melodic, mingling with the cries of the gulls that circle above.

Jacaerys Velaryon watches from a distance, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He knows he should not be here, should not be watching you so closely, but he cannot help himself. You, his sister, the only daughter of Rhaenyra, have been a constant presence in his life, a source of both comfort and confusion. His eyes trace the silver streaks in your hair, a reminder of your Targaryen blood, mingling with the deep brown inherited from your true father, though only you, he, and his mother know the truth.

He remembers when you were children, how you would chase each other through the halls of the Red Keep, your laughter infectious, your bond inseparable. He had always been protective of you, even when you didn’t need it. You were fierce, a dragon through and through, and yet, as you stand now with Baela and Rhaena, there is a softness to you, a grace that makes his breath catch in his throat.

"Do you remember the first time we flew together?" Baela’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. She grins at you, her violet eyes bright with the memory.

"Of course," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. "I thought Jace would never let me ride my own dragon, he was so worried."

Jace feels a pang at your words, both pride and regret mingling in his chest. He had always been overly cautious with you, more so than with Luke or Joffrey. Perhaps he had always known, even then, that his feelings for you were not entirely brotherly.

Rhaena giggles, leaning in closer to you. "He’s always been that way, hasn’t he? Always the protector, always looking after you."

You shrug, though the warmth in your eyes betrays your affection. "He cares. That’s just how he is."

Jace clenches his fists at his sides, torn between the pride that swells in him at your words and the guilt that gnaws at him for the thoughts he cannot seem to banish. He knows it is wrong—this desire that burns in him like dragonfire—but it is also undeniably a part of him, a flame that refuses to be extinguished.

Take what is yours. The words echo in his mind, a voice that is both his own and something darker, something ancient. The blood of the dragon runs hot in his veins, urging him to act, to claim what he believes is his by right. You are his sister, yes, but you are also so much more. You are the embodiment of everything he has ever wanted, ever desired.

You turn then, as if sensing his gaze, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, the world seems to stop. The laughter of Baela and Rhaena fades into the background, the sound of the waves dulls, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

"Jace," you call out, your voice breaking the spell. "Come join us!"

There is no hesitation in your invitation, no hint that you are aware of the storm raging inside him. You are just his sister, inviting him to share in the simple joy of the evening, oblivious to the battle he fights within.

He forces a smile, masking the turmoil beneath, and steps forward. "I was just enjoying the view," he says, his voice betraying nothing.

Rhaena giggles again, nudging Baela. "See, I told you he’s always watching over her."

Baela laughs, a sound like the tinkling of bells. "It’s because he’s a good brother."

The words cut deeper than they should, a cruel reminder of the line he cannot cross. He wants to be a good brother, he truly does. But the blood of the dragon does not care for such boundaries. The blood of the dragon demands more.

As he approaches, you smile up at him, that same smile that has always had the power to calm him, to soothe the fire within. But today, it only stokes the flames higher.

"Are you alright?" you ask softly, your eyes searching his face for something he cannot give.

He nods, the lie slipping easily from his lips. "Of course. Just… thinking."

You raise an eyebrow, a knowing look passing over your face. "You think too much, Jace. You always have."

He laughs, though it is a strained sound. "Someone has to, with you lot always running headlong into trouble."

Baela snorts. "As if you don’t love it."

He shrugs, unable to deny it. "Perhaps."

You laugh then, a sound so pure and unburdened that it twists something deep in his chest. How can you be so carefree, so unaware of the darkness that haunts him?

The conversation drifts to other things—plans for the next dragonride, the latest antics of your younger brothers—but Jace finds it hard to focus. His eyes keep returning to you, to the way the setting sun catches in your hair, to the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. Every moment is a battle, every word a reminder of what he can never have.

Take what is yours. The voice whispers again, insistent, relentless.

He pushes it down, burying it beneath layers of duty, of honor, of love for his family. But it is there, always there, a part of him that he can never truly silence.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and gold, you turn to him once more, your expression soft, almost tender.

"Thank you, Jace," you say quietly.

He frowns, unsure of what you mean. "For what?"

You smile, and it is a smile that breaks him, because it is so full of warmth, of trust, of love. "For always being there. For always watching over me."

He swallows hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. "Always," he promises, and it is both a vow and a curse.

You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm, and the simple touch sends a shock through him, setting his nerves alight. For a moment, he forgets himself, forgets everything but you.

But then Baela speaks up, her voice pulling him back to reality. "We should head inside. It’s getting late."

You nod, but your eyes linger on his for a moment longer, as if searching for something, something you cannot name.

Jace watches as you turn away, following Baela and Rhaena back into the castle, your laughter fading into the evening air. He stays behind, his heart a tumult of emotion, his mind a battlefield.

He knows what he feels is wrong. He knows that he should push these thoughts away, should bury them deep where they can never see the light of day. But he also knows that the blood of the dragon is not so easily denied.

As the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening sky, Jace makes a silent vow to himself. He will protect you, he will care for you, as a brother should. But he will also fight this desire, this hunger that threatens to consume him. He will not let it destroy him, or you.

But deep down, he knows that it will be difficult.

And as he watches the last light of day fade into night, he wonders if it ever truly will be.

Months have passed since that evening on the terrace, and yet the fire within Jacaerys Velaryon has not dimmed. If anything, it has only grown stronger, a persistent heat that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to consume him at every turn. He has thrown himself into his duties, into training and studies, hoping that the rigor will burn away these unwanted desires. But nothing works. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape the pull you have on him.

Today, he finds himself wandering through the halls of Dragonstone, his mind restless, his heart unsettled. The castle is quiet, the stillness only amplifying his thoughts. His feet carry him to the library, a place he knows you often retreat to when you seek solace or simply a moment of peace. He tells himself it is a coincidence, that he has come here to study, to distract himself with books and knowledge. But deep down, he knows the truth.

As he enters the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink greets him, a familiar comfort. He pauses in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they find you, seated near the window, the light of the midday sun casting a soft glow around you. You are engrossed in a book, your silver-streaked hair falling over your face, your expression serene. The sight of you, so peaceful and unguarded, sends a wave of warmth through him, and before he can stop himself, he is walking towards you.

You look up as he approaches, a smile tugging at your lips. "Jace," you greet him, your voice soft and welcoming. "What brings you here?"

He hesitates, his mind racing for an excuse. "I thought I might find you here," he admits, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. "I wanted to see if you needed any help with your studies."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Since when do you offer to help with my studies?"

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I just thought... we haven't spent much time together lately. I miss it."

Your expression softens at his words, and you close the book in your hands, setting it aside. "I’ve missed it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

He can feel the tension between you, a charged energy that crackles in the air. The pull is stronger now, a magnetic force that draws him closer, and before he knows it, he is sitting beside you, his body instinctively leaning towards yours.

"What are you reading?" he asks, his voice rougher than he intended.

You glance at the book, then back at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "A history of Old Valyria. I’ve always been fascinated by our ancestors, by the dragons and the blood magic they wielded."

"Of course," he murmurs, though he hardly registers the words. He is too focused on the way your hand rests so close to his, the way your eyes seem to shimmer in the light. "Our blood is strong, isn’t it? The blood of the dragon."

You nod, your gaze holding his. "It is. It’s what makes us who we are."

The words resonate deep within him, a reminder of the truth he has tried so hard to ignore. The blood of the dragon is what binds you together, but it is also what drives him to the brink of madness. The fire that burns in his veins is not just a curse, but a part of him, a part of you. And he is no longer sure if he can continue to fight it.

"I wanted to ask you something," you say suddenly, breaking the silence that has settled between you.

He blinks, trying to focus. "What is it?"

You hesitate for a moment, as if gathering your thoughts. "I was wondering if you could help me with my dragon training. Grey Ghost is so much more... spirited than he used to be, and I thought maybe you could help me understand him better."

Jace swallows hard, the thought of spending more time with you, alone and away from prying eyes, sending a thrill through him. But it is also dangerous, more dangerous than anything he has faced before. Still, he finds himself nodding. "Of course. I’d be glad to help."

You smile, a smile that warms him from the inside out, and he knows he is lost. He cannot deny you, cannot deny himself any longer. The pull is too strong, the fire too fierce. And as you rise to your feet, gesturing for him to follow, he feels that pull tighten, like a chain around his heart, binding him to you.

The two of you walk side by side through the corridors of Dragonstone, the silence between you comfortable, yet charged with an unspoken tension. Your presence is a balm to him, calming and yet igniting something deep within, something he can no longer ignore. Every brush of your arm against his, every glance in his direction, fans the flames higher, until he feels as though he might burst from the sheer force of it.

When you reach the courtyard where the dragons are kept, you turn to him, your eyes bright with excitement. "Let’s start with the basics," you say, your voice full of eagerness. "You’ve always been better at this than I am."

Jace shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. "It’s not about being better," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "It’s about understanding them, forming a bond with them."

You nod, your attention fully on him now, and he feels a surge of pride at the trust you place in him. "I know," you say softly. "And I trust you to help me."

The words strike him like a blow, the weight of your trust almost too much to bear. He wants to be worthy of it, to be the brother you believe him to be. But he also wants more, so much more, and it terrifies him.

As you step closer to him, your arm brushing against his, he feels that pull again, stronger than ever. He knows he should move away, put some distance between you, but he cannot bring himself to do it. Instead, he finds himself leaning in, his body drawn to yours like a moth to flame.

"You know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I’ve always felt safest when I’m with you."

The confession catches him off guard, and he looks down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. "Why?"

You smile up at him, a gentle, almost shy smile. "Because you’ve always been there for me, Jace. No matter what."

His breath catches in his throat, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. The pull between you is undeniable now, a force of nature that neither of you can resist. And as you stand there, so close that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, he knows that he is about to cross a line that he can never return from.

But before he can act, before he can make the decision that will change everything, you reach out and take his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. The simple touch sends a jolt of electricity through him, and he is lost, completely and utterly lost.

"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken.

He looks down at you, his heart in his throat, and he knows that this is it. This is the moment he has been dreading, the moment he has been craving. The pull between you is too strong, the fire too fierce, and he knows that there is no going back.

But then, as if sensing the turmoil within him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Thank you," you say, your voice soft and sincere. "For always being there."

And just like that, the moment passes. The tension between you eases, and you step back, releasing his hand. The pull is still there, still strong, but it is no longer overwhelming. For now, it is enough to simply be with you, to feel your presence beside him, to know that you trust him.

As you turn your attention back to the dragons, Jace takes a deep breath, steadying himself. The battle within him is far from over, but for now, he has won a small victory. He has resisted the pull, resisted the fire. But he knows it is only a matter of time before the dragon within him demands more.

And when that time comes, he is not sure if he will be able to resist.

The winds howl around the jagged peaks of Dragonmont, the volcanic heart of Dragonstone. The sky above is dark, thick clouds swirling in ominous patterns, but here, beneath the shelter of the mountain, you and Jacaerys find solace in the company of your dragons. Vermax and Grey Ghost, their massive forms partially obscured by the mist that clings to the rocky terrain, rest quietly nearby, their watchful eyes ever alert.

The air between you and Jace is charged, as it has been for days now. Since the arrival of the Dragonseeds and the beginning of the Red Sowing, there has been an unspoken tension, a shared anxiety that neither of you has fully voiced. Today, it seems, that silence is about to be broken.

Jace paces before you, his brow furrowed, his steps uneven. "I can’t help but worry," he finally says, his voice low, almost a growl. "Mother’s decision to let these Dragonseeds try to claim the dragons… it could destroy everything. The only thing that sets us apart, that makes us legitimate in the eyes of the realm, is our bond with the dragons. What happens if anyone can do it? What happens if they succeed?"

You watch him, feeling the weight of his concern settle over you like a heavy cloak. You understand his fear; it echoes within you as well. "They are Targaryen bastards, Jace," you say softly, trying to find the right words. "The blood of the dragon runs in their veins, even if the world doesn’t see them as we are seen. But you are right to be cautious. We cannot control what might happen if they succeed. But we can control how we respond."

He stops pacing, turning to face you fully. His dark eyes are intense, filled with worry and something deeper, something you’ve seen growing there in recent days. "What if it shatters everything? What if the realm no longer sees us as the rightful heirs? If they can claim dragons, what does that mean for us?"

You rise from your seat on a smooth outcropping of rock, moving closer to him, your steps slow and deliberate. You can feel the warmth of the dragons nearby, the heat from the mountain beneath your feet, but most of all, you feel the heat radiating from Jace, a fire that matches your own.

"We are more than our dragons," you say, your voice steady. "We are the blood of the dragon, yes, but we are also our mother’s children, the heirs of House Targaryen. That will not change, no matter what happens with the Dragonseeds."

Jace’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the storm in his eyes momentarily easing. "You always know what to say," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I’m still afraid. Afraid of what this means for us, for our family."

You reach out, your hand finding his, and the contact sends a spark through you both. "Then we face it together," you say firmly, your fingers tightening around his. "Whatever comes, we face it together, as we always have."

For a moment, there is only silence between you, the kind of silence that speaks louder than words. The dragons are quiet too, their presence a comforting weight in the background. Jace’s thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the simple touch sends a shiver down your spine, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.

Without thinking, you step closer, and suddenly the space between you is gone. You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and unsteady, and the intensity in his eyes is almost too much to bear. The pull between you is stronger than ever, an undeniable force that you can no longer resist.

"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken, something that has been building for so long.

He doesn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both hesitant and eager, as if he is afraid you might pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you kiss him back, your hands moving to cup his face, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks, months, perhaps even years, pouring out in that single moment. It is as if the fire that has always burned between you has finally found release, and there is no stopping it now.Jace’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the desperation in his touch, the need that mirrors your own. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

"So have I," you admit, the words coming out in a breathless rush. "Jace, I—"

He silences you with another kiss, more urgent this time, and you can feel his hands moving to the fastenings of your attire. There is a moment of hesitation, a final chance to turn back, but neither of you takes it. Instead, you help him, your fingers trembling as they work to undo his clothing as well.

The air is cool against your skin as your garments fall away, but you hardly notice. All you can focus on is Jace, on the way his hands move over your body, on the way he looks at you as if you are the only thing that matters in the world. And perhaps, in this moment, you are.

He guides you down onto the warm rock, his movements careful, almost reverent. The heat from the mountain seeps into your skin, mixing with the heat of his touch, and you feel yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.When he finally joins with you, the pain is brief, a sharp sting that quickly fades, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly connected to him. Jace pauses, his eyes searching yours, as if waiting for your permission to continue.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat, but the look in your eyes says everything. "Please," you whisper, and that is all it takes.

He begins to move, slow at first, almost tentative, but as the moments pass, the hesitation fades, replaced by a growing urgency, a passion that neither of you can control. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him on, meeting his every movement with your own.

The world around you fades, the sounds of the dragons, the wind, the distant roar of the sea, all becoming nothing more than a distant echo. There is only Jace, only the fire that burns between you, the flames that consume you both, driving you higher and higher until you feel as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it.

Just as you reach the peak of your union, lost in the sensation of him, you hear a sound, the soft crunch of footsteps on the volcanic rock. Your eyes snap open, and you see him—Ulf the White, one of the Dragonseeds, standing a short distance away, his expression one of surprise and amusement.

Jace’s movements slow as he becomes aware of the intruder, but he doesn’t stop, his body still pressed intimately against yours. His eyes narrow, and you can feel the tension in him, the protective instinct that flares up at the sight of another man watching you in such a vulnerable moment.

Ulf’s smirk widens as he recognizes both of you, his voice carrying an easy confidence as he speaks. "Well, well, what do we have here? Prince Jacaerys and his fair sister, indulging in some… private time, I see."

Jace doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on Ulf, his body shielding yours from view. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, dangerous. "You will leave now, Ulf. And you will speak of this to no one."

Ulf’s amusement doesn’t fade. "And if I don’t? I imagine this little secret could be worth quite a bit."

Jace’s expression hardens, the dragon within him rising to the surface. "I have another proposition for you. Leave now and never speak of this, or tell someone… and Vermax will feast on your bones."

The threat hangs in the air, thick with the promise of violence. Ulf’s smile falters, the realization of Jace’s seriousness sinking in. He glances at the dragons, both Vermax and Grey Ghost now fully alert, their eyes locked on him, and he takes an involuntary step back.

"Fine," Ulf mutters, the bravado gone from his voice. "Your secret’s safe with me, Prince Jacaerys. I was never here." With that, he turns and hurries away, casting one last nervous glance at the dragons before disappearing into the mist.

Jace watches him go, his body still tense, but as the danger passes, his attention shifts back to you, his focus returning to the moment you had both been lost in. The fire that had momentarily cooled begins to burn again, his hands finding yours, his gaze intense.

"I will marry you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "In the traditions of our ancestors, in the ways of Old Valyria. You are mine, and I am yours, for now and forever."

The words send a shiver through you, the weight of them, the promise in them, filling you with a sense of certainty, of belonging. You nod, your voice trembling as you respond. "Yes, Jace. Yes."

And as he moves within you once more, the world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by the fire of your blood.

#house of the dragon #hotd reader insert #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #jacerys velaryon #jace x y/n #jace x you #jace x reader #jacerys x reader #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader

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axeeglitter · 4 months ago

Text

Back from the Vault: Alexa

“What do you mean you forgot your passport?!” asked Simon through his phone.

“I don’t know dude; I was sure I had it but I can’t find it anywhere. Can you go and check in my room if I didn’t put it on my desk or somewhere else, please?”

“Alright, I’m on my way, but dude, really, you have to be more careful!”

Simon and Michael had been roommates for almost four years now. They’d been paired together in their first year of uni, and since they were getting along pretty well and their shared bedroom was small, they decided to look for an apartment together. Things turned out great, and they’ve shared the same apartment since then. When they met, Simon was pretty shy and lacked confidence, but thanks to Michael, he really came out of his shell and found the courage to live fully. He started going to the gym, taking care of himself, and making some friends along the way. He even managed to find someone he found attractive. They just started dating a few weeks ago, and he hoped he would manage to bring his love interest home while Michael was away.

Michael had always been the more outgoing of the two. Always chatting and laughing with everyone, his big dumb smile plastered on his face, letting his perfect white teeth shine and illuminate his face. Sure, Michael wasn’t the brightest student, and even though he preferred working out to spending his evenings studying, he still did everything he could to succeed in his studies and at his part-time job as a bartender. He also managed to have some free time to play video games, practice sports, and, most of all, play with the parameters of his Alexa.

