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covenofagatha · 14 hours ago

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Four times Agatha fails at cockwarming (and one time she doesn't)

The Third Attempt

Based on the third part of this brainworm

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, cockwarming, breeding kink, spanking, jealousy, bratty!reader, light degradation, mommy kink

When Agatha comes downstairs in the morning the next weekend, wearing a purple crewneck and gray sweatpants with loose hair, you’re already awake and doing yoga in the living room in nothing but a bra and underwear.

She takes one look at you and snorts, already in tune with the game you’re trying to play. “What happened to wearing clothes while working out?”

You shoot her an impish wink from a tree pose. “Didn’t you hear, mommy? Clothes are so restrictive, especially for yoga. You want to have a full range of motion so you can bend any way you want.” Your voice drops suggestively low and she squints and nods like you’re making perfect sense.

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

Shrugging, you put your foot down and shake out your aching limbs. You haven’t done yoga in months, but you just felt in the mood for something different. Absolutely no ulterior motives whatsoever. “I would’ve done it completely naked, but that would’ve been indecent.”

Agatha actually laughs. “You—indecent? Never, honey.” You blow her a kiss as you assume warrior pose and she walks into the kitchen and you hear her pouring herself a cup of coffee.

She walks back in and takes a seat on the couch, slurping from her mug and watching you with scrutinizing eyes.

“Want to join?” you ask, a little out of breath when you finally sit down and bend your knees, pushing the soles of your feet together in the butterfly pose. Coincidentally, also giving her a perfect view of the already-wet gusset of your underwear. Even the mere sight of her is enough to get you turned on.

Agatha shifts on the couch before shaking her head. “I’m good to just watch.”

You smirk and lay on your back, legs bent in the air, and you grip your ankles in the happy baby pose. She chokes on her coffee. “Babe, can you help me for a second? I think I need to get into more of a stretch.”

“It looks good to me,” she says, voice taut, and you have to bite on your lip to stop from laughing before fixing your face into a pleading look.

“Please? I can barely feel anything. And if I can’t feel it, that means I’m not going to make any progress,” you pout. She raises an eyebrow. You both know you’re not trying to progress to anything in yoga and you’re just trying to tease her.

Because even after Agatha fucking you every single day this past week, you’re still insatiable and your need to be a brat will always prevail.

So she sighs and slinks off the couch, crawling over to you on her knees and putting her hands on the underside of your thighs, keeping her body a safe difference from yours. “Is this okay?” she murmurs and gently pushes your legs up more. You notice the pointed effort she’s making to not look down at your covered cunt that is positioned right toward her face.

“I think I need to have a deeper stretch,” you say and yank her closer by the collar of her crewneck. Her hands let go of your legs in surprise and catch herself on the floor, her face above yours and her bulge now positioned right against your pussy. She sucks in air quickly and moves to pull away, but you lock your legs around her back, crossing your ankles. “There we go.”

“I somehow doubt this is proper form,” she rasps, her gaze darting from your eyes to your lips and then back up.

You raise your hips gently and smirk. “What do you mean? Doesn’t it feel good, mommy? This is what yoga’s all about.”

Her jaw clenches and her cock twitches against you. “Oh, yeah? Yoga’s all about being a needy slut?” You gasp, heat tearing through you, and you grind up again before nodding with a grin.

“Exactly.” You peck her lips with yours. “Now it’s time for child’s pose.” You push her off you and she clears her throat before giving her cock a quick stroke through her sweats. You turn over onto your hands and knees, giving her a perfect view of your ass. She sharply inhales and you smirk to yourself before sitting back on your heels and extending your arms out.

It does actually feel really good and you can’t help but wonder how it would feel for Agatha to fuck you like this. You might not have to wait long to find out, judging by how easily affected she is.

“Agatha, can you?” you prompt and she tentatively reaches out to cup your asscheeks with both hands and rock you forward. Her labored breathing echoes through the room. “Not like that. Like, lay on me. It’s the only way you’re really going to be able to help.”

She grumbles something unintelligible, probably about how full of it you are, before you hear her scooch forward and then her weight drapes on top of you. Her loose hair spills down and tickles your cheek and her cock is pushed into the cleft of your ass. You sway your hips from side to side, enjoying the whimper in your ear.

Then you clench your cunt around nothing and she moans—heat spreads through you and pools in your underwear because you didn’t think she’d actually be able to feel it.

“Mommy,” you admonish, just because you want to push her further, “I’m just trying to get a good workout in and you’re trying to distract me by pressing your hard cock against me like that. Now who’s the indecent one?”

You can practically hear her roll her eyes before she growls, “How many times do I have to fuck you speechless before you learn to stop being bratty?”

Chuckling, you rise back to your hands and knees, moving Agatha with you as well, and you feel her cock throb. “Time for cat-cows.”

Before she can ask what that is, you arch your back and look up to the ceiling, pause for a quick breath, and then round your back out, tuck your chin inwards, and look towards your belly button. You repeat the motion over and over, essentially twerking your cunt against her throbbing cock until she grabs onto your hips with a steel-like grip.

“I think you’ve got it from here,” she gasps, pats your ass, and then stands back up. You turn over so you’re sitting on the mat and you watch her limp back over to the couch before starting to look for something.

Your brows furrow as she digs through the pillows before she whirls around to you. Her cock is prominent through her gray pants and you can actually see the outlines of the veins because of how hard she’s straining. Your mouth waters—you want her cock in your mouth right now.

“Have you seen my phone?” Agatha asks, breaking you out of your horny stupor. You shake your head. You’re not even sure you saw her bring it downstairs. “Can you call it?”

Grabbing your phone off the coffee table, you hold down the side button and make eye contact with her, a wicked grin on your face. “Call mommy,” you say.

She scoffs. “Yeah, right, that’s not my contact. You have a job, what if I called—”

“Calling mommy,” Siri says and then there’s a ringing noise from the kitchen. You wink smugly at her stunned face. Obviously you have to be very careful when checking your phone at work and you’ve definitely come close to an embarrassing moment a few times, but this was so worth it.

Agatha swallows before going to get her phone and when she comes back, she’s scrolling on it with a frown.

“Everything okay?” you ask, still on your spot on the ground.

She purses her lips and looks up to you. “You know that annual teacher thing we do?” You nod. Each year, the school Agatha works at does a gala for all the staff—super fancy, great food, even an auction. You’ve gone to the last three of them with her and you always have a fun time for the most part. “I completely forgot it’s tomorrow afternoon. You don’t have to come if you’re busy or working or doing more yoga.”