When Michael saw the ad for Alexa’s new features a couple of years ago, he fell in love with the concept. The first thing he did when they both got the apartment was to put Alexa everywhere in the house. Simon was a bit skeptical about this artificial intelligence listening to them all the time, but Michael was so happy. Michael couldn’t stop having fun with his new toy. Alexa turned the volume up, Alexa lit up the kitchen. Alexa added ketchup to the grocery list. As time passed, Simon got used to it and didn’t even realize it was there anymore.

“Ok dude, I’m in your bedroom. Damn, you could have cleaned up a bit; for fuck’s sake, there are dirty underwear and socks everywhere! Gross!”

“Sorry bro, was in a bit of a hurry. I thought my flight was tomorrow, not today! Listen, my passport should be somewhere around my desk. I remember taking it out and putting it on my desk to finish packing. Look around if it’s not there, please.”

“Okay, hold on, putting the speakers on,” Simon said as he clicked on the button to activate it and turned the volume all the way up before placing his phone on the desk.

“You sure you put it there? I can’t find it anywhere, dude!”

“Yes, I am! It must be somewhere around. Take a look on my nightstand,” Michael said, half-listening to what his friend was saying as he was stressed and still searching for it in his backpack.

VOICE DETECTED

“Bro, I can’t find it anywhere. I don’t know where you’ve pu… What the fuck? What was that?” said Simon, not understanding where the voice was coming from. “Dude, did you just say something?” Simon asked again, waiting for an answer.

INTRUDER PROTOCOL ACTIVATED… STARTING INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM

As Simon heard this voice again, he heard a beeping sound coming from Michael’s computer. Suddenly, the screens lit up with a weird-looking graphic. Simon tried to understand what was happening, still asking if this was a prank from Michael. “Dude, can you hear me? I don’t know what you are up to, but it’s not funny. You know what? Fuck you, I’m out of here!” said Simon as he started walking out of the messy bedroom.

“Bro, I know, maybe it’s in the closet!” answered Michael, not listening to what his bro was saying and still looking for it in his suitcase.

All of a sudden, Simon felt something grabbing his right ankle. He tilted his head only to realize his foot was stuck in some kind of cable knot. He smiled a bit, thinking all of this was getting on his nerves, but as a shy laugh escaped his mouth, the knot tightened on its own, and another cable wrapped around Simon’s left ankle. Then they started pulling him. Simon fell on his butt right onto a pile of dirty jockstraps and used socks. The cables resumed their pulling. Simon tried to resist, but it wasn’t working.

“Michael, help!!” he screamed loud and clear, but Michael had put his phone away as he was asking about his passport to his family.

“HELP ME!!” Simon screamed once again as he was dragged across the dirty floor. Then it all stopped. He was not moving anymore. His ankles were still tied to the cables, and as he tried to get back up, he heard a whipping sound and turned his head just in time to see two new cables grab his wrists and tie them up too before spreading them apart, resulting in Simon being held down against his will in the middle of Michael’s dirty bedroom floor.

“Michael, help me!” screamed Simon again, and this time Michael answered just as the voice started talking again.

INTRUDER NEUTRALIZED… WAITING APPROVAL TO START INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM…

“YES!” screamed Michael from afar. “I knew I had packed it!” Michael’s voice got louder as he got his phone back to his ear. “Sorry bro, I’ve found it! My mom was keeping it and didn’t tell me. Sorry! I’ll catch you in a month after my family trip. I’ll grab you something from Disney World, bro. See you!” And with that, Michael hung up on Simon.

MASTER4S VOICE DETECTED… STARTING PROTOCOLS IN 3…2…1…

Simon was terrified. He couldn’t move, and now his only hope, Michael, had just hung up on him. As he realized he would have to find a way to free himself on his own, the cables started to tense again, pulling his limbs a bit more until his legs and arms were outstretched. Now he couldn’t move at all anymore.

STARTING SCANNING AND BACKUP PROTOCOL…

Simon lay there, immobile and jerking as much as he could in the hope of untying one of the knots when he saw a new cable starting to move on its own. It undulated on the floor in Simon’s direction, and as it got near his head, it floated in the air above him. There it stood just long enough for Simon to see it. It was different from the ones holding him down. This one had a device plugged into it, looking like something used for scanning. As Simon thought about that, the device turned itself on and illuminated Simon’s body in a blue hue, going from the tip of his feet to his head. As it scanned along, Simon saw a weird blue holographic square pattern projected onto him.

“What the fuck is all of this?” thought Simon as the device finished its work.

INTRUDER SCAN FINISHED… SAVING OF THE DATA… DATA SAVED… RESUMING PROTOCOL…

Simon heard again. Suddenly, the scanning device lit up again, but this time it was not a blue light. This time it was red. It started scanning all over his body again, but Simon felt like something was heating all around him. As he felt this weird but not painful sensation, he realized he was feeling something on his right ankle. He lifted his head only to see that wherever the red light touched, his clothes were disintegrating. His socks and brand-new Air Forces were already gone, and now he watched as his favorite pair of jeans was getting destroyed right in front of his eyes. Simon screamed and moved as much as he could in every direction, hoping to stop all of this, but it was not working. Worse, the voice started again.

INTRUDER NOT STANDING STILL, SPEEDING UP PROCESS BY 50%

Simon watched in fear as he felt his whole body getting naked faster. With the blink of an eye, Simon was standing there, tied up and naked on the floor. “Please, make it stop. I’m Michael’s roommate. I’m not an intruder. I live here!” Simon tried to talk with Alexa, but the only response he heard froze him in terror.

VOICEPRINT INCORRECT… RESUMING PROTOCOL IN 3…2…1…

As he heard those words, he saw new cables flying from every corner of the room. They were like snakes ready to strike, and the only thing he could do as he saw them freezing in place waiting for orders was close his eyes as tears built up on his cheeks.

Suddenly, all the cables jumped onto his body. He felt them plugging into his biceps, forearms, pecs, abs, and legs. He even felt some getting plugged into his fingers and soles. Simon was in excruciating pain. It felt like he was being stabbed all over his body at once. Just as he was about to faint, he heard the voice again.

MODIFICATION PROCESS STARTING IN 3…2…1…

Simon felt all the cables attached to him vibrating harder and harder. It was like his whole body was being shaken. His nerves were on fire, and he felt like he was about to be torn apart. Tears of pain streamed down his cheeks as he suddenly felt an electric shock inside his body. He was in such pain that he couldn’t even turn his head to see what was happening to him.

Just before Michael left for his family vacation, he received a notification on his Amazon account about a new version of Alexa. Being Michael, he jumped on the opportunity and upgraded it right away, without paying much attention to the modifications. The only new feature he was interested in was the “Intruder Protection Program” and its assimilation feature. “Cool,” he thought, “Just before leaving for a month, this new version is released. What perfect timing!”

Once the download was done, Alexa needed information to register who was welcome and who was considered an intruder. Michael did so and, just as he finished entering his information and was about to input Simon’s details, Alexa reminded him that his flight was leaving in 4 hours. Surprised, Michael jumped out of his desk, packed as much as he could into his backpack and suitcase, and rushed to meet his family at the airport, not realizing he never entered Simon’s information into Alexa’s database.

Simon lay frozen in pain on the dirty floor as he felt his bones cracking and compressing. He heard cracking everywhere, and at some point, he thought maybe all of this was a nightmare and he was about to wake up. But what jolted him from this thought was the excruciating pain in his feet. Simon felt his size 39 feet starting to grow longer until they were now a size 45 and a half. The pain was awful. He fell as his toes elongated and became more articulated. It felt like he had more movement in them than before. Then the same happened with his hands, and it was too much for Simon’s pain tolerance. As he fainted from the pain, the changes didn’t stop. Once the bones were modified, Simon’s muscles were next.

All his muscles entered a vibration state. They grew larger and larger until his previous slim, athletic frame was replaced by that of a gym god. His muscles bulged in every direction. Once the muscles were done, the vibration moved to his head. His nose was the first to break into pieces before being remolded into a larger, less slim version. Then the same happened with his chin and brows. Once the bones were done, the muscles in his face also started to vibrate, resulting in a more angular, jockish face.

Then the scanning device came back to life and started scanning Simon’s fainted body with a green light. Every inch of skin touched by the light tanned to a healthy golden shade. Once done, the device turned a yellow light and focused on specific zones: the legs, armpits, head, chest, and most importantly, the pubic area. There, it started to light up and remained immobile on the skin until a certain number of hairs had sprouted. This resulted in Simon’s body having slightly hairy legs, chest and an imberb face (except for hair and brows), hairy armpits, and, most notably, curly brown pubes.

When all the hair had been scanned, the device focused back on Simon’s head and his eyes. This time, the device emitted a purple hue. Unbeknownst to Simon, his blue-gray eyes started to change until they were a warm brown color. The scanning device turned off and fell next to Simon’s head, only to be replaced by another cable with a peculiar apparatus at its end. It looked like a tube.

The cable started to undulate toward Simon’s crotch and then, out of nowhere, jumped onto his 5-inch cock and grape-sized balls. Alexa spoke again.

LOADING BACKED UP DATA…

The device began to suck harder and harder, and suddenly, Simon’s cut cock started to grow and harden. It grew bigger and bigger inside the tube until it was now an 8.5-inch uncut cock with huge testicles.

GENITALS MODIFIED…

The device detached itself and fell just between Simon’s legs. Simon’s body remained immobile for a couple of seconds before he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was two huge pecs in front of his sight. He screamed and turned his head to the right and left, watching as his arms had also become huge.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he screamed, but the only response he got was another notification from Alexa.

BODY MODIFICATION PROTOCOL COMPLETE… STARTING THE ASSIMILATION PROTOCOL IN 3… 2… 1…

Simon watched in fear as a new cable appeared in his sight. This one looked similar to the others that had plugged into his body, but it stood right between his eyes. That’s when he understood what Alexa had just said.

“No, Alexa, stop! STOOOO…”

The cable jumped into the middle of Simon’s eyes and plugged itself directly into his brain. For Simon, it felt like a switch had been turned off. He was still feeling everything but couldn’t move anymore. It was like he was no longer there, and for a moment, he thought he might have died. Then he heard Alexa’s voice again, but this time it was clearer and louder, as if it were directly in his brain.

SAVING AND DUPLICATING INTRUDER’S INFORMATION

Simon felt like something was off. It felt like he was being scanned deeply, and then suddenly, he felt himself falling into darkness. It was like falling into an endless pit of obscurity, and he couldn’t grab onto anything to stop his fall.

INTRUDER’S INFORMATION SCANNED AND SAVED… STARTING ASSIMILATION…

Simon stood in darkness, hearing Alexa’s voice but unable to move or react. He was frozen in time and floating in a dark place. Suddenly, right in front of him, he saw a bright, intense, and warming light. From all around, he saw movie clips floating toward it, merging together, making it grow bigger and stronger. Simon was forced to watch these clips until one caught his attention. It was a memory of himself and Michael playing Mario Kart. Simon remembered this night perfectly because it was when he realized Michael was a true friend, and he was happy and thankful to have him in his life. But it was strange because in his memories, he was on the right side of the sofa, not the left. It was as if the memory was mirrored. That’s when he realized.

“Wait, why am I watching myself playing Mario Kart in this clip? I should be looking at Michael, not myself!”

Simon panicked and tried to find another clip, only to see once again himself in front of his eyes, not Michael. Now he understood. Simon was not looking at his memories but Michael’s.

“ALEXA, STOP, PLEASE!” Simon screamed, but nothing happened. Instead, more and more movie clips merged in front of his eyes until the last one was Michael downloading the new version of Alexa called “Intruder Protection Program” in his room. Simon screamed as loud as he could, only to be cut short by Alexa once again.

ASSIMILATION DONE…

In the outside world, all the cables unplugged themselves and unknotted from Simon’s ankles and wrists.

Simon’s body lay sweaty and naked on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before Alexa spoke once more.

INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM TERMINATED… CAN I DO SOMETHING FOR YOU, MICHAEL?

Michael opened his eyes, and Simon watched, trapped inside his own brain, as his body betrayed him. He felt everything but couldn’t move anymore. He felt his body starting to blink before opening his mouth and speaking in a deeper voice, mimicking Michael’s.

“Nah bro! I’m good. Thanks, Alexa!”

With that, Michael’s body began to get up and realized he was naked. Worse, he was getting excited watching himself in the mirror.

“Well, guess I have to take care of you,” he said, gripping his huge veined cock before spitting on it and starting to pleasure himself.

Simon was in hell. He felt everything and couldn’t do anything to stop his body and this new Michael personality. Then he felt his body tense up and prepare to explode. He grabbed one of the dirty underwear on the floor, smelled it, laughed a bit, and said “Noice” before finishing himself in it. He then sat on the bed, the dirty jockstrap still stuck between his calloused hand and his hard cock.

The new Michael closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

TIME TO WAKE UP, MASTER, IT’S 8 AM, YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE…

Michael woke up with his dick still tucked inside the crusty jockstrap. He got up, looked at the time, and thanked Alexa. He looked around his bedroom to see what he was about to wear and only after 2 minutes of running naked did he realize he still had the jockstrap stuck to his cock. He laughed and grabbed it before putting it on. He then jumped into cargo sports shorts and a pair of well-used Nike socks before putting grabbing a red and white tank top under his arm and his favorite necklace.

As Michael left his bedroom, he screamed through the house.

“Simon bro, gonna be late, I’ll see you tonight!”

Before leaving, he never realized that Simon was, in fact, stuck in his own head, screaming for this nightmare to stop and for him to be freed.

As Michael closed the door and jumped into his car, Alexa started again.

MICHAEL OUT OF HOUSE… STARTING INTRUDER PROTECTION PROGRAM…

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

Hey guys, here is the first story I've retrieved from my vault. You may have already read this one a couple of months ago, but unfortunately, it got lost over time. So, I decided to post it again after refining it a bit and adding new pictures kindly created by @tf-vigilante for this story. As always, let me know what you think of it, and feel free to leave a like, share, or send me a message if you want to talk about this story or anything else :)

Let me know if you’d like to see a continuation of this story, as I have plans for Michael, Simon, and Alexa.

If you have any ideas or plots you'd like to discuss, feel free to send me an ask or a DM ;)

In the meantime, take care, and see you soon for more stories resurrected from my vault!

#male transformation #my writing #personality change #straight to gay #mental change #reality change #Alexa #digitized #machine tf #gay #Transformation story #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk #unwilling tf

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holysupesbatman · 5 months ago

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SuperBat Fic Recs

Woaaaah boy. I was in the Superbat tag and saw someone asking for recs and I got about 5 fics in before I realized that wouldn't fit in a reply and decided I should just make a whole post. I feel like I've read half of the Bruce/Clark tag on ao3 at this point and yet I still find more every time I look.

As a note, this post is heavily editorialized. These are all fics I've personally read and are here because I liked them and they come from my ao3 bookmarks. If you want better details about the fic, follow the links and check them out 🤷‍♀️ I'm a picky reader so the fact that it's on the list says a lot, though our tastes may vary.

Onto the recs! I'll organize them by ratings and then by length for simplicity and at the end I'll recommend some of my favorite SuperBat authors for further reading!

🦇

Rated: G

Uno Reverse by WixenBurr (~7k rated G) is really cute and fluffy

Summary: The batkids are trying to set Batman and Superman up. Unfortunately Bruce Wayne wants to date some rando news reporter named Clark Kent.

Rated: T

Know You Better by rotasha (~6k rated T)

super fluffy and cute. I adore this fic. Summary: Clark asks Bruce on a date, not knowing he’s a famous billionaire. Bruce says yes, because this is the first time this has ever happened to him.

I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173 (~13k rated T)

This one is SO much fun – Nobody believes Clark after he meets the supposed "flirty, stupid, entitled drunk" playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne when he says he's actually "clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive."

Saudade by liodain (~20k rated T)

OK THIS ONE MAKES MY HEART MELT IT'S SO FLUFFY AND SWEET I CAN'T. Like put this on your re-read when you're sad and need to feel like love and goodness exist list. Bruce breaks down in Kansas in 2006 years before BvS and meets young Clark.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (~23k rated T)

It's just 20k of Clark simping for Bruce. That's it. That's the fic. He's a golden retriever and he's in love, Your Honor. Bruce is not unaffected, but the pining is glorious.

summary: Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

Mr. Romantic by Pandamomochan (~24k rated T)

ft Established Relationship SuperBat. Summary: Clark gets tasked to write a Valentine's Day article. The end result has every single women throwing themselves at him. Clark has always been patient with the drove of Brucie fans. Will Bruce be as mature with Clark's sudden popularity?

How to Date a Superhero by @solomonara (~25k rated T)

Technically a series of fics. Pure fluff. 1. Someone spots the Batman kissing Mild Mannered Reporter Clark Kent. Hijinks ensue. 2. Superman kissed Bruce Wayne in full view of several dozen phones. Now the whole world, including Lex Luthor, knows Superman has a boyfriend. But that's okay. Batman has a plan. 3. Deleted scenes from the How to Date a Superhero series, ruthlessly cut in most cases to prevent the Robins from taking over.

In every sense of the word by froggy-o (bobafiend) (~29k rated T) From the author's summary: Alternatively titled "Why Wonder Woman is on the verge of losing her fucking mind."

I swear this fic is just Diana's eyebrow twitching as she watches Bruce and Clark start dating and she's let in on both their civilian identities meanwhile Superman and Batman are on the watchtower arguing and disagreeing about basically everything on the daily. In the name of Justice, of course. The identity porn is on a whole other level and it was done so well.

Get Over It by rotasha (~32k rated T)

heh this one has plenty of identity hijinks. Sooooo funny. Summary: Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish (~96k rated T)

hehehe... the batkids set up a dating profile for Bruce and catfish Clark. It's more of a blind date for Bruce (not that he had any idea he was going on a date at all), but who has Clark been texting for the past several weeks??? Oh yeah. The kids. What follows is as follows. Still with capes!

Rated: M

Guardian Dog by BombusBombus (~22k rated M)

Summary: There's something wrong with Clark Kent. He has to be a villain, right? A threat? He doesn't behave like a normal person, no matter how handsome or clever he may seem.

grasp his heart (once and for all) by liodain (~32k rated M) soulmate AU fic. Pretty emotional LOTS of identity issues going on there like so much. Kinda high on the drama and angst there honestly but it was a cute read. Summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in fate.

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (~33k rated M)

love me a fake dating AU. Summary: It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Strangers When We Meet by Trista_zevkia (~63k rated M)

ANOTHER soulmate AU! This time feat. Kryptonian Biology hehehe. Summary: Clark Kent thought he was straight, until Batman kick started something. The question is what did Batman start? Is Brucie Wayne able to explain it to him?