You laugh sarcastically before standing up and wrapping your arms around your middle and pushing your tits up and together so she gulps. “Will Rio be there?” you ask cautiously and she gives you a stern look.

Rio Vidal is the Biology teacher and you are absolutely convinced she has a crush on your wife. Every gala you’ve been to, Rio has found a way to steal Agatha away from you for at least half an hour and you see the way Rio looks at her.

“Yes, Rio will be there,” Agatha sighs. “And for the last time—”

“What about Wanda?” you interrupt and Agatha’s gaze narrows. Two can play this game and you know exactly the right buttons to push. “You know, the English teacher, the one with the red hair and the green eyes who always wears the most beautiful outfits?”

She nods curtly. “Why do you care if she’ll be there?”

You shrug with a simper and slowly start to sashay over to where she’s standing before perching on the edge of the couch. She arches her brow and you can see the heat in her eyes. “She’s really nice and always keeps me company when you run off with Rio, leaving me all lonely.”

Agatha’s nose flares and the vein in her head twitches. “You need to be careful,” she seethes.

“Or what, mommy? Going to punish me?” You pout mockingly, knowing you have her right where you want her. “Remember what happened the last two times you tried to cockwarm me? I bet if Wanda had a cock, she wouldn’t blow her load before she even got inside me.”

Her growl is animalistic and you think you may have crossed a line before she grabs onto your wrists, pulls you up, and then spins you around and bends you over the side of the couch. “You are such a brat,” she says and roughly spanks you, making you moan loudly.

“Fuck, mommy.”

She slaps your ass again and your hips jerk forward against the couch, your clit pulsing. “Tell me who you belong to,” she demands and you shake your head. You want her to make you say it.

Agatha chuckles dangerously before tracing two fingers up your clothed slit and pushing the soaked fabric into you. You groan and arch your back for just a bit more stimulation.

But then she spanks you again and you jump. “First, you rub yourself all over me while you’re doing yoga like a slut. And then you try to make me jealous? God, you’re really just asking for it, aren’t you, honey?”

You look over your shoulder at her and bite your lip with big, doe eyes: the picture of innocence. “Asking for what?”

She scoffs and runs her tongue against her bottom lip before spanking both asscheeks simultaneously. “Who do you belong to?” Your head drops down with a groan.

“Please, mommy, I need you,” you whine. Another spank. Your cunt is throbbing right now, absolutely aching for her cock. “I need you to fuck me so bad right now.”

Agatha soothes your raw skin. “I know, honey. I’ll give you what you want if you just tell me. Or else, I’ll just have to get creative.”

The promise makes you perk up. Your wife loves to get creative—and it can either be heaven or hell for you. The time she made you ride her while holding a vibrator to your clit until you squirted all over her was one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. Making you wear a vibrator and edging you over ten times in public and then not letting you cum until the next day was tortuous.

“Creative, how?” you ask and she spanks you even rougher than the ones before, making you yelp. Heat has flushed through you and your breathing is heavy—you know you won’t last long no matter what she does.

She hums, rubbing your ass while thinking about it. “Maybe I’ll just tie you to the bed and not touch you for the rest of the day.”

“Why don’t you show me that you can cockwarm me?” you suggest, voice thick with desire. You would do anything to get her inside your empty pussy right now. She spanks you one last time before grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and pulling you up.

“Tell me who you belong to and I will,” she says lowly and you don’t have it in you to resist anymore.

“I’m yours, mommy, I’m all yours—please, I need you so bad,” you pant and she nods in satisfaction before ordering you to get upstairs. Your panties cling to you with every step that you take and her footsteps echo behind you all the way to your bedroom.

You sit on the edge of the bed, chewing on your bottom lip, while Agatha strips off her crewneck, sweatpants, and boxers. Her cock is, no surprise, pointing right at you, hard, red, and leaking precum onto the floor. She gives herself a quick stroke and then freezes—you think she might lose it right then and there, but she doesn’t. You let out a breath of relief. It would’ve been slightly disappointing to have her not even get inside you again.

There’s something about the pressure of cockwarming that really gets to her. Every other time she has no problem fucking you.

Or maybe it’s because of the incessant teasing you give her that has consistently been proceeding it.

“Mommy,” you whine and she snorts before stalking over to you. Agatha stands over you and cups your cheek gently before roughly shoving two fingers into your mouth. You gag around them and she begins to fuck your mouth, her cock twitching and weeping onto your legs.

She pulls out and smears your saliva all over your face before climbing onto the bed and sitting next to you. She nods and you straddle her, your covered cunt finally against her bare cock and you moan at the heat radiating from it.

Agatha’s arms wrap around your back to unclasp your bra and then she slides it down your arms and throws it somewhere in the room. She reaches down to move your underwear to the side and slides her fingers through your wet folds and she tosses her head back when your wetness drips onto her cock.

She rubs your clit but you’re done waiting—you push her down so her back is on the bed and then position your entrance at the tip of her cock before sheathing her inside you in one motion. You say a silent prayer that she doesn’t cum.

You both groan and your eyes close, her cock filling you deliciously. Agatha bucks beneath you, but she doesn’t lose control.

“I’m impressed,” you tease and she thrusts sharply into you before she realizes that it only makes it harder for her too. The stretch is satiating the ache, but you need so much more, so you begin to rock back and forth slowly.

Agatha’s hands shoot out and grab your waist, stilling you. “This is your punishment,” she grits out. “Don’t move.” You pout but obey, the hunger in your cunt coming back with a vengeance. She’s so deep inside you, the tip of her cock resting against your g-spot, and tears prick your eyes with how it feels.

So it’s really not your fault when you can’t help but start to rut occasionally and she whimpers, nails digging into your skin. Her face has turned red, her mouth is open and panting, her eyes are dark and pleading.

“Mommy,” you say slowly and she whimpers. As hard as this is for you, it looks like it’s even worse for her. “Please? Can you please fuck me?”

She shakes her head with a muffled, pained grunt. “Not until you learn your lesson.”

If the lesson is that your wife is less composed than a horny teenager when it comes to you and your cunt, you think it’s safe to say that you’ve learned it. She’s going crazy right now—and all you have to do is turn the tables a little.

“I’m yours, mommy,” you say breathlessly and start to grind. Her eyes go wide and you coax your own nipples to hardness with your fingers. She instinctively thrusts up into you and you moan loudly. Her hair is sprawled out beneath her and she looks like she might cry. “These tits? All yours.” You slide a hand up to trace your lips and then suck on two fingers like she made you do earlier. “This mouth? All yours.”

The muscles in her neck are taut and she’s making even more sounds, especially when you clench around her cock to accentuate your words.