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat (~77k rated M)

OK NO LISTEN this is one of my all-time favorite fics EVER. It's so meta and so funny. Clark is us. We are Clark. Clark is writing RPF for the Bruce/Batman ship and he's very convinced it's real EVEN THOUGH he has a huge crush on the Batman... let the hijinks BEGIN.

Rated: E

Embracing Destiny by Mithen (~8k rated E)

This one is just really really cute. Summary: As a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st century, a teenaged Clark learns a stunning secret about his own future: he and someone called "Batman" will be legendary lovers.

perfect strangers by susiecarter (~15k rated E)

like. bruh. susie did it again. This tag says it all: communication failure. I love this one though. Summary: Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping.

Relinquishing Control by foxyk (~25k rated E)

afsfwsdfhishdfksj no words. Read the authors summary and then just go read the fic:

Superman worries that if he lets go he'll injure his partner. Batman knows better. Batman worries that if he lets someone else in, he'll hurt them. Superman knows better.

Picture Perfect by TheSaltiestDog @the-saltiest-dog (~26k rated E)

this one is cute and then horny on main but also just so fluffy. Clark sees Bruce in a new light through candid shots, then proceeds to take lots of candid shots as they begin a relationship. Cue schmoop, fluff, smut, and – you guessed it! –Miscommunication!

A Night Off and sequel A Day Off by Mawiiish (~37k combined; first part is E, second is T)

One of my all-time favorites. My bookmark says 10/10 would read again soooooooo... 👀🤷‍♀️😅🥵

Bruce is enjoying one of his few nights off when a very persistent young man offers to buy him a drink. At first he's apprehensive; he's just here for a good time and this Clark seems to be looking for more than that. Then again, what harm can one drink do?

Clark wakes up to an empty bed and despite Bruce being honest from the start, he's still disappointed.

The Downsides to a Secret Identity by liodain (~42k rated E)

I'm currently reading this one – the summary from the author says it all, it's so good but sooo drama:

Bruce Wayne has taken a shine to Clark Kent, but Clark is more interested in the Bat of Gotham. The Bat, however, has it in for the Superman in a big way. Clark should probably have considered that before falling quite so hard. They're working together to track down some missing Kryptonian weaponry, after all...

50 Shades of Wayne by susiecarter (~161k rated E)

No but listen, this is actually so full of plot and emotional depth and not as much smut as you might think. It's a full-scale retelling of Batman v Superman but without them knowing each other's secret identities. I read it in one go... the reveal? Maybe the best I've ever read. Soooo many emotions. It's one of the few times I've read BDSM in a fic and it actually felt in character. I wasn't sure I would read it when I started, but it was a compelling read and extremely well done. Honestly, I'd read it again.

SuperBat Author Shoutouts:

susiecarter @susiecarter

liodain @liodain

Resacon1990 @sassyresacon1990

shipyrds @burins

Mawiiish @superbattrash

rotasha

Mithen

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embrosegraves · 6 months ago

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𝔹𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝔾𝕠𝕥 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Adding two more GPs to his list of home races, Oscar realises that he's A-OK with having half his bags packed with things that aren't his.

Warnings: My usuals i.e. swearing, bad grammar and the like.

series masterlist | previous part | next part

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AustrianGP

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yn.horner has posted on their story!

liked by yn.horner, redbullracing and others

oscarpiastri The kinda shit I get sent by my gf 🫠🫠

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user5142 And I can't even get a text back 😓🙃

user6672 @ whoever your gf is: HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM

yn.horner She has amazing taste in memes omg -> oscarpiastri Doesn't she just?

redbullracing Let Admin meet your gf challenge? 👀👀 -> user8873 NOT EVEN ADMIN KNOWS? -> redbullracing shhhhhh I'm tryna be nosyyyy -> oscarpiastri excuse me? -> redbullracing UUHH you saw nothing!!

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redbullracing POV: Admin trying to get oscarpiastri and maxverstappen1 to be in the SAME FRIGIN PIC WHEN THEIR NOT IN RACE SUITS

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user9543 Admin has reached their limit omg noo 😭😭

user2465 God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers -> redbullracing I am NOT his strongest soldier I assure you

AlpineF1 Girl it's the worst 😭😭 Like just GET ALONG PLEASE -> redbullracing RIGHT???

scuderiaferrari we struggle with the opposite, C2 never want to wear the suits together -> redbullracing Girl I wish that was what I struggled with

McLarenF1 Honestlyyyyy it's like Lando and Pato are just never around each other 😩😩😩

maxverstappen1 Okay but do you realise how comfy the suits are? -> oscarpiastri genuinely, I think I'd sleep in it if I could. -> redbullracing do not oscarpiastri

user1442 its the way RBR Admin replied to all the teams (including Max and Osc) but ghosted McL*ren 🤭🤭 -> user5778 after today's race?? I don't fucking blame em

BritishGP

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liked by Mercedes-AMG, scuderiaferrari and others

redbullracing Have these pictures I guess.... (Yes the first one is a podium pic from Austria let's not talk about it, k thx)

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oscarpiastri much enthusiasm. very wow. -> redbullracing you owe Admin a titty pic cuz I said so.

user5142 Admin really wasn't joking, they are always in the suits together -> redbullracing It's a whole thing. I'm convinced they do it because it annoys me 😒😒

maxverstappen1 You realise Sebastian like, /doesn't/ race anymore?? -> redbullracing who? -> maxverstappen1 Sebastian Vettel?? the guy in the last pic?? -> redbullracing No who asked? -> maxverstappen1 .....i can't believe i fell for that....

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TAGLIST (closed)(i really hope this works better) :

@barnestatic @fionaschicken @fanficweasley @sltwins @storminacloud

@halleest @formulaal @ems-alexandra @iloveyou3000morgan @christianpulisic10

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@cherry-piee @starssfall @33-81 @jpg3 @marie0v

@d3kstar @applopie @aquangxl @eugene-emt-roe @woozarts

@scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @1-800-simpingcowbaby @marshmummy @landossainz

@alwaysboredsworld @mellowarcadefun @dannyleclerc @lozzamez3 @spookystichery

@scarletwidow3000 @moldyshorts1997 @hiireadstuff @bearyyyy @evie-119

@hwalllllllelujah @nixily @generalnav @hdigditditdjgd @kgliie

@lokideservesahug @littlegrapejuice @halfdeadsage @zzzhealy @illicitverstappen

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hyperfixation-fix · 8 months ago

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Just a reminder as we're all becoming continuing to be feral for season 2 of PJO

They're kids.

And as much as I love all the "omg he's totally Percy!!", just remember that he's not. They're actors. They're doing a phenomenal job and we're really lucky to have them as a fandom, but... remember that they've signed up for a big job at a very young age. It's our duty as a fandom (especially a fandom with a lot of adults in it) to protect them, make sure that they are being respected, and (APPROPRIATELY) call out inappropriate and/or disrespectful behaviour when we see it. If anyone needs it, I've put some examples below the cut.

✅Appropriate ✅

"Walker is such an incredible Percy!!!" "Leah does such a great job portraying Annabeth!!!!" "Their dynamic is amazing!!!"

"I don't like the way Walker plays Percy - I always saw him as XYZ." "I don't like Lea as Annabeth. It's just not how I saw her." (borderline. consider why you can't see Annabeth as anything except white. but if you're being polite, I'll give you a grudging pass)

Fully clothed/non-sexual fanart of the actors (in or out of character) (romantic is okay)

Posting/reposting consenting photos, (respectful) edits, etc of the actors in or out of character

Discussing details of their personal lives that the actors have chosen to share with the public (but don't make it weird, ok?)

❌Inappropriate❌

"Walker and Leah need to date irl, they have so much chemistry!!" uh. no. You're seeing *acting*. Leave their personal lives out of it

"Annabeth being played by a black actor is ridiculous, wokeness is getting out of control" or any variation upon that sentiment. Honestly just fuck off. Also (and yes this is a sub tweet) recolouring fanart that depicts Annabeth as black? Absolutely not. If you absolutely have to, go do your own fucking artwork like a normal human being instead of a racist POS.

Raunchy/suggestive/sexual fanart of the actors (in or out of character). Nope. They are children. Stop it. Don't care if you're "aging them up". Imagine how that feels for them.

Posting/reposting photos where the actors aren't/don't seem to be consenting to the photo

Speculating on or pressuring the actors to reveal ANY DETAILS about their private lives. This includes, but is far from limited to: their contact details/locations, their sexuality, their relationships, their diagnoses, their politics (they're still really young... idk about you guys but my political opinions were hot garbage at 16. they get a (moderate) pass until they're at least 18)

These are obviously non-extensive lists. Please use your brain, and, if in doubt, don't post it.

Also, if you see inappropriate behaviour, please don't be an idiot about it. First course of action should always be politely talking to the person in private. After that, yes, it may be appropriate to start publicly calling them out. Having said that, remember that teens can be dumb (speaking from lived experience...), so let's give them some grace. Ignoring, reporting, blocking, and not engaging is sometimes the best thing you can do for dumbasses, especially if they're attention-seeking.

I love you all and I have complete faith that we, as a fandom, can rally and make sure the cast knows that they are loved and respected.

#pjo #riordanverse #percy jackson #rick riordan #my posts #fandom #pjo tv #pjo tv show #percabeth #annabeth chase #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #myposts

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gothcsz · 23 days ago

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part ten of the neighbors series. i hope everyone who has been reading so far enjoys this chapter, because i definitely shed a tear or two during the writing process. one of the more difficult things i've had to write because that writer's block hit me good and hard multiple times throughout this, but i am pretty proud of what came out of it! mwah, love you all... please come cry about this with me ok thank u 🖤 oh and a big big big thank you to @persephone-girl for always being there for me when i'm ranting about how i don't know what the hell i'm doing and for reading over the parts i was struggling with. ¡te amo, cleo!

javier peña x f!reader. ~10k word count. (oops) the angst we've all come to know and love, canon typical violence (please proceed with caution), feelings are confessed, anything procedural that occurs comes from the small knowledge i have and just pure vibes (let's suspend our belief real quick), translated spanish, mateo is a piece of shit, reader is going through it, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

The sharp buzzing of your pager against the kitchen table jolts you out of your book. You frown, sliding a ribbon into place to mark your page before rising to see who’s paging you this late.

Mateo glances over from his spot on the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches you. “¿Quién te llama tan tarde?” (Who is calling you so late?)

“No se,” (I don’t know) you pluck the device from the table and squint at the screen. A number you don’t recognize flashes, accompanied by the name of a local hospital.

You blink in confusion, picking up the landline and dialing the number, tapping your fingers against the countertop as you wait.

A brisk receptionist answers, eventually redirecting you to someone who can actually help you in English.

Your Spanish is good but not that good.

“Javier Peña is here and you’re listed as one of his emergency contacts.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and your grip tightens on the receiver. “Is he okay? What happened?” Your mind races through a dozen worst-case scenarios.

“He’s alright,” the nurse assures you, “Much less intoxicated than when he was brought in. He was involved in an… altercation at a bar. We need someone to sign his discharge papers before he can leave.”

The knot of anxiety loosens slightly, but in its place comes a flare of exasperation. Of course. A bar fight? You rub at your eyebrow, closing your eyes.

You’ve done everything possible to create distance between you and this man, and still, somehow, he finds a way to pull you back in.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

You snap out of your thoughts and clear your throat. “Yes—sorry. I’ll be there shortly.”

Hanging up, you let out a sharp breath. Why do you keep doing this? Even though you tell yourself you’re just being a good person, there’s a part of you that knows better… that secretly wonders if you’re glad for an excuse to see him again.

You straighten up and head back to the living room where Mateo is lounging, and his eyes shift to you expectantly.

“¿Quién fue?” (Who was it?)

“The hospital downtown. Javier’s been injured and I need to go help him.” You move around the room, grabbing your things.

You feel the shift in the air when he mutes the television and stands, his brows furrowing. “Javier? Your neighbor? The one who nearly ruined our first date?”

You pause, bending to put on your shoes, catching the sharp edge in his tone.

“Yeah,” you admit, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m listed as one of his emergency contacts, so…”

His body language shifts into something more rigid. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“My girlfriend is being called out in the middle of the night to pick up some malparido who’s clearly into her. That’s what I mean.”

The snort that escapes you is involuntary. “You’re being ridiculous. We’re just friends.” Barely that anymore, you think. That word feels like a fragile label for whatever exists—or existed—between you and him. But Mateo doesn’t need to know the messy, complicated details.

You’ve deliberately kept it that way to avoid exactly what’s happening now.

“Friends,” he repeats, the word heavy with doubt. “No me gusta.” (I don’t like it)

“It’s a good thing I don’t need your permission.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“You don’t see how strange this is?”

You let out a breath, straightening your posture as you meet his gaze. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mateo. All I have to do is sign his discharge papers and call him a cab home. That’s it.”

“It’s not your responsibility. He’s not your responsibility.”

You blink at him, taken aback slightly. He’s always been steady, easygoing, and this possessive edge is new—unwelcome. Jealousy, you realize. You understand it to a degree, but it makes you wary.

“I know that—”

“You don’t see me playing knight-in-shining-armor for some random woman I barely talk to anymore.”

“Javier is not just some random guy—” You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh, hating how defensive you sound, feeling uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has made.

Mateo’s expression darkens, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he mutters bitterly. “He’s not some random guy. Y ese es el problema ¿no?” (And that’s the problem, isn’t it?)

You can feel the heat rising in your face, a mix of anger and guilt twisting in your gut. “We’re just friends.” You reiterate, trying to sound as resolute as possible. “You can believe that or not, but it’s the truth,” you retort, ending your side of this argument before grabbing your bag from the entryway table.

“Are you coming or not?” you ask without looking back.

There’s a long, agonizing pause that makes your heart pound in your ears. For a moment, you think he might refuse, that he might dig his heels in and escalate this further. But then he just sighs, shuffling to gather his own things.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

The nurse ushers you through a brightly lit hallway and into a larger room lined with hospital beds, each one partially hidden by flimsy curtains that do little to offer privacy. At the very end, you spot Javier.

He’s perched on the edge of a bed, his broad shoulders slumped forward. His arm is wrapped in gauze, a deep gash on his eyebrow held together with fresh stitches. His lip is swollen and split, a constellation of bruises littering his face, one eye swollen shut.

He looks like he’s been through hell.

“Javier, oh my god!” Your voice comes out squeakier than you intended as you rush toward him. You stop short, your hands hovering awkwardly in the space between you, instinct screaming to pull him into a hug. But the injuries hold you back.

Even with the ache radiating through his body, the sound of your voice and the sight of you standing there softens the edges of his pain, offering a brief, soothing reprieve. He can’t believe you actually came.

“What happened?” You ask, your voice cracking with worry despite your efforts to keep it even.

Javier looks up at you, his gaze glassy but warm, a tired smirk tugging at the corner of his injured mouth. “Guys talkin’ shit at the bar,” he mutters, his voice raspy and slightly slurred. “I’m fine.”

He doesn’t mention how he courted the violence, drunk and bitter, until it exploded into a fight he couldn’t win. Three guys dragged him outside, taking turns landing blows.

The shameful truth is, he relished the pain. It was sharp, tangible—more real than the numbness he’d been drowning in with booze and meaningless sex.

It was a culmination of all the bad decisions, every scar his job had etched into his soul, and the emptiness he couldn’t seem to escape.

“You are not fine, Javier,” you snap, your frustration spilling over as you gesture to the mess of bruises and bandages covering him. “You got the shit beat out of you.”

That earns you a low chuckle, though it quickly morphs into a wince as he presses his uninjured hand lightly to his ribs. “Always so dramatic,” he teases, his gaze sweeping over you. “You look good.”

Your cheeks warm despite yourself. How he’s able to be a flirtatious bastard all the time is lost on you. You cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” He grins wider, which only makes him wince again. “That’s why I’m laughing.”

You let out a sharp breath, your emotions roiling—frustration, worry, and relief that he’s fine.

“I handled everything up front,” you say firmly, needing to regain control. “We just need to go outside and wait for your cab.”

Javier’s expression falters, his brows pulling together. “You’re not coming back home with me?”

The casual way he says it makes your stomach flip. You bite the inside of your cheek, choosing your next words carefully. “I’m going home with Mateo. He drove me here.”

For a moment, Javier is quiet. Too quiet. You watch as his body stiffens, his bruised jaw clenching tightly.

“He’s here?”

“Yes,” you reply as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, dropping your arms to your sides. “He’s waiting in the lobby.”

Javier swears he’s never sobered up so fast.

The urge to tear through the room rises, and he almost gives in to the intrusive thoughts, but instead, he tamps it down, the only outward sign being the sharp scowl twisting his swollen, beaten features.

“Couldn’t leave him at home?”

“Excuse me?” Your brows shoot up.

“I don’t need an audience for this.”

“An audience? He’s my boyfriend, Javier. Of course he’s here. This isn’t even about him,” you’re feeling déjà vu from your argument earlier.

No one really prepares you for how dramatic relationships can be.

“This is about you—about you acting out and dragging me into it. You show up at my place drunk, claiming you miss me after ditching me for months, fall asleep at my door like I’m some kind of lifeline for you. You pull me in so many different directions, and it’s exhausting.”

Javier’s mouth opens like he’s about to fire back, but then he deflates. The irritation in his eyes dims, replaced by something that looks a lot like regret.

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes, looking away from him, partially relieved that Mateo wasn’t allowed back here, or this confrontation would have spiraled into something much uglier.

“Try by being sincere. Every time you apologize it feels like you’re only doing it to save your own ass.”

“Because I was. For the longest time.” He admits, gingerly slipping off the bed, slowly walking over to you and you swallow harshly as the distance between you decreases. “Then I realized how much I took you for granted and I’ve been falling apart since.”

Why does he have to make everything so complicated? Why does the apology you’ve craved for months suddenly feel like the hardest thing you’ve had to hear?

You cross your arms over your chest again, trying to create some kind of barrier between you and the honesty radiating off him. You don’t even know what to say.

Javier inches closer, his voice softening further. “I’m sorry for treatin’ you like shit and for being a terrible friend. I just... I need you to know that I really mean that, and I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you… if that’s something you even want from me anymore.”

You look at him then, really look at him—the bruises, the stitches, the exhaustion lining his face. There’s no wall of deflection in his eyes this time, no trace of the usual excuses he uses like armor. Just unguarded sincerity.

You rub your temple, trying to soothe the headache forming.

“I appreciate your apology,” you finally manage to find your voice. “And that you recognize what you’ve done wrong. But it’s going to take more than just words to fix this.”

The admission feels dangerous, like opening a door you’re not sure you’ll be able to close.