You reach between your bodies and rub your clit. “This cunt? All yours.” You make sure to press your wet fingers against her cock as you roll your hips and she bucks again.

“Honey, honey, please,” Agatha begs, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out on her chest, “you need to stop. Stop moving. Please, I can’t—”

You brush your hand against her nipple and she cuts herself off with a loud groan. “Come on, mommy. It’s okay. You can just give in and fuck me.”

She shakes her head and screws her eyes shut tightly when you lift yourself up and then drop down on her cock. “Honey,” she pleads quietly and she throbs inside you.

Leaning down, you start to pepper kisses along her collarbone and chest. “I know you need to fill me up, right? You need to breed me?”

Agatha whimpers like she’s been wounded and her cock twitches violently. You slowly inch up, feeling her veins drag against every ridge inside you and then you drop down fast and she keens, her back arching off the bed. You’re still very impressed that she hasn’t cum yet and you’re getting close as well.

“Baby, please,” she whispers, hands grappling at your waist to try and hold you still again, but it’s weak and you keep steadily riding her, “this isn’t even cockwarming.”

You muse on that and then stop, opting to just clench around her and she groans. Both of you know that you don’t need to be moving to make her cum. You swirl your tongue around her nipple and tug on it with your teeth and she squirms and breathes louder. “I need you to fill me up, mommy,” you whine and she sobs before bucking up just once. “I need you to breed me. Need you to breed my hot, wet cunt that’s all yours. It was made for you, mommy—I was made for you.”

“Oh, fuck—honey, fuck,” she babbles and her cock swells. A thrill runs through you and you clench involuntarily. “Gonna breed you, mommy’s gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be so full of me.”

Tension builds in your lower back and you decide to give her what she needs. “Cum for me, mommy,” you say hoarsely, rocking your hips and scraping your teeth against her breast and her cock throbs before she lets out a long, guttural cry of relief and you feel her hot seed paint your walls white.

She flips you onto your back so she’s on top and starts thrusting wildly into you through her orgasm, finding your clit and rubbing it while she sucks on your nipple, and you can feel her cum being pumped into you and then leaking out.

“Fuck, mommy,” you whine and she’s getting softer but she doesn’t stop until you cum too, adding to the mix of fluids seeping out of your cunt and onto the bed.

Agatha collapses on top of you, pressing kisses to your sweaty forehead and then she finds your mouth and she tugs on your bottom lip. Your limbs are entangled and both of you are sticky now, but you lay like that for a few minutes, just soaking each other in until she finally sits up and pulls out of you. There’s a gush of cum from your pussy and you weakly hump up against nothing when you watch Agatha’s cock twitch.

“Little Aggie did such a great job making it that long,” you mumble, still slightly delirious from your intense orgasm.

Your wife chokes and looks down, flabbergasted. “What did you just call my cock?”

You giggle. “You don’t like it? I think it’s cute.”

“Little Aggie? She’s not even little,” Agatha scoffs. “And I’d like to point out that if you had actually cockwarmed me correctly instead of moving around and talking, I would’ve lasted even longer.”

“Pfft,” you wave dismissively. “Please, you never stood a chance, you can’t blame that on me. Not my fault you’re too desperate for me.”

She leans in to kiss you, long and slow. “It’s all your fault.”

“You know what?” you ask, breaking away and resting your forehead against hers. “I think I’ll take full responsibility for that. And don’t worry about failing again. There’s always next time.”

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#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut

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writeriguess · 1 day ago

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hiii can i request katsuki x reader where they call each other by their first names for the very first time?

Say It Again

The rooftop was quiet except for the faint hum of the city below, a distant melody of cars, chatter, and the occasional siren. The night sky stretched endlessly above, painted in hues of deep blue and black, speckled with stars that flickered like tiny embers.

You sat beside Bakugo, the cool concrete beneath you barely noticeable as you stretched your legs out. The two of you had ended up here after a long day of training, neither quite ready to return to the dorms just yet.

Bakugo leaned back on his hands, his usual scowl slightly relaxed, though his sharp red eyes remained fixed on the skyline. It was rare to see him like this—silent, still, almost peaceful.

You took a deep breath, the crisp air filling your lungs before exhaling softly. "Tired?" you asked, glancing at him.

He snorted. "Tch. As if. I don’t get tired that easily."

You smiled, already expecting that answer. "Right, right. Pro Hero Bakugo never gets tired."

His lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smirk, but he didn’t say anything.

Silence settled between you again—not awkward, but comfortable. You’d known Bakugo long enough to understand that he wasn’t one for useless conversation. Being able to sit beside him, enjoying the night without the need to fill the air with words, was something you had come to appreciate.

Still, there was something different tonight. A shift in the air between you.

You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, hesitating before you finally spoke.

“…Katsuki.”

The name felt foreign on your tongue, almost strange to say out loud.

Beside you, Bakugo stiffened.

You felt your heart lurch at his reaction. Maybe you shouldn’t have said it. Maybe it was too—

“Say it again.”

His voice was quiet, but there was something intense beneath it.

You swallowed. “…Katsuki.”

His breath hitched, barely noticeable, but you caught it. His gaze snapped to you, and for once, he didn’t try to mask what was in his eyes—shock, confusion, and something else. Something softer.

You bit your lip, suddenly self-conscious. "Sorry, I—"

"Don't apologize, dumbass," he muttered, running a hand through his messy blond hair. "It's just… no one's ever called me that. Not like that."

Your brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Your mom, Kirishima, they—"

"They’re different." He exhaled sharply, as if frustrated by his own inability to explain. "They've always called me that. But you… you never have."

He was right. You’d always called him Bakugo, or Blasty, or even just "angry Pomeranian" when you wanted to push his buttons. But his first name? Never. It felt too personal. Too close.

And yet, you had wanted to say it.

You watched him carefully. "Do you… not like it?"

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. "Dumbass, if I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have told you to say it again."

A laugh bubbled up in your throat at that, and the tension between you lessened just a little.

"Alright, alright," you teased. "Katsuki."

This time, his ears turned red.

"Shut up," he grumbled, looking away.

You smiled, leaning back against the rooftop railing. It felt nice. Natural, even. Like something had shifted between you in a way that couldn’t be undone.

And then—

"Y/N."

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, you turned to him, eyes wide.

He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the skyline. But his fingers were curled into fists against his thighs, his shoulders tense.

"Katsuki…" you breathed.

His jaw clenched. "Yeah, yeah. I said it."

You barely heard him over the pounding of your heart. He had never called you by your first name before—not once. It had always been “dumbass,” “extra,” or some other gruff nickname. But now…

"Say it again."