Is it even a good idea to let him try to fix this? The memory of the argument earlier replays in your mind, and you know without a doubt there will be more fights like it if you allow Javier back into your life.

Mateo made his feelings about him abundantly clear.

But beyond your boyfriend’s disapproval—and that glaring red flag of jealousy you haven’t entirely processed yet—there’s the deeper question: can you handle this? Can you handle being just friends with Javier? The last time you tried, it nearly destroyed you.

And if he does follow through? If he becomes the person you’ve wanted him to be this entire time? That might be worse, because you don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your feelings in check.

The storm of thoughts threatens to overwhelm you, so you silence them, focusing instead on the immediate task: getting him home safely.

Javier’s expression softens at your words. Relief flickers in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable. “I know. I’ll be better.”

You let out a heavy sigh, toying with the pendant around your neck as you try to ground yourself. “Come on,” you say after a beat, resigned. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He follows you out of the room, each step betraying just how much pain he’s in.

When you step into the waiting room, Mateo is standing by the entrance, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His dark eyes sweep over Javier, taking in the full extent of his injuries, before landing on you.

There’s no mistaking the irritation simmering beneath his calm facade.

Javier straightens despite the visible discomfort it causes him, his sore muscles screaming at him. His dark gaze meets Mateo’s, and for a moment, the two men size each other up.

You can practically hear the things they’re not saying. Mateo’s scorn is written all over his face—This is the guy? The one who’s causing all this bullshit? And Javier’s defiance is just as clear—Yeah, I’m the guy. What are you going to do about it?

“Mateo,” you say, your voice cutting through the charged silence, “this is Javier.”

“I remember.” Mateo’s tone is clipped, his eyes narrowing slightly as they linger on Javier’s injuries. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s wait for the cab outside.” You quickly add, anything to keep these two and their manly, dick measuring competition at bay.

As you lead the way, the two men follow like a shadow, heavy and unavoidable, their stares burning into your back.

“Oh—I forgot to grab your meds. Wait here,” you quickly pivot back toward the sliding glass doors before either of them can protest.

The moment you’re out of earshot, Mateo takes a step closer to Javier, his gaze hard and unyielding. “No sé cuál es tu obsesión con mi mujer,” (I don’t know what your obsession with my girl is) he begins to confront him, “but that shit ends tonight. Basta con estas tonterías de ser contacto de emergencia o de andar con ella, fingiendo ser su amigo. I can see right through you.” (No more of this emergency contact bullshit or hanging around her pretending to be her friend)

Javier’s jaw tightens, and a muscle twitches in his cheek. He’s already had his ass handed to him once tonight, but the temptation to go another round—this time with Mateo—is almost too good to resist.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Then maybe you should be the one hittin’ the road,” he retorts, his tone like gravel. “Keepin’ her locked up at your place like she’s some fuckin’ doll that doesn’t have a life of her own to live. Eso no es amor, es control.” (That’s not love, that’s control)

Mateo snorts, a humorless sound that sets Javier’s blood boiling. “Locked up?” he echoes, his lips curling into a sneer. “Le doy todo lo que necesita. Está feliz conmigo—ya no es el desastre que era cuando andabas por aqui. Cree que no me doy cuenta, pero no soy idiota. Desde que desapareciste de la faz de la tierra, está contenta. No necesito que regreses y me lo arruines. Stay the fuck away from her.” (I give her everything she needs. She’s happy with me —no longer the upset mess she was when you were around. She thinks I don’t notice, but I’m not an idiot. Ever since you dropped off the face of the earth, she’s been content. I don’t need you coming back and ruining it for me)

The words hit Javier harder than any punch he took earlier that night. He knows there’s some truth to them. Hell, he’s been kicking himself for months over how he left things with you.

But Mateo’s entitled delivery makes his fists clench, his chest puffing out in barely contained fury. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lunge forward and break his fucking nose.

Before either of them can escalate the situation further, you reappear, a white paper bag in hand. You stop short, glancing between them, your brows furrowing at their postures.

“Instructions are on the bag,” you say, handing it to Javier. “Your cab should be here any minute.”

Javier takes the bag, his eyes darting to you briefly before landing back on Mateo. His fists relax slightly, but his shoulders remain rigid.

You shift uncomfortably, the atmosphere heavy and you wonder what you just walked in on.

Mateo steps closer to you, sliding his hand into yours and pulling you to his side. You let it happen, not fully grasping that this isn’t just affection—it’s a display of dominance. He’s making a point, staking his claim on you in front of Javier.

Javier notices. Of course he does. It burns him up inside, but he bites down on the simmering anger, knowing now isn’t the time to say anything. He’s just been given a sliver of hope to fix things with you, and he’s not about to jeopardize it by getting into it with your asshole boyfriend.

Moments later, the cab pulls up to the curb. Javier exhales slowly, steeling himself as he moves toward the car. He tries not to wince as he slides into the backseat, his body protesting every movement.

“I’ll see you around,” you tell him softly, still standing at Mateo’s side. His arm has snaked around your waist now, and Javi’s stomach twists at the sight.

He doesn’t respond, just nods, his expression unreadable. The door closes, and as the cab pulls away, Javier’s head falls back against the headrest.

He knows this isn’t going to be easy. Fixing things with you, proving he’s deserving of your friendship—it’s going to take a lot of fucking effort.

A nagging doubt then creeps in: has he set himself up for failure?

The room is stifling, the warm glow of the desk lamp barely cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke and exhaustion. Papers are strewn across the table, maps, routing numbers, and satellite photos spread out like the world's most maddening puzzle.

Javier leans back in his chair with his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Trujillo flips through pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“I keep seeing the same routing number attached to some of these shipments,” Steve mutters, ashing his cigarette into an overflowing tray. He leans forward, his tone carrying a spark of determination. “Something’s telling me we should check it out.”

It feels like it’s been months of running after ghosts while Escobar and his men continue to outpace them. “Half of these are fake accounts set up to throw us off,” Javi states. “Even if there’s drug money in ‘em, they don’t give a shit. It’s collateral. They’ll make that back in days.”

“It’s still worth checking out,” Steve counters, unbothered by his partner’s irritation. He taps the paper. “Could be our needle in this fucked-up haystack.”

Javier exhales heavily, rolling his neck like he’s trying to shake off the weight of his own weariness. He has no desire to chase another dead end tonight. “You handle it. I’ll stay here with Trujillo, see if we can find another angle.”

Steve shrugs, already slipping on his coat. “Fine by me. Need some fresh air anyway. Smells like ass in here.”

Trujillo snorts, his laughter muffled behind his fist, but Javier doesn’t even crack a smile. His focus is already back on the satellite photos sprawled across the table—grainy images of the barrios where Escobar’s operations are most active.

He traces the outline of one, his coffee mug dangling precariously from his other hand, its contents spiked with enough liquor to numb the ache of his lingering injuries.

The hours stretch thin, blending into each other, the occasional sound of shuffling papers or Trujillo’s half-snore the only break in the silence. Javier barely notices, remaining focused to find anything that could give them the upperhand.

When Steve returns, the sound of the folder slamming onto the table jolts Trujillo awake. He blinks blearily, mumbling something incoherent, while Javier looks up, his expression more bored than curious.

“What’d you find?” he asks, his tone flat, tired.

“Open it,” Steve says, a sly edge in his voice.

Javier grabs the folder with little enthusiasm. But the moment his eyes land on the photo inside, his entire body stiffens. His jaw tightens, and his chest constricts as a surge of panic bolts through him.

It’s Mateo.

Steve keeps talking, his words distant and muddled as Javier stares at the picture. “Just like that account is attached to the shipments, he’s attached to the account. The bank he works at is owned by some powerful and shady people. I’m almost certain he’s on Escobar’s payroll. At this point—who isn’t?”

The rest of Steve’s explanation fades into background noise as Javier processes what this means.

For months you’ve been involved with someone who has ties to one of the most dangerous men in the world.

It can’t be a coincidence. Mateo sought you out. You work at the American embassy—not in a high-ranking position, but enough to get the attention of the wrong people.

That night at the hospital… it wasn’t just jealousy. It wasn’t just him ‘staking his claim’, telling Javi to stay away. Mateo knew. He knew that if Javier got too close, he’d find out.

Now all of the violence, the lies, the endless cycles of chasing men like your boyfriend have spilled over into your life, staining the one good thing he’s tried to keep untouched.

“Javier.” Steve snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him back to the present.

“What?”

Steve narrows his eyes. “What do you think we should do?”

Javier exhales through his nose, rubbing his lips together as he stares down at the photo again. His mind is already spinning with strategies, balancing the need to act against the risk of tipping Mateo off too soon.

Then he thinks about how you’ll react when he tells you. He knows you’ll need more than just his word. He’ll need proof. Otherwise, you’ll think he’s doing this just to sabotage your relationship.

“Tail the guy,” he finally says, his voice steadier now. “Follow him around, gather intel. We need to be sure we’re not just jumping the gun because it fits the narrative we want it to fit.”

Steve nods, but Javier barely notices. His only priority now is making sure that you remain safe while they think of a plan to bring this man in.

“Cariño, hold up.” Javier’s voice cuts through the cool night air as he jogs toward you. You’re halfway to the entrance of Mateo’s building, keys in hand, when you stop and turn, startled to see him.

“Javi?” Your brows furrow, confusion flickering across your face as you take in his familiar figure—black button-up shirt, jeans, and those scuffed boots that have somehow become as much a part of him as the shadows he carries. “What are you doing here?”

Things between you two aren’t as strained as they were, but they’re far from how they used to be. Those easy conversations and shared meals feel like a distant memory, replaced by brief, polite interactions at work and the occasional glance that lingers too long.

At least you’re acknowledging that he exists again.

Javier hasn’t pushed, though. He’s been careful, letting things progress naturally, giving you space while silently yearning for the warmth you once offered so freely.

But right now, his usual restraint is gone. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to tell you.” He glances around the semi-populated area then gently takes your elbow, guiding you away from the open street to a nearby alleyway.

Your heart sinks. You don’t know what he’s about to say, but the hardened look in his eyes tells you it’s not good. “What’s wrong?”

He reaches behind him, pulling out a stack of folded papers he had tucked into the back of his jeans. He holds them out to you, his expression unreadable, as if bracing for impact. “Mateo is working for Escobar,” he says bluntly.

For a moment, all you can do is blink at him, your mind scrambling to process. Slowly, you take the papers, your hands trembling slightly as you unfold them.

The photos hit you first: Mateo in various locations, surrounded by men you don’t recognize. Beneath the images are detailed reports, routing numbers, bank transactions—a web of evidence you don’t want to believe.

“I’m sorry—what?” You let out a laugh, but it’s strained and hollow, a defense against the disbelief clawing at your chest. “Are you serious?”

“The bank he works at launders money for Escobar’s operations,” Javier explains, his voice steady but tense. “Fake accounts, hidden transfers, branches overseas—he’s tied to all of it. We’re building a case now, but—”

“Stop.” You cut him off, shoving the papers back into his hands. Your head shakes instinctively, refusing to entertain the possibility. “No. No way. Mateo would never. He’s always talking about how much he hates those men, how they’ve ruined this country. He wouldn’t work for them, Javi. He hates them. And honestly? I’m kind of hurt you’d even accuse him of this.”

The man Javier is describing—some slimy criminal playing a dangerous game with the cartel—doesn’t resemble the Mateo you know, the Mateo you’ve spent nearly a year forcing yourself to feel something for. And now that some feelings are sticking, here comes Javier with this metaphorical anvil, dropping it right over your head.

Your brain scrambles, frantically searching for some explanation that could make it all untrue.

You’ve seen his disgust at the violence that plagues this country, the way his jaw tightens when the news shows another bombing or assassination. You’ve heard his impassioned speeches about wanting to see real change, about how the corruption needs to end for there to be any hope.

Your chest tightens as the thoughts contort inside you: What if you’re wrong? What if Mateo’s perfect facade is just that—a facade? It feels impossible, a cruel betrayal by the universe itself.

Because if it’s true, then you’ve let yourself fall for a lie. And you’re not sure how you’ll cope with the weight of that.

Javier’s face hardens, his frustration nipping at him. He says your name firmly. “This isn’t about some petty rivalry. I’m not making this up. It’s real. He’s dangerous.”

But you shake your head again, denial eclipsing reason. “You’re wrong. This is just…” You exhale sharply, the words tangled on your tongue. “It’s absurd. You don’t like him, so now you’re trying to drag him into this?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face at your lack of acceptance, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by sheer exasperation. “This has nothing to do with how I feel about him,” his voice rises slightly before he reins it in.

He steps closer, his hands gently gripping your forearms to stop you from walking away. “I’m not lying to you. You have to trust me. Mateo isn’t who you think he is.”

“Much like you, right?” The words escape before you can stop them, cutting deep and twisting in the space between you.

His jaw twitches. “Cariño, por favor—”

“Let go, Javi.” Your voice wavers, but your resolve doesn’t.

He wants to shout, to demand you reconsider, to tell you how these things usually end. But he doesn’t. The thought that you’re safer because of your government ties is the only thing keeping him in check.

He stares at you for a long moment, his grip loosening before he finally lets go. “Fine,” he says, “don’t believe me. But you’ll see soon enough. Just…” He swallows hard, “be smart. Be safe. If something happens to you…”

He trails off, looking down, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. You don’t know about the ghosts that haunt him, but you can see the weight of them now, heavy in the lines of his face. “Por favor, cuídate.” (Please take care of yourself)

You straighten your shoulders, masking the turmoil inside with a veneer of indifference. “I’ll be fine. Goodbye, Javi.”

Turning away, you walk back toward the building without a backward glance. Your steps are steady, but your chest feels hollow, your mind buzzing with too many thoughts to make sense of any of them.

Behind you, Javier stands in the shadows of the alley, watching until you disappear through the doors of the building.

His hands curl into fists at his sides, frustration and dread curling in his gut.

What happened earlier with Javier clouds your line of thinking as you lie naked beneath the silk sheets of Mateo’s bed, his lips lazily dragging across your shoulder before finding their way to your mouth, kissing you passionately.

“Join me in the shower?” He mutters, his large hand massaging your thigh before it trails up to cup your breast.

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, hoping it disguises the unease you’re beginning to feel. “Yeah, just give me a second and I’ll be there.”

He doesn’t think anything of it, kissing you again before slipping out of bed. You listen as the bathroom door shuts and wait for the faint hiss of water hitting the tile.

Wrapping the sheet around yourself, you rise quietly, your pulse pounding in your ears. The small voice in your head that’s screaming at you to stop is drowned out by the rush of adrenaline as you start rifling through his belongings.

Nothing stands out—just the neatly arranged trappings of his life, curated to look perfect. But perfection doesn’t leave room for secrets.

If he’s hiding something, it wouldn’t be here. Your gaze shifts to the hallway where the closed door of his office is.

Tiptoeing down the corridor, you push the door open and slip inside, the sheet still wrapped tightly around you.

The air in here feels heavier, like the room itself is holding its breath. You move quickly, sifting through drawers and shelves, your heart a riot in your chest as you search for something—anything—to prove or disprove Javier’s accusations.

Then you find it: a loose bottom in one of the desk drawers. Your fingers fumble as you pry it open, and there it is—a leather-bound ledger, hidden away like a dirty secret.

You bite your lip, hesitating for just a moment before flipping through it. Familiar initials, dates, and sums that match too closely with what Javier showed you earlier. Names you’ve heard on the news, men associated with violence and destruction.

Your stomach turns as the realization washes over you—Javier was right.

You’re so caught up in the revelation, that you don’t hear when Mateo curiously cuts his shower short after you failed to join him, padding down the hallway until he’s at the door of his office, catching you red handed with the ledger in your possession.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His voice slices through the air like a whip, and you flinch, clutching the damning item to your chest. Turning slowly, you meet his glare, the heat of his anger so palpable it makes your skin prickle.

“What is this, Mateo?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, heat flooding your face, panic building at the base of your spine.

He steps into the room, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Why the fuck are you going through my things?”

“You need to explain yourself right now,” you demand, though your hands tremble. “Or else—”

“Or else what, lindura?” His voice drips indignation as he closes the space between you in an instant. “You gonna call your friend at the DEA? Snitch on me?”

Before you can answer, he crosses the room in two long strides. The ledger is ripped from your grasp, and his hands are on you, shoving you roughly against the wall. Your cheek presses against the cool surface, and he yanks your arms behind your back, his grip on your wrists unrelenting.

The cool silk of the sheet clings to your skin, but it does nothing to shield you from the shame burning through your body. His breath, hot and sharp with fury, ghosts over your ear as he leans in close. “You had no right to go through my things.”

“You lied to me,” you spit back, struggling against his grip. “You’re working with those monsters—you’re just like them!”

He laughs bitterly, the sound lacking humor. “You don’t know shit about how this works.” He presses harder, keeping you pinned. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand enough to know what you are,” you hiss, your voice breaking. “That ledger proves everything. The accounts, the shipments—everything Javi said was true.”

At the mention of Javier, his grip tightens painfully, and you let out a soft gasp. “Javier.” The way he spits the name sends a shiver down your spine. “Of course, this is about him.”

“You’re deflecting,” you accuse, though your body betrays you, trembling against the wall. “If you’re innocent, explain it to me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mateo lets out another harsh, humorless laugh. “Wrong? Wrong?” He releases one of your wrists, only to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back until your neck strains and you wince. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? You’ve put both of us in danger.”

“I’m not the one working with murderers!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “You lied to me, Mateo. You’ve been lying this whole time.”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he might actually hurt you. Instead, he yanks you back from the wall and spins you around to face him, his hold on you still bruising.

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

“Survive?” you repeat, disbelief lacing your words. “You chose this. You chose to work for men who ruin lives, who destroy families. You’re just as bad as they are. You’re profiting off the misery and destruction of others. That’s not survival—that’s greed.”

Mateo’s face twists with fury, his hand flying up like he’s about to strike, and you brace yourself for the hit, but he stops himself, his chest heaving.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths.

He steps back, releasing you abruptly, and you stumble, clutching the sheet tightly against you.

“You know too much. I can’t risk you running off telling them everything, especially if they’ve already been tipped off. Fuck!” He swipes at his desk, sending a glass trinket flying and shattering against the hardwood floor.

You try not to let fear swallow you whole, but it’s hard not to—especially when you know how brutal these things can end.

You remain silent, watching Mateo pace the room with a towel wrapped around his hips, not daring to say anything because you don’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger again.

He doesn’t let you leave his apartment for three long days, the hours stretching endlessly under his watchful gaze.