His head snapped toward you, eyes narrowing. "The hell? Why?"

You grinned. "Because I like it."

His breath hitched. He looked away again, rubbing the back of his neck. "…Y/N."

The way he said it, so raw, so unguarded, sent warmth flooding through your chest.

"Mm," you hummed, nudging him with your shoulder. "I could get used to that."

"Yeah?" His voice was quieter now.

You nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah."

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—

"Just don’t expect me to say it all the damn time."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Wouldn’t dream of it, Katsuki."

He groaned, but there was no real annoyance behind it. And even though he looked away, you didn’t miss the small, rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The night stretched on, the stars above twinkling like they approved of whatever had just changed between the two of you.

And neither of you wanted to leave.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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twistedpink · 1 day ago

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Ask 2/2

Friendzoned Leona trying to get OUT! Let him smash!!!

I can see a new thing (like sneaky link but more comical) being friendzoned and trying to escape for the guys.

LET HIM SMASH!! This was so fun

Friendzoned!Leona is shamelessly obsessed with you, and he hates it. Hates that he can’t treasure you like you deserve- That he’s been pushed aside again and again just for you to seek out bottom of the barrel herbivores to warm your bed and share your time. Hates that he’s been left hungry, and that you have the power to fix it. You know it, even going as far to tease him! He hates that you’re so clever..

Friendzoned!Leona that’s domestic and shit for you- because that’s what friends do, don’t they? But your other friends don’t order breakfast just the way you like, or smother you in muscle to will you for a nap. You’re pretty sure his friends don’t get that treatment,, He’s even wormed his way into sharing a bathroom! It’s so convenient, and you’re the one making it weird when you shame him for walking around shirtless. It’s his damn room, so aren’t you being a bad friend for taking up a perfectly communal space? Don’t be shy, you’re used to taking eyefulls of your other friends- How’s he any different?

Friendzoned!Leona’s tired of all your gossip and whining,, Wouldn’t you rather take your mind off it? His hand sneaks beneath your waistband, and he kisses you breathless - You say he’s beautiful. That he’s someone’s perfect match - and he’s pushed away. Like he always is, because there’s bound to be someone better. Some.. soulmate that you click with, kind and handsome,, He’s right here. You just don’t see it. It’s not like you’re taking advantage of the guy! Friendzoned!Leona just has needs that you’re,, a little unfit for. Getting into relationships is supposed to be a magical thing! Sure you cuddle, and kiss, and hang out all the time, but you could never do that with a boyfriend! You’d be too busy cuddling, and kissing, and hanging out.. Damn it. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way- After all, you’re such great friends! Why ruin it with labels?

Friendzoned!Leona is without a doubt, your best friend. He might not seek you out as much as you’d like, but he cares in his own way! It’s inevitable that your boyfriends go to him for advice, and isn’t he so helpful? Telling them exactly how you like to be touched, what makes you roll over or bare your fangs.. There’s no way he’s the reason your relationships are so short lived! They’re just jealous of your friendship,, It’s not his fault he’s such a good rebound >:(

Friendzoned!Leona’ll always be there for you, so there’s no need to worry your pretty head about it! When you wake up beside him after a movie marathon just don’t mind him reaching for your phone. Oh, that guy ghosted you? It’s not that weird- It’s not like he knew you. At least, not like Leona, because there’s no one who knows you that well. Keep playing footsies with him under the covers, and one day something’s bound to snap.. He’s a very patient lion, so he’s sure you’ll enjoy the change when the time comes. For now, can’t you lay off the dating? For a friend? <3

#twst yuu #disney twst #twst #disney twisted wonderland #yuu twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst x reader #leona twst #leona kingscholar #leona twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader

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lostbookmark · 3 days ago

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MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

Jin slides a dish of vanilla ice cream to you. You smile when you see he remembers the extra sprinkles on top. Yoongi has taken a play out of your book and has been actively avoiding you since your conversation at his house two weeks ago. Every day, you watched out your window from your living room, hoping that he would come over when he returned home from work. He never did. Why was he so upset? Why was he so offended that you didn't want to sell the recipes to the farm? It's not like you were hurting the farm financially. They were doing perfectly well before you came along. They didn't need your bread or jam to be successful. It really shouldn't have mattered that you said no. You regret even agreeing to bake for them in the first place.

“Was I stupid for not selling the recipes?” You ask Jin, who is leaning on the counter in front of you with his own dish of ice cream.

“No, they mean something to you, and you shouldn't feel bad, ” he assures you. “Anyone of us could have talked to you about it. We are all at fault for this whole mess. I don't know why he is taking it so hard.”

“I feel like I've fucked everything up,” you say shoving the sweet cold ice cream in your mouth. As you chew on the colorful sprinkles the bell above the door jingles catching your attention. Hobi walks into the cafe and sits on the stool next to you as he steals a spoonful of your dessert. Your friendship with him went back to normal in a blink of an eye. It wasn't long after you both apologized that Jin and Namjoon sent you their own apologies. They didn't try to come up with excuses for Yoongi or try to make you feel bad. They were simple heartfelt apologies that you accepted right away. “Jimin and Tae even texted me asking why I was making a big deal out of it. They made a whole group chat with the three of us so they could gang up on me together.”

“Really?” Hobi asked, surprised, and you nodded.

“I'll have a talk with them later,” Jin comments, shaking his head.

“I…I just feel like I was back on track with my life, settling in nicely, and now everyone hates me,” you cry. Tears fall down your face that you quickly wipe away with your sleeve. “With the way everything has been going, I wouldn't be surprised if Kook doesn't evict me.”

“He would never do that to you. No one hates you,” Jin said, patting your head as if you're a child.

“It's all going to blow over,” Hobi said, hugging you.

“It's too late. Yoongi is clearly talking shit about me, and now everyone is going to choose sides. Jimin warned me not to let this get messy and look at us. I was so stupid to get involved with him,” you say, shaking your head disagreeing with them. “I've talked to my one and only friend from my old school district. They have a third grade teacher leaving next year. I think I'm going to take the position.”

“No, you're not,” Joon said, coming into the cafe with that damn bell jingling behind him. “We are not going to let you run away. I'll reject your resignation, and I won't give you any recommendations.”

“You would really do that to me?” You ask as he sits on your free side.

“Absolutely,” Namjoon said. “You belong here with us….you're family. Yoongi is stubborn, and so are you. Let things settle down, talk it out, and we will all move on.”