Being held in his penthouse—perched high above the city like a gilded cage—only amplifies the suffocating isolation.

The thought of trying to escape crosses your mind repeatedly, but you know better. Running would make things worse. Right now, staying put and waiting for Javier to come through is your best, and only, option.

You can’t stop replaying the moment he tried to warn you, the worry etched into his face, the edge of desperation in his voice.

You’d brushed it all off, blinded by your need to believe Mateo was different. That he could be something good.

You should have listened to him.

Now you see the truth. He wasn’t special; he was just another man playing a role. You hate yourself for letting your heart cloud your judgment so easily.

Calling in sick to work is a delicate operation. Mateo looms nearby, arms crossed, glaring at you as you speak to your supervisor. You carefully mask the tremor in your voice, saying all the right things to ensure no suspicions are raised.

He keeps his own phone calls confined to the balcony, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish that’s too muffled and too quick for you to decipher. You strain to catch even a few words, pressing your ear to the glass, but it’s futile. The conversations are long, tense, and only heighten your paranoia.

You’re not sure what his plan is, but since the initial explosion of anger and aggression when he caught you with the ledger, he’s been disturbingly composed.

His calmness is almost off putting.

He finally approaches you one evening, the sun dipping low behind him, his voice is unnervingly steady. “You can go.”

You blink, sure you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“You’re not a threat. Too low-level for anyone to care about. By the time you’re home, I’ll be gone.”

His nonchalance unsettles you, and you hesitate as he disappears down the hall. When he returns, he’s carrying your shoes and bag, as though this were a casual parting.

“So that’s it? You’re just letting me leave after keeping me here like a hostage?”

“I had to make sure everything was in place first,” he explains. “I couldn’t have you running your mouth before things were handled.”

His packed suitcase in his closet flashes in your mind, along with his endless phone calls. Maybe he really is more worried about disappearing than dealing with you.

But the cartel doesn’t let loose ends walk away. Your heart pounds as you weigh whether this sudden freedom is genuine—or a trap.

You slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder, the need to escape drowning your caution. Still, you pause, unable to shake the uneasy feeling settling in your bones.

“What?” Mateo’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “You don’t believe me? Want me to drop you off myself?” He steps toward you, and you instinctively retreat.

“Why were you even with me?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Was it my job?”

He tilts his head, his gaze cold and calculating. “No,” he replies, his tone devoid of emotion. “I was attracted to you. Then you mentioned your job, and I figured, why not? But you turned out to be useless for that. Didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the perks—companionship, a warm bed…”

The insinuation in his voice makes your stomach churn. “So you used me.”

“As much as you used me,” he counters, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Your chest tightens and your gaze flits down to the floor. His detached demeanor cuts deeper than any heated argument could. When he says your name, it pulls your attention back to him like a leash.

“Leave.”

The word releases you, your body moving before your mind catches up. Stumbling toward the door, your trembling hands barely manage to turn the lock. The moment it opens, you bolt, refusing to look back.

Your necessities are in your bag, everything left behind purely materialistic.

You know you can’t go back to your apartment. They know who you are now, and no matter how insignificant Mateo says you are, you can’t risk staying.

Your fingers dig into the strap of your bag as you mentally map out an escape plan. You’ll go straight to Javier. He’ll know what to do. He’ll keep you safe.

Upstairs, Mateo leans against the window, the burner phone pressed to his ear. “Ya se fue,” (She’s gone) he says, his tone devoid of emotion. “Hagan lo que quieran con ella, pero no le disparen.” (Do whatever you want with her—just don’t shoot her)

Javier has been restless all night, unable to shake the weight of worry that had clung to him since returning from his assignment in Medellín.

The information about your sudden “illness” hadn’t sat right with him. Too convenient, too vague. He hadn’t pressed his team tailing Mateo for more than the facts—they’d seen nothing suspicious—but the absence of evidence did little to calm him.

So when the muffled sounds outside his door reach him, he’s on his feet in seconds.

He swings open the door to find you struggling to unlock yours, your entire body trembling as you fumble with your keys. Relief washes over him so suddenly, it nearly buckles his knees. “You’re okay.”

The second his voice cuts through the silence, something inside you begins to break. It’s soft, concerned, carrying a weight of relief that only makes you feel heavier.

The ache that has swallowed your body whole now reaches your chest, blooming into something sharper. You feel like crumbling right there in the hallway, letting the floor catch you because you don’t think you can hold yourself up for much longer.

This pain is a hum that pulses through your entire being, dull in some places, jagged and relentless in others. It numbs you in strange ways, yet it’s all you can feel, consuming every fragile thread of strength you have left.

You don’t even know how you made it back, how your trembling legs carried you through shadowed alleys and along dimly lit streets. Survival instinct? Perseverance?

It all happened so fast.

You stepped off the bus from Mateo’s place, unaware of the storm waiting to meet you. A few minutes of walking was all it took. They came out of nowhere, grabbing you roughly and dragging you into the shadows. Two of them—large, brutal—landed punches and kicks like you were nothing more than a punching bag.

The pain blurred into one endless wave, but their words cut even deeper. They spoke mockingly, almost laughing, about assaulting you in ways that made you wish they would just pull a gun out and end it all right there.

When you finally fell limp under their blows, you heard one of them mutter something. A boot nudged your side—testing, checking—but they didn’t bother to confirm. No pulse, no breath. Just assumptions. They left you there like discarded trash, their shadows disappearing into the night.

It took minutes, maybe hours, before you could even think about moving. You waited, your breath catching on sharp pains that confirmed what you feared—broken ribs.

The air burned in your lungs, and your head spun so violently, it was hard to tell if you were standing or lying down.

Eventually, with no other choice, you dragged yourself upright, ignoring the protests of your battered body.

The world tilted as you took your first step, and then another. Every ounce of strength you had went into putting one foot in front of the other.

When you finally reached your apartment door, you were shaking so hard it was nearly impossible to hold your keys.

Trembling hands fumbled with the lock, missing again and again. Your vision swam, blurring the keyhole into an indistinct smudge.

And then there’s Javier.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him. He says your name, but you don’t respond, your focus locked on the useless, agitating hands that can’t seem to do anything right. How could you possibly move on from this?

You’re just standing here, struggling to breathe, struggling to exist, as the weight of everything presses harder and harder on your broken soul.

His relief is short-lived. Something’s wrong.

The second his voice reaches you, your whole body seems to collapse inward. You clutch the door frame for balance, your breathing ragged.

Javier’s stomach twists as he takes in your state—your disheveled hair, the cuts on your hands, the way your shoulders slump as if the weight of the world has been dropped on them.

He steps closer. “Hey,” he says softly yet firmly. “Look at me. Mirame.”

You don’t. Your head shakes faintly, and the motion makes you wince.

It’s not purposeful ignoring; you’re hurt. He notices it now, the stiffness in the way you hold yourself, the shallow rise and fall of your chest like every breath is a struggle. His jaw clenches. What the hell happened to you?

His plea is more urgent now. “Cariño, please. You’re worrying me.”

Your lip quivers, and slowly, you start to unravel—one tear falls, then another, then another until they’re streaming freely down your cheeks.

He can’t hold himself back anymore. In two strides, he’s in front of you, slipping between you and the door, his large frame a protective shield.

Still, you refuse to meet his gaze, your silence loud and barbed.

Javier’s jaw tightens, his hand twitching at his side. It is taking every ounce of restraint not to reach out and cup your face, tilt it upward, make you look at him.

The tension is unbearable, the space between your bowed head and his searching eyes buzzing with unsaid words.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Look at me.”

Finally, you do. And it breaks him.

Your face is battered—one eye nearly swollen shut, a deep gash across your cheek, your lip split, nose still bleeding.

The vulnerability in your gaze hits him like a freight train, and he fights to keep his rage at bay. His nostrils flare, his entire body tensing as red creeps into the edges of his vision.

Every mark on your face feels like a personal attack.

This isn’t the time to lose control—not when you need him steady. Not when you’re crumbling right in front of him. You’re here. You’re alive. And right now, that’s all that matters.

His grip is careful, as though you might shatter beneath his touch, as he gently cradles your face into his hands. “Did he do this to you?” He has to know, though the answer seems to be glaringly obvious.

The sob tears from your throat like a wounded animal’s cry, raw and unrestrained, echoing down the hallway. It shakes you to your core, unraveling the fragile composure you’ve been clinging to.

Before you can hit the ground, Javier is there—solid and unyielding—catching you in his arms and pulling you carefully against his chest then guiding you into his apartment.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger and helplessness.

The pain hits you all at once and you cling to Javier like he’s a lifeline, allowing him to move you until you’re sitting on his couch and he’s crouching in front of you.

Through choked cries, you manage, “Two men... they pulled me into an alley and did this.” The words spill out in fragments, each one more pained than the last. Your whole body quivers, and your heart races so wildly that you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack.

“We need to get you to a hospital.” He is woefully underprepared to deal with you in this state, you need proper care and he needs to deal with the fury that’s engulfing him by finding this piece of shit to beat his teeth in for what he’s done to you.

Your eyes widen. “No,” you croak, your voice hoarse from crying. “They’ll know they didn’t kill me. I can’t, Javi. I can’t.”

This is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do–remaining calm and fucking collected right now, suppressing the rage that’s clawing at his chest and threatening to spill out in a way that would terrify you more than you already are.

His mind spirals, circling back to that same godforsaken question: Why does it always come to this? First Helena, now you. This job—this life—it’s a parasite, sucking the light out of anything worth a damn.

Why can’t his penance be his own? Why must it reach everything he loves?

Fuck, maybe Connie knows enough to help you in the time being. If not, he’d find a way to make sure you got the care you needed while flying under the radar.

He’d tear down the goddamn world for you if he had to. Move heaven and hell, break every rule in the book—none of it matters if it means keeping you safe.

He looks at you again, seeing the fear trembling on your lips, and something solidifies within him. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

I won’t let them take anything more from you, he swears silently, his gaze softening despite the storm raging inside him. “I’ll take care of it,” he says aloud, his voice steadier now, resolute.

He starts to rise, intent on getting help, but your hand darts out, catching his wrist with trembling fingers, even though the motion sends a fresh wave of agony through your ribs. “Please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Don’t leave me.” The sheer terror in your eyes is enough to tear him up from the inside out.

“Never again.” He promises, reaching over for the phone on the end table with one hand while the other stays on yours, dialing the familiar number.

Javier leans against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed and his jaw tight, listening as Connie explains your injuries.

The words feel like punches themselves—broken ribs, bruises all over your body, stitches across your cheekbone, but nothing that needed immediate intervention.

When he finally forces himself to ask, his voice is gruff, barely above a whisper. “Did they…”

Connie’s face softens, the professionalism in her demeanor giving way to quiet sympathy. “No,” she says firmly, meeting his eyes. “I asked her. I didn’t see any bruising or signs of trauma around her pelvis. She says it didn’t happen, but we won’t know for sure until she gets a kit ran.”

The tightness in his chest doesn’t ease, even with her answer. The mere thought of those men doing that to you has his fists clenching so hard his knuckles ache. His fury simmers low but steady, like a kettle on the verge of boiling over.

He nods curtly, his voice rough with gratitude. “Thanks for coming, Connie. I owe you one.”

She waves him off, already heading toward the door with her medical bag slung over her shoulder. “It’s the least I can do. You make sure my husband gets home safe all the time. Just… make sure she rests, takes the pain meds. No heavy lifting, no unnecessary stress.” She glances back at him, her eyes full of meaning. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

When he closes the door behind her, he exhales slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on his chest. The apartment feels too quiet now, and his eyes drift toward the closed bathroom door where you’re still inside.

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck before knocking gently. “You good?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, almost tentative.

There’s a long pause before he hears your voice, quiet and weary. “Yeah… you can come in.”

Pushing the door open, Javier steps inside, his boots scraping softly against the tile. The sight of you in the tub stops him cold.

You’re hugging your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around them despite the obvious strain it puts on your ribs. The water is cloudy, tinged slightly pink from where Connie had cleaned your wounds. Steam curls faintly in the air, the room heavy with the scent of lavender soap.

His chest tightens again, a mix of anger and something else entirely. You look so small, so vulnerable, your face drawn with exhaustion and pain. Your head tilts slightly, your damp hair sticking to your cheeks as you glance up at him, your expression guarded.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken.”

Javier’s throat works as he swallows hard, dragging a hand down his face to mask the guilt flashing across his features. “I don’t think you’re broken,” he says finally, his voice rough but steady. “I think you’re strong as hell.”

You huff a soft, humorless laugh, resting your chin on your knees. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

He takes a careful step closer, his hand brushing against the edge of the sink as he leans back against it, his eyes never leaving you. “You survived,” he says quietly, his voice thick with conviction. “That’s strength.”

For a moment, you don’t respond, your gaze fixed on the water as if it holds answers you can’t quite find. Finally, you sigh, your arms loosening slightly from around your knees. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Javier says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The silence stretches between you like a fragile thread until your voice breaks it, soft and raw. “I’m sorry for not believing you.”

Javier’s head snaps up, his expression hardening—not with anger, but with the kind of fierce protectiveness that has become second nature to him. “Don’t,” he says sharply, the words thick with conviction. He shakes his head, his voice softening but no less intense. “Don’t you dare apologize, cariño. None of this—none of it—is on you. This is on men like them, who run through life hurting innocent people for their selfish, fucked-up reasons.”

Your face crumples, and you press your trembling lips together, trying to stave off the tears threatening to spill over again. “I was stupid,” you choke out, the words a blade against your own heart. “I thought—God, I thought he was just going to let me go. He made it seem like… like I was nothing but a minor inconvenience. And then…” Your voice falters, the memories clawing at you, and you shut your eyes tight, forcing a deep breath the way Connie had just taught you.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Seeing you like this does something to Javier that he’s never quite felt before.

He’s seen grief, fear, and pain—hell, he’s caused more than his fair share—but this? This helplessness, this guilt? It’s a hollowing thing, gnawing at his insides with ruthless efficiency.

He thought what happened Helena had broken him, but this is different. This is you. You. And he’s here, but it feels like it isn’t enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” you ask, barely above a whisper, as though afraid of the answer.

He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze drops to the tips of his boots, jaw tightening.

The logical answer is simple: those bastards who hurt you should be found, arrested, and thrown behind bars to rot. But he’s not naïve. Justice doesn’t always come cleanly. More often than not, it doesn’t come at all. And the thought of leaving it up to the system? Doing nothing would be more beneficial somehow.

Ever since Connie showed up to treat your wounds, an idea has been gnawing at the back of his mind.

He could visit Berna… one of his more resourceful informants, and get everything he needs to track those motherfuckers down. Handle things his way.

But he can’t tell you that, especially if he decides to follow through with it.

“You’re going to stay with me until I can guarantee that you’re safe,” he says finally. “Or, I can arrange for you to go to a safe house—”

“No.” The word comes sharp and immediate, your eyes snapping open to meet his. Despite the pain radiating through your battered body, you sit up slightly, holding his gaze with surprising resolve. “I’d rather stay here. With you.”

He exhales a long breath, nodding slowly as he scratches at his jaw, considering his next words carefully. “Do you remember that night you got drunk with Maria from HR and almost threw up in my car?”

The memory hits you, sharp and vivid. It was after you and Javier had mended things following the night he stood you up for Helena. You cringe a little at the thought of how self-deprecating you’d been then, how you’d spilled your guts—both figuratively and literally—once you got home.

This unexpected shift catches you off guard. For a moment, the ghost of a smile tries to tug at your lips, though it’s swallowed quickly by the weight of the night. “Yeah,” you murmur. “One of the worst hangovers I’ve ever had.”

Javier chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Tequila’ll do that…” His voice trails off as he thinks about the confession you’d made that night—about your discomfort in your own skin, your doubts about whether you even belonged here. He remembers how, in return, he’d told you then how much you meant to him, how much this job weighed on his conscience.

“I should’ve told you then. That I loved you.”

The confession rams right into your heart. Tears spill freely, and you bury your face in your arms, your entire body shaking.

As tender and sincere as it is, his profession doesn’t soothe you.

You want to feel comforted, to let his words wrap around you like a shield against the horror of the night, but instead, they do the opposite.

The timing feels wrong, the weight of his love pressing down on wounds too fresh to bear it. It feels like trying to breathe through shattered ribs—too much, too soon, and it hurts more than it heals.

Fuck. shouldn’t have said that—not now, not when you’re at your most vulnerable. He stands frozen for a moment, unsure if he should move closer or stay where he is. His hands grip the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Finally, you lift your head, your face swollen and red. “Don’t say that just because of what h-happened,” you stammer, your voice cracking. “I don’t need you to feel obligated to feel some type of way because of it.”

“This has nothing to do with what happened tonight,” Javier says firmly, your name falling from his lips. He pushes off the sink, crossing the room to crouch beside the tub.

Neither of you seem to care about your state of undress—it’s not about that. His gaze locks on yours, steady and sure.

“It’s how I’ve been feeling for so long now,” he continues, his voice low but full of conviction. “And I’ve fucked it up so many times along the way when I should have just been honest. But I was so scared—scared of hurting you, of not being able to give you all of me. Of not being the man you deserve.”

You blink at him, your mind swimming in the gravity of his words.

They hit you like waves, powerful and unrelenting, pulling you under even as you struggle to stay afloat in this overwhelming moment.

Javier loves you. Despite the scars he carries, despite his mistakes, he’s offering you a truth that feels too big to hold right now. It’s not just one-sided; it never has been, and that realization aches in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Javi…” you whisper his name, a sigh that escapes like a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

One of your arms unwinds from around your body, trembling as you reach out and rest your hand on his where it clings to the edge of the tub. The warmth of his skin against yours feels grounding, even as everything inside you is unraveling.

His gaze locks onto yours, those soulful brown eyes glinting with hope and desperation under the soft bathroom light. He leans closer, as if every ounce of him is hanging on what you might say next.

“Do you mean that?”

“With all my fuckin’ heart.”

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest, conflicting emotions tearing you apart. “I can’t even begin to fathom that right now,” you admit, your voice breaking.

“And I’m not expecting you to,” he says quickly, his grip tightening on the porcelain edge of the tub. “I just needed you to know. I guess what happened tonight finally put my ass in place. Made me realize how much of a dumbass I’ve been. Te amo, cariño. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. But I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

You want to tell him everything—how you’ve carried feelings for him from the very first day you met, how his mere presence lit up spaces you didn’t know were dark. How you’ve loved him in ways that scared you, in ways you tried to push down. But the words stay trapped, locked behind the barricade of pain you’re still trying to process.