“What if we can't agree on things?” You ask, stirring the ice cream around in your bowl. “He doesn't seem to be in a rush to talk to me. He's had two weeks to talk to me. It's not like he doesn't know where I live. What if there is no fixing this?”

“What if?” Jin asks as he stares off into space as if he’s deep in thought. “What if…”

“What if what?” Hobi asks, smacking the counter, knocking Jin out of his daze.

“What if you sell the recipes to Tannie Farms, but make everything yourself?” Jin asks, looking at you curiously before breaking out in a wide smile.

“I'm not following,” you say, and your other two friends seem just as confused. The three of you in front of the counter look at each other as if Jin has gone insane. “His whole point was that I couldn't make everything myself. I can't supply you with the amount you would need.”

“I don't want to run the cafe anymore. I want to make the food I want to make,” he explains, turning serious. “Think about it, Y/N. A restaurant and bakery. Yours and mine….mine and yours. Ours. People from all over would flock to us.”

“That's….not a bad idea,” Joon said, looking at you with a surprised look on his face. Now, you are looking at him like he is the crazy one. “You would have multiple ovens big enough to make the quantities we need for deliveries, and the recipes would be safe with you. You wouldn't be selling them to strangers.”

“Okay, what about my job? Do I just give up on teaching and throw away my degree that I worked hard for? I am still paying off my student loan. I don't have the money to help you start a restaurant and bakery,” you tell them, pushing your dish of melting ice cream away. “I don't even know if I can make anything else. We can't run a bakery on one cake, bread, and a couple of jams.”

“Yoongi says he's willing to talk about it,” Hobi says, holding up his phone. You glare at him, that traitor. You knew he loved Yoongi more. “You wouldn't have to put up any money because Tannie Farms would own it. Financially, you wouldn't be on the hook for anything.”

“So, I would work for Yoongi,” you say, sounding very unamused as you take in their faces, looking excited at the possible new venture. Shaking your head, you wave your hands in front of you, showing that you were not interested. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“Please, please. Don't crush my dreams,” Jin begs, hands pressed together underneath his chin. “We could be successful. You would work for all of us, not just Yoongi. I don't want to work for my parents forever.”

“You'll have plenty of time to find more recipes and experiment,” Hobi assures you. “The whole process will take time. Months, if not years. You can do it.”

“You wouldn't even have to talk to Yoongi. Jin will handle everything, and all of us are available if you need anything. I think that you definitely can do it,” Joon says, agreeing with Hobi.

Can you? Can you do it? In theory, yes, you probably could. Your grandmother has so many different recipes that you haven't even explored yet. It's the whole working for your friends and Yoongi that is causing you to question this new business opportunity. Could you handle working for Yoongi after everything happened? You're not sure if you can or even want to. To actually work for them puts your entire livelihood at risk. If you get involved, fully involved, there is no way you could walk away at the drop of a hat if things get rough. It was a major commitment.

“Please?” Jin said, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please, I'll love you forever. I wouldn't even dream of doing this with anyone else. We would work so well together.”

“Okay,” you give in and smack the counter with your hands, causing them to smile at you. “I guess I will be willing to listen to a full-on business plan when you have one. A complete business plan and not just an idea. However, that's all for right now ….I'll listen and consider.”

“Great! We are going to be great together,” Jin exclaims. “I need to get a menu around. Jolly Jin’s Cafe and Bakery. I can see the sign now.”

You sigh as you watch him run back into the kitchen. You think you're getting a headache.

Pulling back into your driveway, you notice Yoongi's house is dark like it has been recently. You barely even see the lights on for an extended period of time in his home at night anymore. You wonder if he kept the same routine he had when you would stay over. Dinner in the kitchen preceded by sitting in the living room curled up on the couch, reading a book. You would have been tucked into his side watching tv or scrolling through your phone as his eyes flew over the pages of his book. Sometimes, the nights would end with him pinning your against the couch cushions or scurrying upstairs quickly and into the bed. Now, those nights are over and gone with one stupid fight.

Sniffling, you blink away the unshed tears. It was then that you noticed the car parked along the side of your driveway. Looking over to your house, you stare at Changkyun from your driver's seat as you throw your car into park as he stands on your porch waiting for you. There was no reason for him to be here. He made it very loud and clear that the two of you were over. Getting out of your car, you stand rooted in your spot just looking at him. You are not willing to walk up to him. He seemed to take the hint and walked off your porch in your direction. Closing your door, you cross your arms and wait with baited breath as he nears.

“You look good,” he says, once reaching you.

He still looked good, too. Handsome as ever with that damn sharp jawline that you had fallen for in the beginning. It pissed you off. You want him to look guilty. You want him to look sad and tired. You want him to apologize for all the shit he put you through. For making you feel like you had to push your friends away. For making you feel like you were not good enough for him. However, he doesn't. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world.

“How did you find me?” You ask, taking a step back away from him. A part of you wonders if you can jump back in your car and drive away quickly.

“I went to your parents' house, and your mom told me where you were living. I really need to talk to you,” he says.

“I think you said plenty when you said, and I quote ‘I don't love you anymore’,” you tell him. “I don't think that there is anything left to say. You wasted your time coming here.”

You push past him, but he reaches out and grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving. You pull out of his grasp and glare at him. You don't want him to touch you. You don't even want to look at him. Crossing your arms, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’m really trying to be civil about this, Y/N,” he said. “I just want my engagement ring back.”

“Why now?” You ask with a laugh. “What, are you getting married sometime soon?” He looks away, not able to look you in the eye. Your jaw drops in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? I've only been gone for a few months and you're engaged. Who?”

“It doesn't matter who. Just give me the ring, and I'll be gone out of your life forever,” he says harshly.

“Tell me who,” you demand. You notice Yoongi pull into his driveway with perfect timing. Great, just great. This day just couldn't get any better. “You owe me that much.”

“Hanna,” he said quietly, looking down at his shoes as you hear Yoongi's car door open and close in the background.

Hanna, the one who you caught him in bed with. The one who you thought was one of your friends. You see Yoongi linger by his kitchen door in your peripheral vision after he slowly made his way up the steps to his house. You turn your head to look at him. Unfortunately, it triggered Changkyun to do the same. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed.

“Baby, I wish I could change things,” he said in a sickeningly sweet, smooth voice. “I know we were so good together at one point, but that ended. I’ve moved on, and you need to accept that. It's time for you to move on as well.”

“Don't call me that. You need to leave. I'm not giving you anything,” you hiss at him and turn to leave.

“That ring is mine,” he growled at you, grabbing onto you again and pulling you to him. You stumble over your feet as he pulls. “Just give it to me.”