“I wish we could have had this conversation before all of this.” Your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in a tentative, instinctual show of affection, and his whole body seems to soften under the touch.

“Me too,” he admits, “But we can’t change the past, as much as we want to. Whatever happens after this… we’ll get through it. Together.” His voice lowers, a quiet promise lingering in the air. “I meant it when I said I’m not leaving you.”

For the first time tonight, you feel a fragile flicker of safety, of something unbroken, even if you’re not ready to hold it just yet.

You nod, biting your lip as tears spill over yet again, and Javier’s hand shifts slightly beneath yours, his fingers brushing against yours in silent reassurance.

For now, that’s enough.

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surftrips · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe you could do single dad jj maybank he’s in college and has to do a project with the reader and has to bring the baby with them and they bond and start to hang out a lot then they start to date also maybe she’s a single mom I feel like that would be like a unique thing

thank you so much for this request! i hope you don't mind that i switched it up a bit (and got carried away lol) but reader is the single mom here and her and jj have known each other their whole lives :)

when you know, you know

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: y/n needs a babysitter and jj is the only person available.

word count: 3.5k

"Okay, I understand. Thanks, anyway," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and hanging up the phone. Your babysitter had just canceled on you, and the timing could not have been worse.

You had been planning this night for months. Between your classes, a part-time job, and taking care of your 2-year-old Margo, it was nearly impossible to schedule anything. But you desperately needed a night out and your friend Emma had so kindly offered to set you up on a blind date.

You scrolled through your contacts list, looking for anyone that was sober on a Friday night, a seemingly impossible task. Glancing at the time, you realized that you only had an hour left to find a babysitter and get ready.

As panic set in, you received a text from the P4L groupchat.

JJ: Wtw tonight?

Not now JJ, you thought.

Y/N: Trying to find a babysitter, mine just canceled :/

Kie: Oh no, Y/N!! I'm so sorry :(

Cleo: Sorry babes, I totally wouldd but I already lost count of how many drnks I've had 2nite xxx

JJ: Wait, you guys went out already?

Sarah: JJ, we told you it's a girls night.

JJ: In that case, Y/N, I'll watch Margo!

Absolutely not, was your first thought. JJ Maybank was probably the last person you wanted to take care of your child, he was practically one himself.

Besides, since you had Margo, he was always acting weird around you. Before, you two would hang out all the time, but now he only saw you if there was another person there as a buffer. He hardly visited or called, but you were so preoccupied with raising a baby on your own that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it.

In the beginning, people assumed it was his baby you were pregnant with, but you never crossed that line because your friendship meant the world to each other. He was the first person you told when you found out you were going to be a mother, and you remember how excited he was for you. It was hard to believe how distant he had become, and you wondered why he had volunteered himself tonight.

You assessed the situation: you hadn't gone out in nearly two years, and who knew when the next opportunity would be? You sighed, hardly believing the words you were about to type on your phone.

Y/N: Ok. How soon can you be here?

Y/N: You better be sober, JJ.

You turned your phone off before the others could protest, knowing that half of them were drunk anyway.

"Uncle JJ is going to come over and watch you tonight, okay? Mommy is going to be gone for just a few hours," you said to your daughter, picking her up and placing her in your eye line so you could do your makeup.

"Jay Jay?" she repeated.

"Yes, honey," you smiled, trying to reassure her, or yourself. Out of all the pogues, Kiara and Sarah babysat Margo the most. She had probably only met JJ a handful of times and you worried about how well she would do with him alone.

As if he could read your mind, your phone began ringing and you looked over to see his face on your screen.

"JJ, please don't tell me you're canceling too."

"What? Oh, no, it's not that. I was just wondering if you needed me to bring anything for Margo?"

"Oh," you relaxed. "Hmmm, I think we have everything we need here. But thank you for asking, JJ."

"Of course," you could hear him smiling on the other line. "You know, thanks for letting me watch Margo. I've been meaning to visit her more."

"JJ, you know you're weren't my first choice," you teased. "But yeah, of course. Thanks, I owe you."

You hung up the phone, thoughts from earlier creeping back into your mind. You always assumed that the baby scared JJ away, but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on.

However, now was not the time for you to be thinking about this, considering that you now had 30 minutes left until your date showed up and you had yet to pick out a dress.

"Hmmmm, let's see. Any suggestions, Margo?" you asked your daughter, combing through your closet for something appropriate. You settled on a short black dress with a boat neck, and black knee high boots to go along with it.

"What do we think, sweetie?" you smiled at Margo.

"Pretty!" she clapped her small hands together.

"Why, thank you, baby. Come on, let's go see if Uncle JJ is here yet," you picked her up and checked your phone for any notifications.

Blind Date: Be there in 5! :)

Crap, you thought. Where is JJ?

You shot back a confirmation for your date and looked out the window for any sign of JJ. You weren't sure if he was biking over or he had borrowed the Twinkie, but there was no sign of anyone outside.

Growing anxious, you gathered Margo's favorite toys and books into the living room and tidied up your apartment to pass the time.

Exactly 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. You smoothed down your dress and checked your hair in the mirror one last time. Putting on your best smile, you went to open the door.

"Hi–" you started. "Oh, it's you."

"Come on, that's what I get for dropping everything and saving your ass?" JJ responded.

"Sorry, weren't you the one with no plans on a Friday?"

"You know, I can just turn around right now-"

"Stop!" you pleaded. "Okay, sorry, I've been anxious about this all day and I just want to get back to Margo as fast as I can."

"Relax, Y/N. I'm here now," he took in your appearance. "You look great, by the way."

The last time he saw you remotely dressed up like this was prom night.

You couldn't help but blush, looking around for Margo to hide your face. "Margo, look who it is!"

"Jay Jay!" she babbled.

"Oh my god, she knows my name!" JJ replied, looking a little perplexed.

"You know what, I'm surprised too considering she's only met you, like, four times," you said.

"Alright, you're no fun," he looked at you as you traded your daughter over to his arms. "Miss Margo and I here are going to have the time of our lives. Aren't we?"

He tickled her, causing her to giggle. She seemed so comfortable in his arms, you wondered why you were ever worried in the first place.

"Thanks again for doing this, I know we haven't talked in a while-" you started.

"So, where's the lucky guy?" he interrupted you.

"Uhh," you looked over at the clock. "He said he would be here by now."

"Late to the first date? That's a red flag, Y/N."

"As if you're not a walking red flag, JJ. What did you get here on? Your bike?"

"Hey! I refurbished that bike all on my own! It takes a lot of skill to do that."

Just then, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door, a smile plastered on your face again.

"Hey! You must be Emma's friend! I'm Tom." he greeted you with a hug and a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry for being late, I went to get these flowers for you and was distracted by the girl scouts selling cookies outside. I had to support them, you know?"

"Oh, no worries! Yes, how can you say no to them?" you laughed softly. You took the flowers from him and went to place them on the table closest to you, beckoning him to come in.

"Tom, this is one of my friends, JJ. He's babysitting my daughter, Margo, while we're gone," you said.

"Ah! What a pleasure," Tom went over to shake JJ's hand and politely wave at your daughter. "I promise not to keep your mom out too late tonight."

"That's right, need her back before midnight," JJ remarked.

You playfully pushed him in response, grabbing your keys. "Alright, you have my number so please call me if you need anything. Bye Margo, mommy loves you!"

With that, you and Tom headed outside and into his car.

On the drive over to the restaurant, you learned that Tom was a psychologist, he liked to cook, and reality TV shows were his guilty pleasure. At the restaurant, which was a higher-end place near the water, he pulled out your chair for you.

"I hope this place is okay, I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked so I thought somewhere nicer would be safe," he said.

"Oh, this is perfect. Don't even worry about it," you smiled. "I haven't had a proper night out in so long, I wouldn't have minded if you took me to a burger joint."

He laughed, "Margo is adorable, by the way. How old is she?"

"She's 2," you said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, "I had her when I was 20, at the beginning of my junior year in college."

"I see, how was that? How did you manage classes?" You were surprised at his demeanor, half-expecting him to judge you or run in the opposite direction any second now, but his inquisition was genuine.

"Well, I could still go to classes during the first trimester, but it got more difficult after that so I took a leave of absence. I'm taking night classes now because I work in the mornings."

"Oh nice, what degree are you going for?"

"English, I want to be a teacher," you explained.

"My mom was a teacher," he smiled. "What age do you want to teach?"

"Oh no way! I want to teach elementary school kids. Everyone always tells me how hard it will be, but raising Margo... I don't love anything more than that."

"That's really sweet, are you close with your family?"

You paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Depends on who you consider my family, I guess," you laughed awkwardly. "I'm not close with my parents, but my friends? Those are the most important people in my life."

He smiled, "I understand. I'm glad you have a support system, being a single mother can be hard."

"Yeah, I'm super grateful. Actually, my babysitter for tonight canceled last-minute and JJ came to the rescue. I don't know what I would've done without him."

Tom's smile faltered for an unnoticeable second. "How long have you known him for?"

"JJ? My whole life, probably. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't by my side. He was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy, but after..." you trailed off.

"After...?"

"Afterwards," you hesitated, not wanting to bad-mouth your friend. "I guess he started to distance himself more, I think Margo scared him away honestly."

"You think it was Margo and nothing else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean," he sighed. "Do you think there could be any other reason why he would be so supportive of you before and not after you had Margo?"

"I-I'm not sure. I haven't had much time to think about it, I guess."

"You want my opinion?" Tom asked. You searched his face for any sign of spitefulness, but came up empty.

"I saw the way he looked at you and Margo, earlier. That boy is not scared of either of you. In fact, all I saw was love. Did you ever think he’s grappling with those feelings?”

"His feelings? For me?" It was not the first time you thought about it, but it was the first time you heard it verbalized.

"Yes, I know I sound crazy, but seriously, Y/N, what other reason could there be to explain his behavior?"

You racked your brain for all the possible explanations. Tom had a point, if JJ had feelings for you at some point in your friendship, or still does, he might feel the need to distance himself to protect you.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"I told you, I'm a psychologist. I notice these things," he smiled.

"Is this how all of your first dates go?" you laughed.

"Not all of them, but I’ll admit, a few are like this. But tell me, am I wrong to assume there was something more going on between you two before you got pregnant?"

You sighed, "No, you're not wrong. Our feelings for each other were a truth that neither of us wanted to confront. We were young, we didn't want to be tied down, it was college. But he was always there, by my side, through everything. Of course, I loved him."

"Well, there you go. There's your answer."

Tom dropped you off around midnight. You assured him that there was no need to walk you to your door, you both knew that you needed to have a conversation with JJ.

"Thank you again for tonight, we seriously need to meet up again," you said, before shutting your door.

"Absolutely, I'll give you the address to my office," he joked.

You turned the key into your door as quietly as possible, in case JJ was also asleep with Margo. Inside, the lights were off and you pulled out your phone flashlight to search for him.

You went into Margo's room first, seeing that she was fast asleep in her crib. "Hi baby," you whispered. "Where's Uncle JJ?"

After making sure she was tucked in properly, you turned to go into your bedroom. Sure enough, there was JJ, fast asleep in your bed.

You couldn't help but smile, recalling memories from high school when you two would have sleepovers. Being sure to keep quiet, you changed into your pajamas and got ready for bed.

Trying your best to not wake up JJ, you pulled open the blanket on your side of the bed and slipped in next to him.

"Goodnight, JJ," you whispered.

—

In the morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen. For a second, you weren't sure you were even in your apartment, remembering that you live alone with Margo and surely, you weren't asleep long enough for her to know her way around the kitchen.

But then you remembered that JJ was babysitting last night and had fallen asleep in your bed before you got home.

After a long stretch, you got up and went into the kitchen.

"There she is, good morning pretty," JJ smiled at you.

"Morning... When did you learn how to cook?" you questioned.

"What do you mean? I've always known how to make pancakes."

"Okay, that is just a straight up lie. In high school you would have chips for breakfast."

JJ put his hand to his chest, taking mock offense. "If you must know, I started teaching myself how to cook last year when I moved off-campus."

"Wow, I must say, I am impressed, Mr. Maybank."

"Please, that's my father. You can call me JJ," he said, causing you both to laugh.

Were his eyes always this blue? You thought, as you admired his features in the morning light.

After a moment, you broke the silence. "Uh- I better go check on Margo. How was she last night, by the way?"

"Oh, amazing. Best kid ever."

"Really? She didn't give you a hard time at all?"

"Nope, must have remembered me from when she was in the womb."

You smiled, turning around to your daughter's room.

Sure enough, Margo was sleeping like the baby she was. You checked the clock, she wouldn't be up for at least another hour.

"Margo's still in one piece?" JJ asked when you reentered the kitchen.

"Yes, somehow,” you mused.

"Good, want to try these pancakes now?"

"Yes, please, I'm starving," you sat down across from JJ.

"Starving? Your date didn't feed you last night?"

"Very funny, if you want to know about my date, you can just ask."

"Okay, how was your date?" he relented.

"He's a psychologist."

"Cool, anything else?" JJ looked slightly confused.

"He was very normal and nice," you added.

“I would hope so.”

“Yes, and he likes to cook too.”

“That’s great, how was the date itself?”

“Oh the date itself…” you trailed off.

"Y/N, why are you acting weird?"

"Weird? Me? I'm just telling you about my date."

"You're talking about him like he's your therapist."

"Well, in a way, it was like a therapy session."

"So the date went bad?"

"No, it was really nice."

JJ looked around the kitchen, "Did I accidentally put something in the pancake batter to make you act like this or...?"

"These are great, by the way," you said, pointing to the pancakes with your fork.

"Thanks, but can we get back to the date?"

"Oh, yeah, well, basically," you started.

"Y/N." JJ was rarely ever serious, but he was starting to look concerned with you.

"Okay, fine. It started off really well, we got to know each other. Then, he was asking about Margo and my family, and I told him about my parents, you know. Then he asked about you, and I told him I've known you forever, but after Margo, you started distancing yourself and we haven't seen or talked to each other in a while, and then-" you rambled.

"Then what?"

"And then, he told me, or rather he made me realize, that maybe we need to address the feelings we may or may not have had for each other before I got pregnant," you finished in a rush.

JJ was silent, you weren't sure if the expression on his face was scared or bemused.

"JJ, please say something."

"Was that all?"

"More or less."

He sighed, "Y/N, I think one of the reasons why our friendship worked so well was because we both knew that at any moment, we could pursue something more, but we didn't. We both knew that doing that would ruin our friendship, something we've had for nearly twenty years. I thought college was going to be four years of partying and distractions, but instead, I had to face reality”

“Distractions?”

“Everyone that wasn’t you was a distraction, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Uh, no. It wasn't, actually. JJ, you kept telling me you were trying to meet ‘the one!’”

“Well, I was lying! Okay? You were always the one for me. I just didn’t feel like I was the one for you. So I was stupid and I decided we would be better off as friends, but when you got pregnant…”

“When I got pregnant…?”

“When you told me about Margo, I panicked. I knew you were strong enough to do this on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to. I told myself that I was going to be there for you every step of the way, and I was, until you gave birth. I saw Margo for the first time, and I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Do what, JJ? You know I never needed you to be her father.”

“I know, I know. I saw her and I couldn’t imagine hurting her. I didn’t want her to know me, because to know me is to be disappointed by me,” he sighed.

“JJ,” you stood up now to wrap your arms around him. “Are you kidding me? I was never, never disappointed by you. I was just worried, babe, that’s all. You stopped talking to me after that.”

JJ allowed himself to fall into your arms. “I’m sorry, it just felt like too much at the time. I loved- love you and Margo so much, that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. So I thought it was best to give you some space, until I was better.”

You chuckled, “Is that why you taught yourself how to cook?”

“Stop, I was actually starving and had no choice.”

“And are you better now?”

“When I heard you were going on a date, do you want to know what I thought?”

“What?”

“I thought, I let her go again. I let you go a million times in college, and here I am, letting you go again.”

When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I came over here tonight to show you that. I’m ready for whatever this is going to be, whatever this friendship evolves into. I spent too much time denying the truth, and I think you have too.”

There were not enough words to describe how you were feeling, so you leaned in to kiss your best friend. JJ held your face with such gentleness, you wondered if this was all in your imagination.

Eventually, you pulled away. “I’m done lying, to myself and to each other. This is real, yes?” you asked.

“Yes, I love you, really.”

“I love you too, Maybank.”

You leaned in for a second time, but not before you heard the familiar cries of Margo in the other room.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he smiled with that boyish grin of his that you loved so much. That you have always loved.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x you

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additiva · 4 months ago

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can u rec some lestappen fanfics pleaseee i feel like i’ve read everything and ur an amazing writer so i trust ur taste (even ones you haven’t read and want to read will do) tyy

Ooh I love this. Also that's so lovely thank you 🤍❤️

Lestappen Fic Rec List

Below the cut.

Ok not an exhaustive list, but here are the ones I remember LOVING.

Some are well known, some less so.

I can't rec any I haven't read yet sorry I'm super picky about the writing style, which you don't know until you get into the fic.

I've tagged some authors, some I couldn't remember their Tumblr names even though I follow them. I'll try to remember to tag them later, but also feel free to do so, if you know them.

Please leave kudos and comment on these fic if you check them out 🤍

I'll try to remember to update the list in future if I can.

Every Other Sunday by Anney

Obviously

Home (is wherever I'm with you) by actparci

Charles leaves Ferrari. There's a million of these, and this is my favourite.

Grapefruit Mignonette by slapshots

Restaurant au. The best of the trope in my opinion though the others are also good.

Set My Midnight Sorrow Free by PrincessElectra

-LOVE this series. Ugh. NOT an au.

Violent delights by grandprix

-ABO. Adore this series esp the second one.

Straight Lines by @alphatinies

Yes. Can't describe just read.

Blood Soaked Gown by sixteenthirtythree

ABO. Friends w benefits. Max is retiring and wants Charles to take his Red Bull seat. Adore it.

Canine teeth in the side of my neck by mintchocolatechip97

Silly! Biting. Don't look directly at me.

If I had words by @formula-fun

ABO. Charles has a miscarriage. Don't let the pregnancy themes scare you, it's perfect. The dynamics are 🫠 I adore this Max 😖

Called to the devil and the devil said hey by @creabirds

Yes. Sticks in my brain like glue.

A life in your shape by weiwuxian

- Max is Batman. This bit, I'll never forget:

But it was what made it fun — being taunted and kissed in the same breath. To fight and fuck and feel worshiped the whole time.

Top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge-sangnoir

Sex worker Charles, virgin Max. 😖

Breathe You In (Like a Vapour) by @fabbyf1

🌶️🌶️❤️❤️

I'll Be Right Beside You by @fabbyf1

Max has amnesia. Charles is perfect.

Curious by LaurawritingF1

Charles is bicurious. Max is happy to help.

Heart Out series by @drivestraight

Girl!Max. Charles is bad at sex, but for some reason Max keeps doing it with him. Underrated. One of my fave series ever. Charles is a simp. He cannot handle Max, but he tries anyway, and I LOVE him.

Panem et circenses by Anney

SO underrated wow. Dystopian future of F1 fic, and like. Wow. Perfect. Wow.

Dirtbag, baby by mondaycore

All of their lestappen. Again, don't look directly at me. Look at the fic instead.

The Skirt by Anonymous

Silly! And short. But I love it.

Says he's going to teach me what fast is by @foggystars

Their lestappen are great but actually this Charlos one is my fave 🤌

And these are not Lestappen. They're Maxiel primarily, which I don't seek out in my life but they're SO perfect it makes me sick. I think anyone would enjoy them. The writing is just perfect.

To the Victor Belong The Spoils by @powerful-owl

Hunger Games AU. Wow the writing. The characterisations. Wow. It's all perfect. Wow. Please read it. You'll love it.

Steal the air out of my lungs by nahco3

Resident doctor au. Both accurate and compelling. Max is so dear to me. And Lewis. Love of my life, ugh.

Leave this blue neighbourhood series by tiredtiredsharl

This whole series I must've read 20 times. Multi-ship, though not Lestappen. Found family. It heals me with every word, it's just 😖😖❤️❤️.

Okay that's it for now. Lmk what you think.

#lestappen #fic #ao3 #fic rec #rec list

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https-milo · 3 months ago

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Hi I was wondering if u could do a shinsou x reader x tamaki story (either separately or poly) where reader is on her period and having very bad cramps and is having a lot of mood swings

my period is bouta hit soon I can feel her presence </3 THANKS FOR THE REQUEST!!

AW, CRAMP!

Hitoshi Shinso x reader, Tamaki Amajiki x reader

(F/S) = Favorite snack

Summary Headcanons and oneshots with Shinso and Amajiki (separate)

m. list

HITOSHI SHINSO

He wouldn't ignore you per se

HOWEVER.

If you're unessccesarily mean to him, his ass WILL make you take a breather

He'll leave the room and come back with your comfort food and favorite drink, along with chocolates and a heated blanket

But before you can get them, you HAVE to apologize

Once you do, expect some quality time with him <3

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE WOULD YOU?" You shouted angrily at your boyfriend as you were curled in your bed. You hadn't moved from that position all day and Shinso was getting worried.

Taken aback, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, "Ok, see you later." He didn't bother turning back as he left the room. You started to cry. Your eyes were puffy and snot was dripping down your face but you couldn't stop crying.

"I'm so stupid! He- he- he hates me!" You sobbed loudly, curling into your balled position tighter. It had only been 10 minutes since he left, but you were feeling terribly guilty. You heard a deep sigh behind you and saw your purple-haired boyfriend with a plastic bag from the cornerstone.

"I don't hate you, babe," He sighed and sat beside you in the bed. He pulled you from your depressive curl and laid your head against his chest, not caring for the mess of snot and tears that now covered his hoodie. "I left so we wouldn't fight over something like this. Neither of us would want to say something we regret later, hmm?" He stroked your hair gently and your tears slowly stopped flowing.

"I- I'm so sorry, 'Toshi," You sniffled. "I shouldn't have been so mean."

"You're fine, princess. Don't worry. I bought you some stuff," He replied with a casual shrug. He grabbed the bag from beside him and showed you the contents. Your favorite drink, food, snacks, and chocolates were all in there. "I also warmed your heated blanket up while we were arguing." He pulled said blanket from the foot of the bed where you hadn't even noticed it.

"You're too good for me," You sobbed as you stuffed your face with (F/S).

He sighed again and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "Shhhh, pretty baby, it's okay."

TAMAKI AMAJIKI

He's tweaking out more than you especially if you raise your voice at him

He calls Hado immediately after you have a mood swing

He gets a bunch of products she recommended

He also makes sure to tidy your room so you don't cry about it being messy (has happened before)

He gets scared :(

"You hate me!" You sobbed as you threw one of the stuffed animals he had gifted you at him. He dodged it easily and tensed immediately at your aggression.

"W-what?" He asked confused. "I don't hate you."

"Yes you do! I can feel it!" You replied.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about... I'm sorry if I made you upset," He said sincerely.

You sobbed harder, "You're too good for me! Get out!" You sobbed loudly and shoved your face into your pillow as you clutched your stomach in pain.

"O-okay," Tamaki replied as he sadly left the room. As soon as he closed your door, he pulled out his phone and called Nejire. Twenty minutes later, he returned with MULTIPLE heated blankets, chicken wings, ibuprofen AND Tylenol, chocolate, and vitamins. "Hado-chan said a lot of things... so I got them all." He walked over to your bed humbly and hesitantly, worried you'd explode at him again.

You sniffled and gratefully pulled him into bed with you, embracing him tightly and apologizing profusely. "I love you so much, Tama."

He let out a breath of relief, "I'm glad. You- you're the love of my life."

"And you're mine," You said as you took the pain reliever he brought and started eating the wings.

Thank you so much for reading <3

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lovelyjj · 10 months ago

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Bodygaurd!jj with kook!reader. Hear me out at first when he gets the job he thinks she’s a spoiled brat but she’s the complete opposite. So when he first meets her he’s being really mean and she doesn’t know why. It’s a lot I know 😭😭😭

omg bodyguard!jj are you kidding?!!?! so hot! please send more bodyguard!jj ideas or concepts!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Your parents hired a bodyguard because they felt like you needed one. You were a kook princess, rich and wealthy with a heart of gold. Who knows who would try and take advantage of you or harm you in anyway.

You accepted it, realizing that your parents were only trying to protect you. You weren’t thrilled but you came to terms with it. Having a bodyguard felt like you were an actual princess.

When you first met your bodyguard you were taken back. He wasn’t very nice to you and you had no idea why.

“Hi I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” you greeted him.

“I’m JJ, but you can call me Mr. Maybank,” He grumbled.

“Oh. Okay,” you smiled trying to remain friendly.

“Well I was planning on going shopping today,” you continued.

“Of course you were,” JJ rolled his eyes.

You frowned, not sure what you did wrong to make him be so rude.

The mall was fairly crowded. You dragged JJ from store to store and he grumpily followed you around. You tried on a handful of clothes and asked JJ’s opinion which he grumbled out a “It looks terrible.”

When you were at the food court JJ let his opinions break free.

“Do you really need more clothes?” JJ scoffed.

“Probably not but isn’t it fun to shop?” you asked.

“No.” JJ deadpanned.

“Why are you such a grump?” you asked.

“Because you’re an entitled self-centered bitch.” JJ insulted.

“Oh,” you sniffled, “Um ok don’t know why you felt the need to say that but thanks for the honesty I guess.”

JJ crossed his arms and didn’t reply.

You didn’t want JJ to see you upset so you put on your brave face. You didn’t know why JJ was being so mean but it hurt your feelings. How were you supposed to get along with him with his attitude. He was your bodyguard for christ sakes, he was going to be with you all the time.

JJ truly believed what he said. He thought you were a spoiled brat. And that couldn’t be further from the truth but he didn’t care to find that out. JJ was stubborn and he was set in his ways, but he couldn’t deny you were pretty.

When you were done shopping you got a text from your mom asking if you could get groceries. You said yes of course because that’s the kind of person you are. Reliable, trustworthy, selfless.

You arrived at the store with JJ by your side.

You felt a little defeated because of JJ’s attitude towards you. But you did your best to remain positive. You went down the aisles shopping for all the items on the list your mom texted you.

JJ followed you around the store making sure you were safe because that’s his job. JJ huffed and puffed as he helped you shop still set in his ways that you’re a spoiled brat.

When you got all the things on the list JJ helped load the groceries into the car. You were walking in the street to the passenger door when a car came out of no where. JJ pushed you out of the way and held you on the sidewalk.

“Jesus christ are you trying to get yourself killed?” He yelled.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Watch out where you’re going, ok?” JJ scolded.

“Thanks for saving me Mr. Maybank” you said.

“It was nothing,” JJ shrugged.

Your bodyguard was mean to you and you didn’t have a clue why. You were hoping that one day you would get along. You had hope. Maybe just maybe your bodyguard might surprise you.

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kazperthegh0st · 4 months ago

Text

Leo realized too late that Nico di Angelo was extremely attractive.

Leo didn’t think of his friends as attractive.

Piper: angular features and gorgeous eyes and nice tits. But she was also Piper; the one who cried in his arms when she told him about her dad, the one who did his hair and nails, the one who could beat his ass. But he wasn’t attracted to her.

Jason: tall and strong and intense with a good chest. But he was also Jason; the one who saved him at the Grand Canyon, the one who never found Leo annoying, the one who died for the Prophecy so Leo could live.

And down the list of his friends. Were they gorgeous. Yes. Were they sexy. Yes. But they were his friends.

But Nico.

Nico gods.

Nico had never been the kind of guy that every camper wanted to ask out. That was always Jason or Percy. And more importantly, the campers refused to ask Nico out directly.

They had deemed Leo as the approachable one. And that was how Leo realized his best friend was so incredibly attractive.

Random campers approached him to ask him if Nico was single or straight or gay or if he’d be interested in them.

Several instances of this later, and Leo had comprised a list of responses to these questions:

“Is he single?”

“No sorry, he accidentally entered a marriage contract with the devil during a spooky ritual.”

“Is he gay?”

“Yeah sure! In the way that Viktor Frankenstein is gay: Nico is building himself a six foot tall boyfriend out of dead bodies.”

“Does he like girls?”

“Oh yeah totally. Loves ‘em. Especially virgins. He could probably use another sacrifice if youre interested in being carved open with a styngian iron sword.”

“Would he be interested in me?”

“No sorry, he prefers his lovers in the later stages of rigor mortus. If you get what im saying.”

And maybe Leo had taken it to far. Maybe he had made Nico seem too creepy. But so what. They didn’t have the balls to say anything to his face in the first place. Besides. Half the camp already thought Nico was weird and creepy; if they believed the stuff Leo had said, then they were assholes who didn’t deserve Nico in the first place.

The next time it happened. Leo snapped.

“Do you think he’d let me take him out on a date?”

“Hell fucking no! He wouldn’t let any of you assholes within twenty feet of him if he knew about this! He wouldn’t want anything to do with a shy asshole who is to scared of him to ask him out to his fucking face like he fucking deserves!”

The girl tried to stammer out a response but Leo was already marching in the direction of Cabin 13.

And then he was pounding on the big black door with his fists and all the strength he had in him.

The door opened a crack. Just enough that leo could observe an eye staring back at him through the darkness. Nico opened the door and stared at him.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” Nico was asking him so many questions and ushering him quietly into the cabin and encouraging Leo to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Nico was crouching on the ground in front of him and all Leo could think about was how pretty his face was.

Nico, who had matured into such an attractive and kind individual. Nico with gorgeous hair that framed his face. With delicate eyeliner. With pretty lips and soft cheeks that Leo wanted to press gentle kisses to.

Nico put the back of his hand against Leo’s forehead.

“You’re so hot,” Nico said.

Leo laughed.

“Not like that.” Nico sighed. “You’re burning up. Worse than a fever. Is something wrong?”

Leo nodded numbly.

“So it’s just a stress thing? Youre not burning up cause you’re sick?”

Nico sat on the bed next to him and pulled him into a hug. “Talk to me.”

“You’re a really good friend, Nico.”

“Thanks but,” Nico paused, “this isn’t about me Leo, it’s about you.”

“No.” Leo said. “It is about you.”

“It is?” Leo felt Nico start to pull away.

“No wait. Its not you. Its not I promise I just.”

“Its what?” Nico asked, cautiously.

“Half of the camp is in love with you.”

��Leo?” Nico asked. “Are you ok? When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

“No, no, listen, Im not crazy!” Leo stood and paced back and forth as he spoke. “Im not crazy. Every day for the past week there’s been at least five campers that have come up to me to ask about you. People who dont even know you!”

Lep paused to catch his breath. Then he pitched his voice and imitated the questions he’d been asked. “Is he gay? Is he interesten in me? Would he want to ho out with me? What does his ideal girl look like? What would a good date idea be? Is he single? Is he taken? Is he this is he that!”

“I’m just so sick of it. They don’t even know you and they’re to scared of you to ask you in the first place.” Leo tossed his head back and laughed. “So they come to me to ask! Because I’m your best friend. They harass me because they’re too scared to talk to you.”

“Im sorry-“ nico started.

“Don’t apologize! Its not you’re fault that they’re assholes. Its just. They dont even know you. They have this idea of who you are but its not you. Its not even close. They have no clue how kind or funny you are. They only want you because Alternative cultures are being seen as cool again.”

“They shouldn’t be bothering you.”

“They don’t know you like I know you. They don’t care about you like I do.”

“Leo, I-“

“And I’m running out of excuses— running out of things to tell them so they’ll leave me alone. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to tell them.”

“Tell them,” Nico started, his voice quiet. “Tell them that I’m yours.”

Leo stared at him.

“What?”

“Tell them I’m yours.”

“What-“

“But only if you want me to be— want me to be yours that is.”

“I- You- Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah.”

“Like for real? You want me to be your boyfriend?”

Nico nodded. He stared down at his shoes.

Leo approached him. And tilted Nico’s face up, forcing the son of Hades to look him in the eyes.

Nico’s whole face was red.

“Fuck yeah.”

#leo valdez #nico di angelo #valdangelo #pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo nico #pjo leo

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

Text

a/n: uururgghghh im starting to struggle to write i swear the next one will be a fluff one. pt.2 to this

warnings: long piece, sugar daddy!au, discussions of kinks including daddy kink, filming, cockwarming, creampies / breeding kink, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f and m receiving), phone sex, fingering, cumshots, praise, somnophilia, handjobs, size kink, lingerie, let me know if i missed anything, n*sfw under the cut

✶ NANAMI

nanami is an interesting sugar daddy. he thinks it’s bc the opportunity came so randomly that he didn’t know what to do, so he’s new to this as you’re new to him, not expecting the man to show up when you had sent a drunk email to a craigslist listing

it was amusing seeing your email, but he could tell there was at least a bit of need for some monetary assistance when u sent it in because yes, you were drunk but also the type of honest drunk that reminded him of a certain friend… you literally spelt it all out for nanami in the email

and you explicitly remember sinking into your hands when you listened to your friend to go ahead with the meeting and nanami’s small amused smile, knowing way more things about you on your first meeting just from the message

you’re nanami’s first sugar baby, so tbh he doesnt know what to expect, but if he were to actually choose, he wouldnt want a sugar baby, like geto, who is too used to being indulged and spoiled. he needs gratitude or a thank you when he buys you things and he’s okay if youre picky, just not too bc then it’s like impossible to please you

he reluctantly asks gojo about it later on and he is so annoying while explaining to nanami about sugar babies and stuff, but gojo made some pretty good points, shoving a picture of his own sugar baby into nanami’s face with a laugh and then nanami immediately leaves LMFAO

i’d say nanami is pretty lenient though, just strict about what you spend money on sometimes. like if you’re buying a 2024 diary for you to journal, he’s just going to stare at you because he KNOWS you will not keep that journal up lol (sorry to the those who like to journal ahhdhfner)

or like buying those weird expensive snacks with new, experimental flavours only for it to taste like shit and nanami has to gulp down two glasses of water after eating a bbq flavoured chocolate bar

ok im aware this would work even if he wasn’t ur sugar daddy but just pretend

nanami learns the ins and outs for caring about a sugar baby pretty fast, wiring you an allowance everyday and bringing you to events occasionally, but more importantly figuring out your boundaries and how this relationship would go about

it started off purely transactional at first, but then he starts to imagine meeting up more with you, taking you places. it happens against his will for him bc he’s seen these types of relationships fall apart, and he hates opening up to ppl in the first place. but then one day you’re telling him youre meeting with someone from university and he gets so annoyed the next time you meet up

turns out you were hoping he’d do something about it, and he did

like gojo, he wants to be a good boyfriend as he is being your sugar daddy

although he’s very stoic, you know he cares for you when he does small things like buying you the right kinds of pads, paying silently for the dinner when he goes to the “toilet”, finding jobs with you because he doesnt mind if you want to earn ur own money, occasionally buying you little things he finds in high-end stores that are not clothes that reminds him of you.

he doesn’t mind the minor dent in his account after treating you, bc he knows you’re content with already needing money for university. the extra gifts are just a bonus and it warms your heart when he does all these small things

gives you money like semi-often!! he knows you dont spend it impulsively so he spreads out the times he gives you your allowance

being his sugar baby is sooo classy like you have gotten so many tight black dresses for events that sometimes you cant find things to wear to the grocery store

goes ALL out for anniversaries always, buying you matching necklaces where he takes the other half, bouquets of flowers, that pair of earrings you were looking at the storefront

oh yea he’s always buying you bouquets, you have no idea where to put them

he’s better with larger, wearable gifts as opposed to gojo’s type of small trinket gift giving, but just like gojo he also loves getting you an initial necklace, but just for the sole purpose of showing that you belong to him. it’s cute, he finds himself staring at the N.K. on your neck every time you meet up

nanami loves his suits, but he is TERRIBLE at dressing out of them. mismatched patterns, ugly ass shoes, please save him

he lets you drag him to buy some clothes for him but whatever he swears he just looks like a grandpa. maybe it’s bc of his light coloured hair

very good at giving pointers for your style tho, so he smiles when he sees you pick a dress bc he said so, a hand dipping down to your ass to squeeze briefly

loves when you visit him in the office whenever you have no classes for the day, a cute sundress on as you bring his lunch like a cute lil wife.

he values privacy a lot and doesnt like to open up at times, so it takes a while for him to properly let you in in his insecurities and doubts. it happens at first when you realise nanami doesnt call you the various pet names he does when around ppl he knows and you bring it up and it escalated into a whole argument

you were just so close to leaving to give him his space but then he starts slowly about having people leave him before and he doesnt want to mess this shit up again. he feels you deserve better, but you told him he is better

with that, u were able to deepen ur bond, but also it allowed nanami to allow a person in his life again, letting your things take over his bathroom space and living room

the first time he considers buying a ring is when you hang off his arm and interact kindly with his clients and fellow CEOs, ignoring the strange pull of his heart. it’s like you understand the importance of

these events, and even though through knowing you and how you didnt exactly favour crowded places, you still put yourself through it

you have to catch your breath later in the bathroom and nanami’s outside, worried as hell and you tell him youre fine, but he’s not having it so u roll your eyes and exit the bathroom, shocked to see his usually calm face turned into an expression of anxiety

he says that you both will leave immediately and you protest but all he does is shake his head and drive you back. needless to say you had so much more fun watching stupid romcoms and cuddling until youre waking up in the morning to something poking you in the back and there’s this adorable flush that overcomes nanami’s cheeks lol

n*sfw hc’s below

doesnt like to jerk off normally. if he does it’s usually morning wood or after seeing a beautiful woman but he just. doesnt get those desires and the need for release. that doesnt mean hes not good at sex or whatever. hes had his days during uni and stuff, but ever since he’s started work it’s been so busy he really has no time whatsoever

sex life with nanami is sweet yet unpredictable. youve always started out slow and sensual mainly because he doesnt want to hurt you or go too roughly but one day youre bringing up how to make ur sex life more exciting and he went “i couldve done this the whole time?”

you had the best night of your life that night jus sayin!!!!

we have established this thru the fandom but nanami is a pleasure dom when it comes to you, not quite like geto who likes watching you do the work. nanami has to give you the pleasure himself

he’s eaten you out more times than youve fucked and he’s really done it everywhere. he has done it under the table when youre on a call for your class. he’s done it at event bathrooms, he’s done it at night in the park.