Before you can even comprehend what was happening, Yoongi was in between the two of you. He gives Changkyun a forceful shove, making him stumble backward away from you. Yoongi reaches behind his back and pulls you behind him more, shielding your body. Protecting you. Keeping you safe.

“Just go,” Yoongi growls at him, and Changkyun just laughs at him. “It's clear she doesn't want you here. Get in your car and get the fuck out of here!”

“You think I'm afraid of you?” he asks, looking at him with a distasteful look before looking over Yoongi's shoulder at you. Changkyun laughs at the two of you, shaking his head in amusement. “Min Yoongi? Really, that’s the best you can do? Fuck, are you that desprate?”

“Well he's a million times better than a selfish jackass I know. I don't have the ring anymore, so just leave,” you yell at him from behind Yoongi.

“Where is it?” he snaps at you.

“Watch how you fucking talk to her,” Yoongi snaps back at him, still holding you behind him.

“I pawned it,” you laugh from behind the blonde man, making Changkyun narrow his eyes at you. “It bought me a lovely tv hanging on my wall right now. It's much more pleasant to look at than that ugly ass ring.”

You watch as Changkyun clenches his jaw and stomps away back to his fancy SUV. He stops halfway to his destination before turning back to look at both you and Yoongi. Changing his mind, he walks back toward you. Yoongi reaches back again, making sure that you're still tucked away safely behind him.

“You know,” he says, approaching you. “I never wanted to marry you. I only asked becasue you wouldn’t fucking stop nagging me about it. You were never good enough to be my wife, you stupid…”

That was enough for Yoongi as something inside him snapped. You watch in horror as he throws himself at Changkyun, taking them both onto the hard ground below their feet. It probably would have been comical watching two grown men roll around on the ground had they been strangers, but they weren't, and they were both pissed. This wasn't funny at all. You watch on, with your hands in front of your mouth in shock as Yoongi, who comes out on top lands a punch to Changkyuns stomach from above making him double over and turn slightly away from him. Changkyun, although laid out underneath the pissed off blonde, he wasn't deterred for too long. Using all his power, he spun his torso around quickly, elbowing Yoongi in the face and successfully knocking Yoongi off of him.

“STOP IT!” You yell out into the evening air as Yoongi lands on the ground next to your ex-boyfriend. They didn't listen to you. Changkyun stands, quickly grabbing Yoongi by the back of his jacket, bringing up on his own feet and bending him down low enough to knee him in the side, making him drop again. Yoongi's knees hit the ground hard before catching himself with his hands so he didn’t fall flat on his face. “CHANGKYUN STOP IT! STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You scream at him as he goes to grab Yoongi again.

You push forward, latching onto Changkyun’s arm, trying to shake him off Yoongi. Unfortunately, he wasn't discouraged and managed to get Yoongi back up. Grabbing his wrist, you pull as hard as you could, but he was much stronger than you. Instead, you sink your nails into his skin, dragging them across his flesh, leaving angry red lines in their wake. Changkyun growls. With his free hand, he pushes you away, causing you to stumble back and fall on your ass.

“Keep your hands off her,” Yoongi barks sharply.

Gaining some strength, Yoongi sweeps Changkyun's leg, causing them both to fall once more upon the ground. They roll around a couple of times, trying to each gain the upper hand. You scooch back on your butt trying to stay out of the way.

“She deserved it,” Changkyun growls, pinning Yoongi underneath him. They are both panting, but Changkyun smirks in victory as he looks down at Yoongi. “You think you're so tough. Fucking Min Yoongi, you ain't shit!”

You're too focused on watching your ex pull his arm back for a punch, you hardly register the footsteps quickly running up the driveway until an extra body jumps on Changkyun’s back pulling him off of Yoongi. Jungkook wraps his arms fully around him, dragging him back and away from the hurt man on the ground. Changkyun struggles with your friend, trying to get out of his hold. Tae jumps in quickly, getting in front of them just in case he breaks away and helps Jungkook push Changkyun back until they get him to his car.

“Yoongi,” you cry out, throwing yourself next to him as he struggles to get himself onto his knees.

You grab on to him gently and bring him close to you. He rests his head on your chest as he tries to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him. You stroke his hair with your hand, hoping desperately that he was okay. You see him close his eyes, taking in your touch. You wish you knew what else to do. You wish you could take everything back. You wish for a lot of things.

“You're both pathetic and deserve each other,” Changkyun yells out before finally getting into his vehicle, slamming his door shut in anger.

“Go, before we call the police,” Kook said, pointing to the end of the driveway.

Changkyun backs out of your driveway and squeals his tires before racing away, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind in the air. You watch him drive away until his tail lights disappear in the rapidly darkening horizon. Tae comes over and helps Yoongi stand on his own feet. You slowly get off the ground and stand beside them, waiting for someone to say something. Carefully, you place your hand on Yoongi's shoulder, but he instantly shrugs it off. That hurt. You can feel your heart drop down to your stomach. It's really over.

Yoongi and Taehyung take off, walking to his place while holding his side and slightly hunched over. Jungkook approaches you, and the two of you stare at each other. He looks sad. It's been weeks since you last talked to him. He's probably been actively avoiding this whole mess. You know he would never want to choose between you and Yoongi like Jimin and Tae apparently did.

“I should go with them,” he says, jerking his thumbs to the house next door. He's choosing Yoongi, and your heart breaks a little. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer with a nod. You don't blame him for wanting to leave. They were his brothers. You, you were the bitch he was renting his house to. The bitch who they can't make money off of. “Yeah.”

You turn and go to your house before he can even walk away or say anything more. Unlocking the door, you enter your house and slam the door shut, making the blinds on the kitchen windows shake and rattle. It wasn't going to work. The business plan wouldn't work. Your friendships weren't going to work. This small ass town wasn't going to work. You grab your phone from your bag. Pulling up Joons contact, you open a new message.

I’m taking the third grade job. I'm sorry I can't do this.

You can't. You won't.

Tagged Readers:

@mar-lo-pap , @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822 , @busanbby-jjk , @pitchblack0309 , @bluesiebirdie

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 days ago

Note

Hello can I have an ask about reader who came from our world who is a big fan of predators who can read, write and speak their language and fight like them too gets teleported to yautja prime and I guess she was looking around for shelter and she found a clan so she entered their clan grounds hoping she doesn't get killed and she found a pyramid (from what I remember seeing in one of the movies) which turns out to be where the clan has its important meetings. And the elder clan leader let's call him Kar'dokh (if you don't mind) was having meeting with other nearby clans so reader accidently enters the meeting room filled with other clan leaders and their most trusted soldiers standing by their side and the silence was LOUD

Reader: ....