NOW. nanami is not big on public sex but then he sees you bend over during your picnic to catch the plastic bag and the wind blew up ur skirt and he saw ur cute little pussy under …. he couldnt resist it

likes the the possibility of getting caught, and it’s obvious you might because you r soooo wet every time he flicks at your clit

he only does it if he gets to eat you out, and if hes really needy, he’ll grant you a quickie but other than that he can hold himself back - plus you deserve better than to be bent over a bathroom sink

also loves breeding you, unprotected sex all da way. likes the way it seeps out of you and your shivers when you feel him fill you up. would get a vasectomy for you considering how much he looooves to cum deep in you

regarding the kinks you may have brought up to him it’s just hoping he’d be rougher, maybe even try some degradation, you even discussed he could use you when youre sleeping if he wanted to. other things include phone sex and the use of toys, but you mentioned that as long as you were both comfy there could always be a fun time

and bro loved it. u realise he’s only ever focused on praise on most days but when he’s stressed from work he always takes it out on you and you fuckin love it lol.

youve done it over the phone a few times but he thinks he prefers to do a video call better, but the first time he wanted to he didnt know how to switch the call from an audio to a video one and you had already came lmaoooo

you were giggling once nanami grumbled over the receiver, but you helped him easily just by talking bout how youd ride him or how youd suck his cock

10/10 that experience and being with you made him be more open to blowjobs more often, not that he didnt before! but hes always been putting you first that hes never thought much abt his own pleasure <3

warning for drabble: consensual somnophilia, no foreplay, mating press, nanami is a little rough, brief fingering and cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink

nanami comes home to your sleeping figure, calm and even breaths leaving your person with a small smile on your face and all he can do is coo, running a hand up your thigh before preparing to carry you, not expecting that when you open your legs, he sees the centre of your pants harbouring a darker, wet spot, pussy lips pulled taunt from how tight your pants were.

and the man immediately chokes back a moan, remembering the conversation after he had used you to your limit on the kitchen counter, scratching on the smooth marble surface while your face was smushed up against the flat surface. with a little grin, you wished he let out his frustrations on you more, even when you were sleeping — and what better time now that his head was close to popping a vein with how incompetent his workers were?

a moan distracts nanami’s thoughts, and among the unintelligible noises you make, he can figure out how you’re probably dreaming, cock hardening once he hears that you w’nna be filled. that is enough reason for him to unbuckle his pants with a relieved sigh, the cold air on his length making him hiss as he peels his underwear off him, length hitting his torso from how hard he was.

“you don’t know what you do t’me, baby,” nanami mumbles, pumping his cock with slow strokes before swiping your pants to the side, lightheaded from just how wet you seem to be. he drags his cock along your folds, collecting your slick on his leaking tip that mixes with the pre-cum and he groans at how you seem to drip more just from that gesture, inching his fat cock into your pliant cunt without much trouble.

you’re so tight, sucking him in the moment he’s sheathed in you until he bottoms out and you’re whining louder now, still bordering on the line of consciousness and unconsciousness. you’re clenching around him so hard that he struggles to move, until he’s feeling you grasp his arm with fatigue in your eyes.

“use me, kento—” nanami grunts at those words, pulling out just to slam back into you and the slutty moan that leaves you cuts through your slumber because nanami’s deeper than he’s ever been in you. your eyes crack open at your boyfriend who’s currently fucking into you, hips moving at a speed faster usual and you cry out when his tip kisses your cervix just barely.

“feel so fuckin’ good, just let me use you like a cocksleeve, alright?” nanami groans out, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest and the change in position makes you whine, hitting your spots so well now that you’re in a mating press. from here nanami is hypnotised with the way your juices collect on his length, the squelching noises of your sopping cunt only fuelling him on. “who’s making you feel this good, baby?”

there’s tears that linger at your waterline, struggling to even get out a coherent sentence when you’re babbling incomplete sentences and nanami smiles at the drool leaving the corners of your mouth. “you— you a-are— oh my god!”

“rub your clit for me, doll,” nanami whispers out, already feeling his orgasm approaching from how snug you were around him, and the feeling of your fingers massaging languid circles into your clit makes him grunt, and soon after that nanami cums with a loud moan, so vulnerable in that moment that his deep voice goes up a pitch as he releases in you, hot cum spilling into your womb.

you mewl from the feeling but you’re left empty when he removes his cock and dips down to latch his mouth onto your clit, shoving his fingers into your gaping hole to keep you filled. nanami sucks on your bundle of nerves until you cum with a cry of his name, toes curling on his shoulder as your slick drips down his hand. “messy, messy baby,” nanami grins, popping his fingers into his mouth before he spreads your pussy, seeing the mixture of your cum and his leak out, “let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

✶ TOJI

toji is an all rounded sugar daddy!!! boyfriend.. not so much he is a man who values work and does it well but he gets engrossed in it too much

preferences for a sugar baby vary bc theres a lot of factors involved. it’s not just one thing that he feels will dictate if he likes you as a sugar baby or not but the one important thing he doesnt like is when you dont pull your weight? if that makes sense

like not knowing what you want in life is perfectly fine but if youre just sitting on your ass and expecting money to come in it’s irksome to him, especially when hes worked his ass off to get to where he is today

he also likes it if you have a smart, snarky mouth. it amuses him seeing you flip the finger at him or tell some worker in his company off for commenting on your skimpy outfit

you two met in university. when he was younger he used to work as a professor, but now bc hes the CEO of a big company, he’s only able to handle adjunct jobs

basically he helped you out of a shitty house and stress from not having enough money, that causes you not to do your best in classes and he’s so glad he took a chance on you because he’s never seen you so bright before in class. but he couldnt stay much after taking over a CEO position, so he left in the middle of your second year

pleasantly surprised when he gets an email one day thanking him for the stuff he did for you, offers u a job at his company and from then on he says how he’d like to take care of you despite you finishing school

it also starts out as transactional but one day youre asking to meet in his office to ask why youre getting special treatment and youre telling him it’s not necessary when youre working for him now. “nonsense. i want to take care of you.”

his feelings slipped on a late night when he was working overtime and you stayed up too in order to see toji. you wouldnt admit to yourself but you liked him too. a little more than your usual crush bc ohhh lord have you seen his physique

and he comes out to see you still working and comes to annoy you and just gives you a fat stack of money out of nowhere??? hes bad with words ok

he says i mean it and waits for you to make the first move, but you dont and hes leaning forward to give you a soft kiss. ppl were confused as to why the lights of an office were still on at 3am while you were making out needily on his desk and he pulls insane orgasm after orgasm from you that day

hes a doting man, softened by the years of ageing but he works too much. it’s all he ever knows when you’re on his office couch begging him to go home.

will usually buy in lunch bc hes lazy to get it but sometimes youll cook and bring it to him too.

loves to treat you randomly, but theyre always gifts that you’re confused about bc he hasnt bought a gift for a woman in years so the first time he gifts you an air fryer (not sure why i have an obsession w/ air fryers lately) youre like ???? wtf am i supposed to do with this

and he tells you it’s u have easy access to lunch or dinner without leaving your dorms and youre like “honey i graduated already???” and he’s like oh. oh yea

poor guy did this to himself bc hes so deep in work so he doesnt see you often. he probsbly got mixed up with the days where he would meet you in between meetings and he just was there to accompany you on ur study sesh. he liked watching you study, and it would take a while for him to admit he’s actually liked you way before he offered you a job

toji gets better with giving gifts i swear. and he does it, he lovesss to order things and make the delivery man walk up to your desk with a dior box full of clothing

but sometimes he wishes he could do something more meaningful. he likes to give you SIMPLE handmade gifts. sometimes he gets so frustrated bc his fingers r so big so theyre usually easy to complete things. they’re not like of milestones or memories or photos though, more of silly things like paper rings or a paper fortune teller.

writes. a lot, more than geto. he writes more than makes gifts, and his handwriting is so messy sometimes you dont know what hes saying, but he finds that words on paper is much easier for him than voicing it out (this makes me want to write this me thinks)

so you spend a whole afternoon trying to make out what he’s saying like a detective and when sleep catches up to you he can only smile at your deciphering questions like u were trying to solve a cipher and writes you almost got this line right lolol

looks really good in suits but needs to go shopping often bc sometimes he works out too hard and his shoulders grow again at this point he should continually donate his blazers to thrift stores

sometimes he gives them to you as a jacket of some sort and he tries not to twitch from how small u look in them. the attraction goes both ways, and he wants to cuddle you up and also fuck you silly in it

always wearing that tight shirt of his that never rlly fits him. kinda mediocre and repetitive fit — he’s not exactly interested in fashion

loves to treat you to things. loves to spoil you and see you wearing the things he bought for you, but theyre more casual clothes that he spoils you with. man likes one (1) dress and he’s hoping you wear that dress of the rest of your life lol

toji buys you lingerie just to rip it. i swear :/ youre like that was the last one on the rack!!!! and hes just “ill just commission the designer to make another” like you can do that

and he says im actually not sure. oh speaking of commissions he loves to pay for custom pieces or clothing for you. he knows what he wants for you, and he backs off if you dont like it but seeing something he envisioned on your beautiful body — he just loves it

i said at the start that toji’s not that much of a boyfriend but he tries a lot. you can see he’s trying his best to make time for you in between work but it just. doesnt happen unfortunately. he works on the weekends too so sometimes your dates are compromised

youve thought before if it were to return to it being a platonic arrangement but it hurts your heart to think of that after everything youve been through. but this has been a recurring thing that’s been happening, brought up frequently in arguments as well

it was when he had a business trip on the week of your anniversary that the nail finally hit and youre bringing it up again and he knew he couldnt escape it this time bc you were close to crying when usually you dont. does this shit mean nothing to you? did you offer to pay everything for me just to throw me to the side like you always do?

the moment you see he has nothing to say bc he knows it’s true, youre leaving to get some air and it’s the first time he really understands that he wants to keep you for life that he’s making arrangements to give everyone a raise so theyd work better. and then hes taking time off work for a week

he’s still waiting worriedly for you late at night and your friend just gives toji an unimpressed look and gives you to him, breath laced with alcohol and obvious tear stains on your cheeks and he wants to die bc he was the cause of that

he feels so guilty but for now he kisses your forehead and gets you into a clean set of clothes before laying beside you to hug you close to him. in the morning youre hungover and feel like shit and youre letting toji pat your back and giving you a warm cup of water until you’re going arent you supposed to be at work????? and your boyfriend sighs and brings you into his lap, apologising into your neck as he hugs you

toji admits he hasnt been the best and is willing to do whatever it takes for you to be convinced again and you just stay like that, exchanging slow kisses and a warm embrace, unaware that there’s already an idea of putting a ring on you in toji’s mind

n*sfw hc’s below

toji loves your pussy !!!! ohh my god after that whole situation youve had more opportunities now. he had eaten you out before in his office, fucked you there but was always threatened by time. not that he cared but hes had enough of clients backing out on him so you suggested he go into meetings earlier

it came to bite you back in the ass cause you end up being horny for him multiple times and youve only able to bribe him out of meetings successfully like three times

loves any part of your body on his cock. making out? give him a handjob. eating dinner? play footsies with him and use ur feet to massage his dick. in a meeting? BLOW HIM !!!!!

another one who loves to cum on your face, but sometimes he likes to cum on your chest and tits and when you grab his cock to smother the cum on you >>>>>

he was surprised the first time you crawled under his table a minute before his meeting started and he already knew what you had in mind. he was clearly excited, getting hard almost instantly and had to mask the redness on his face with a hand

toji coughs when you first unbuckle his pants and he’s listening in to a coworker pitch a business idea, trying to keep his composure when your mouth first encloses around his tip. and u have the gall to giggle omg? he cums so hard that time he realises hes the only one left in the zoom meeting after and the other made sure to teach you a lesson after, fucking you until everything on his desk ended up on the floor. he’d have to call the company contractor to cover up the scratch marks on the floor ehehe

obsessed with how much bigger he is compared to you, always towering over your person and he has to resist manhandling you when you place an innocent hand on his forearm and ask him a question

LOVES to send you dick pics. and his are the ones where he actually knows how to pose, like palming his bulge in sweatpants when hes home and youre not

takes a pic of his actual dick under the table at work and alludes to the time you gave him a bj

his pictures are actually SO hot that youre immediately calling him up just to talk to him

you always end up getting off yourself too though, the raspy voice comin from your phone enough to make you cum

before, exchanging lewd messages and pics were a norm but now if he needs you he’s asking his driver to drive you back to his house STAT. bro needs to be in you asap

he once left an event where he was supposed to be presented with some award just bc you sent a very lovely pic of you in the dark green lingerie you bought on his black card

he fucked you so well that night you knocked out immediately and he had to clean you up, all lovestruck and soft

leans into the ‘daddy’ thing pretty okay, but hes okay if you dont use it either

agrees to be in suggestive tiktoks where they show off their man only to do something totally inappropriate so now that vid is kept in your priv collection bc it ended up being extended and became a vid of you holding your front camera up to your face with tongue lolled out and profanities leaving your mouth

he takes the phone later from you to film how his cock moves in and out of you yyuuuummm he loves it

like gojo, loves to video you because sometimes he goes on long business trips and he needs to have something to jerk off to

his favourite is when you’re on your back and he’s filming your pussy taking his fat cock, folds spreading so nicely while his cum from earlier forms a white ring around the base of his cock oh god he watches that over and over

also loves cumming in you but more of the thought of marking you compared to knocking you up

cockwarming aahhahsddj it’s one of his other favourite things to do, hiking your skirt and tears your pantyhose, sinking you down on his aching length and he just loves the wrap of your pussy around him. trust me he’s trying not to thrust up into you but youre breaking down easily and he hisses every time you shift just a little

warnings for drabble: cockwarming, daddy kink, semi-public sex (toji’s on a call and the person on the line hears), riding, clit stimulation, calls you ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink

“c’mon, tojiii, just for a while?” you pout, tugging on his arm with big doe eyes, smiling to yourself when he just sighs and mutters out a fine.

toji can’t help but smile either way, receiving the peck on your cheek with heated cheeks, but now he smiles wholeheartedly, his hard cock buried in you while you struggle not to move. there’s wireless buds in his ears, stuck in the middle of a meeting while your face is hidden in his neck, soft pants leaving your mouth.

you’re thankful the camera isn’t on at least, but you’re still at risk with the small sounds you make, trying to focus on anything but the pulsing large cock in you. you already regret asking for this when you knew he had a meeting coming up with the thought of making him crave for you. instead it happens the other way around, you begging him to move with your hips while he calmly puts his hands on them, rubbing circles into your back like it helped.

but you don’t care, not when you’re filled to the brim like this and you can’t move, so slowly you start to roll your hips, grinding onto his pelvis and you can hear toji exhale shakily, voice still firm as he agrees ro the budget the client proposed. his hand holds the back of your neck and pulls you from the embrace, setting his eyes on you with a warning but you only can shrug, lifting your hips before dropping down on his cock.

“angel…” he mutes the microphone, the man droning on about numbers and profits making his head spin when his pretty girl was deliberately ignoring his warnings, but he couldn’t blame you with how your hot, tight pussy felt around him. toji assumed his plea of that simple name he liked to call you was enough, but when he unmutes his mic, you’re pulling one side of his earbuds off, mouth close to his ears.

“please, daddy…” you mumble, still bouncing on his thick cock. by now you’ve been cockwarming him for an hour, cunt slick with juices that it drips down his balls and onto the office chair, the movement of your hips only highlighting the lewd, sopping sounds of your pussy. there’s no doubt the other man hears what’s going on but you only press on, the chair creaking below the both of you as you ride him. toji’s trying so hard not to groan himself, throat tight and uncomfortable.

“let him hear,” you whimper out, a hand reaching down to rub your clit and toji grunts at the thought of it, of you knowing you belong to him, “wan’ him to know how good my daddy makes me f-feel, mmf—”

and so he listens to you once you say that, wrapping both arms tightly around you before his hips also meet yours, your juices spurting and spilling all over from how wet you were. your moans get louder in his office while he bullies his thick cock into you, tip kissing your spots so deliciously that you can only manage one word pleas. you sink easily into him after a while before he takes the lead, fucking up into you with the sounds of his balls hitting the fat of your ass.

“my pussy’s so warm and tight. ya likin’ this huh? you little slut,” toji grins, loving how he can feel your nipples through your work attire and the stretch of your pussy on him and the shock on the other’s face. if anything, you both knew how much he wished the camera was on on toji’s side.

“y��yeah, love it s’much! gonna cum, toji—”

toji only hums, capturing your lips in a kiss and effectively swallowing your whimpers as he thrusts deeper into you, “pretty girl’s gonna cum?”

“y-yeah daddy…” he feels you nod and mumble, hands massaging your sides before he feels your pussy clench around him and you cum with trembling thighs and a lax jaw. the way you look and feel also has toji grunting out with stuttering hips and he shoots his load deep in you, sending you into a blissful, dazed state as he spills his white liquid deep down your cunt.

with a shiver, you’re catching your breath before feeling his cum spill out of you, blobs of white pooling at the hilt as you swipe a finger at it to pop it in your mouth, exchanging a grin with toji before he starts a pace again, call long forgotten and a transfer at the tip of his fingers to keep his loyal client’s mouth shut.

ty for the request muaahahahah @moonjella

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