Kar'dokh and the other clan leaders: ....

*Kar'dokh gets up about to kill her*

*Reader speaks in yautja*: wait I mean no harm I swear!!

And like all of the yautjas were flabbergasted to find this out and they were suspicious of her cause how does a human know so much about their people? (cause in the world no human ever went to yautja prime) so word got out and everyone wanted to see the human including people from other clans, so fast forward reader and kar'dokh got close -e ends up liking her try's courting her but she pretends to be oblivious to it

Kar'dokh: ooman

Reader: yes?

Kar'dokh: why do you refuse to be my mate? Am I not a worthy enough male for you? I have you know I have strong seed to sire strong pups so why do you refuse me?

Reader: what...? What do you...huh? Kar'dokh you are an alien I wouldn't even be able to give you children!

Kar'dokh: my people's technology can fix that issue so be my mate

Reader: I... I can't

Kar'dokh: and why not?

Reader: because I'm human!!!

Kar'dokh: not valuable reason. Try again

Reader: why do you even like me!?!? Kar'dokh: because I am attracted to you

Reader: *tip toe’s and manages to grab him by the shoulders* raise your standard!!!!

Kar'dokh: *slams hand into metal and puts a deep dent into it then proceed to grab her by the risk*

AND BOOM he pounces on her, corners her against the wall gets her to confess her feelings and they do the super Spicy boombayah doggie style😉

And she somehow got pregnant a few days later

SORRY FOR IT BEING LONG!!!!!

To Another Realm

Pairings: Kar'dokh (male yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5271

Summary: After being transported to another realm where yautjas are real, you learn to survive. With the help of Kar'dokh. A clan leader of a strong tribe. If it wasn't for him, you would've been long dead your first day. Close proximity and his help made the two of you grow close. To the point there was no space between you two.

Author Note: IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS. I've been so busy. Work just changed my 6-2 to a 10-6 and I'm now moving an hour away. So I'll be taking a small break as well for that for writing probably. Maybe... I don't know.

Also! I do have a patreon now: link There are three tiers. Those get the post earlier. Everything will still come out. I'm tweaking things as I go.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind rushes passed you. The ground comes and meets your face with a dull thud. Blackness is all you see.

A throat-tearing gasp wracks your body. You sit up rapidly and start to violently cough, trying to figure out how to steady your breathing. It takes a moment to steady yourself enough to wipe away the tears from your face and gaze around. What you saw wasn’t what you were expecting.

Jungle. Tall, lumbering trees towered high above you. Heat and humidity smacked you in the face. The air was hard to breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen, like you had been shoved onto of a mountain without any time to acclimate. You struggled to your feet and glanced around. The area felt weird. It was as if your internal compass was thrown off completely.

Where were you?

Only thing you could feel besides the confusion was dread. A heavy thing to sit in the pit of your belly, weighing you down. You placed over your heart and took in deep, calming breathes. A difficult thing to do when it feels like you’re slowly suffocating. You pushed through the dread and began to move in a random direction. There had to be some sort of clue to as where you are… and how you got here. The last thing you say doesn’t correspond to waking up in a forest!

Due to the lack of air, you could only walk at a moderate pace. That already had you panting slightly. The terrain was rough and unsteady. Thick foliage, fall giant trees, wide creeks, and boulders made the trip all the more difficult. You had to push forward though and find some sort of clue. Sweat and humidity sticks to your skin like a sheet. Your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. No matter how much you pulled the drenched clothing away from your skin.

Hours, or what felt like hours of traveling, later, you spotted something through the foliage. It rivaled the trees height. A structure! You immediately started to quickened your pace and race through the foliage, not caring if the branches tore at your clothing and skin. You panted heavily by the time you pushed past the lush bush. You stood there and dragged your gaze up, up, up until you find the top. It was a pyramid. A pyramid in the middle of the jungle. Was this somewhere that had Aztec or Mayan buildings? That’s all you could come up with.

It was in pristine state, as if you had been transported back in time. Like this was the day it was built. You can’t recall anything from anywhere that had something like this. With your heavy breathing, you had to stand there for at least ten minutes, under a tree, catching your breath. The sun was harsh. It felt like you were in a desert, in middle of the day. It nearly burned your skin by standing out in it for a short period of time. You glanced at the building after catching your breath once more. You wanted to go inside. Who knows what’s beyond its walls? Could be an earth shattering record?

With a deep breath you pushed onward and stepped into the blazing sun. Even the intensity felt off, the rays as well. Yet, you didn’t have an idea on what is happening. Besides this being a terrible dream. Stuck in a hot, humid jungle with no phone, no map, no clue where you were. A hopeless situation to be put into with your lonesome.

Large stairs that reached your knees slowed your ascend. Halfway up, you had to stop and take a moment. “This. Is. Bullshit,” you muttered to yourself then continued up the stairs. The material was textured and a deep ruby red with blocks of black. It was beautiful despite you sweating all over it. Does a dream really make you sweat this much?

By the time you had reached the top steps, you feel faint, ready to fall back down the stairs you just climbed. You stumbled your way into the entrance, thankful for the cover. The sun had done a number on your skin. The heat that radiated off of you could make water boil off of you. Your back touches a wall before you slide down to sit. Your legs were more than thankful for the rest. There had to be at least on-hundred steps. Minimum. It was worse since they were made for bigger people.

All because you wanted to see the inside. This better be worth it.

Once you felt stable, thirty minutes later, you weakly stood up. Your legs wobbled when you took a step. You continue on and follow your way inside. Only to realize it had a stairwell. You growled and glared at the damn thing. Then, you take the slow and approach of climbing down each step. It wasn’t much to complain about. Only about two flights until you reached the first floor. Now, it was time to explore.

There was something in the air that had you on alert. Either from the creepiness or from the fact you felt like you were crossing into forbidden territory. You tread quietly, peered around corners before doing down that hallway. The place felt like a maze, meant to drag you deeper and deeper into the depths. Until you from yourself all the way at the bottom level.

That; s when you realize that the only reason you’re able to see is from fire lamps. Lamps that have to be lit by someone. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the walls. In your blind stupor, you didn’t think to look at the walls. Walls that are decorated with stone carvings. Carving that made you think of the movie ‘AVP’. This is really a dream.

You walked up to the carving and gently ran a hand over the smooth stone. Beautiful work. Someone had poured their heart into the crafting a story into the stone. Your gaze drifts over the art work and followed the story down the hallway. All the way to a grand door at the end of the hallway. It was too carved with a mixture of stone, word, and some sort of ore. You stopped in front the door with your jaw dropped.

Curiosity got the best of you. Both of your hands were place on one of the doors.; With all of your weight and strength, you pushed open the door. Your head was ducked down as you struggled the entire time. Just enough until you could slip between the new crack. You stepped into the room and instantly freeze on the spot. That dreadful feeling only intensified… tenfold. You picked up your head and had to cut off a gasp.

Tens of eyes stared at you bright, fierce gazes that looked ready to tear into you. Your muscles locked in place as you stared out at the group. You recognized them. Yautjas. These were Yautjas. Twenty or so. All of them staring at you. Your heart pounding in your chest, trying to escape from the situation you’ve put yourself into.

At the end of the long, formal table, one grand looking Yautja stood up abruptly. Others following suit. The first on marched around everyone and advanced swiftly towards you. You stumble backwards and smacked into the closed door behind you.

Two long blades slid out and glinted off the low light from the fire lamps. Your eyes about bulged out of your head as you looked at the approaching Yautja. Seeing them in movies was far different than seeing on in person. Not that you ever thought you would see one like this. Your hands lifted up in a complacent manner, as if you were trying to call down an angered animal.

“Wait!” you screamed, using a language you never though to use. The Yautja stopped in his tracks his muscles tense. Everyone else pausing as well. “Don’t… don’t kill me.” The unused language was choppy on your tongue. You never thought you would ever use it. Not that you had anyone to use it with.

Surprise over took his anger in the moment. His eyes roamed from head to toe. “You spoke.” It was a statement rather than a question. The words takes a long few seconds to register in your brain. A bit of excitement flares to life inside of you at the knowledge you understand him.

Timidly, you nodded your head. “Yes. Did. Not well.” You did your best to communicate with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas behind him glanced at each other, confusion evident in their eyes. Some looked angry. One stepped out from the group and tried to bypass the main Yautja standing less than ten feet from you. He sticks his arm out and stops the other one.

“No, Taural,” he growled but didn’t let his bright vibrant eyes off of you. You felt like a deer in headlights, just waiting for them to do something. For them to decide your fate. There was no running, no fleeing. You couldn’t outrun them, there was no chance of escape. You had to think smart.

The one he stopped snapped his head towards the larger male. “It’s a ooman, Kar'dokh! On Yautja Prime. It needs to be killed,” Taural spat at the brown Yautja. Your heart leapt into your throat. Kill you?! But-but, you’re not a threat, you have no weapons. They have no reason to kill you!

“No.” Such a firm statement that left nothing to be argued. “Return to your seats. Now.” A command that left everyone only to followed. They followed his order with little resistance. Some glanced back at you with murderous intent. Part of you was thankful for the mercy while the other was afraid what he might have in store for you.

Kar'dokh approached you once more with a stern look in his eyes. Instantly, like a cornered animal, your first thought was to throw a punch. But, you didn’t want to give a reason to kill you. Don’t be a threat. He stopped directly in front of you. A towering form that made you feel like you were going to shit yourself. Your heart raced and felt like it was going to leap directly into his hands.

He leaned down and got directly into your face. You tried to turn your head away but he grips your chin and forces your head back. “No threat. Can’t… kill me,” you continued in choppy Yautja. The fear that gripped your heart squeezed hard. All you could do was stand there, under his scrutiny. Your eyes pleading for your life to be spared. Because if your memory served you right, from all the knowledge about these guys, they shouldn’t be allowed to harm or kill you in any way. You aren’t a threat and hold no weapons.

“How do you know?” he growled out lowly and tightened his grip on your chin. You since. “How did you get here?” You could see the questions swirling in his eyes the longer you he stared at you. He was trying to figure out where and how you got here.

Longer you stood there pinned to the wall, you grew more lightheaded. Either from the anxiety that ran through you or the lack of oxygen was starting to get to you. Maybe it was the fear of death right in front of you. Or maybe it was a combination of all of that. Your breathes started to come out fast the longer you were pinned. Darkness began to crowd your vision.

“I-I’m gonna pa-pas out,” you alerted to him before everything went dark. You collapsed on the ground. Kar'dokh letting you dropped. The last thing you remember is being picked up.

By the next time you woke up, you felt a bit refresh. Your eyes blinked open to stare up at a patterned, carved ceiling. Carving like the ones you’ve seen on the pyramid walls. Your brows furrowed at the sight. What? You sat up and rubbed at your eyes. The scene didn’t change. You had just woke up. What in the world were you still in this dream? Fear started to fill your stomach. No… surely, this was a dream. Was this a dream?

Then, a door opening caught your attention. Your head snapped over towards the sound. Kar'dokh was walking into the room, head held high. He stopped besides the cot you had been placed on during your forced nap. Stunned, you peered up at him, heart thundering again. “What happened?” you asked, speaking in your normal language now. Then, you felt the blanket that had been laid on you, slip down. That’s when you realize the room you were in was a medical room. And it didn’t feel like you were suffocating anymore.

His nearness was frightening. To see him crowd into your space without any remorse for scaring you terribly. A grumbled came from the towering, brown giant. “Our planet’s atmosphere isn’t designed for oomans.” His voice! He spoke in Yautja but a monotone voice sounded in your ear. A translator.

It’s thought that they breathe nitrogen more than oxygen. They can survive in our atmosphere than us in theirs. “A regulator has been added to our respiratory system.” Kar'dokh leaned into closer into your space. Your natural reaction was to move away but he snatched your throat and tugged you back. “Now, that I know you won’t die before I get my answers: start talking.”

Worst of all, you don’t know the true answer to his questions. He didn’t look like he would accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer either. You forced down the lump in your throat. “Uh, what was the questions again?” you asked in a small voice. As much as you wanted to shy away and hide, the grip he had on your chin was firm. There was no escape.

He scowled at you and tightened his hold on you for a moment. “How did you get here? Who brought you onto our planet?” The deepness and anger in his voice was laid thick over you. It rattled you deep to the bones. Fear gripped your heart. The more you looked at Kar'dokh, the more you noticed how decorated he was. Kar'dokh was covered with plenty of bones and scars. From your knowledge, he must be a well decorated hunter or possibly an elder… or a clan leader. That had your heart dropping to the floor, at his feet. You whimpered quietly and closed your eyes, trying not to faint again.

“Answer me!”

Your whole body jerked from him but he brought you back to his space. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I promise. I woke up in the middle of the jungle. I-I walked around and found this place. I don’t know how I got here. Honestly!” you had to plead to him. Hopefully, he’d see the honesty in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You cracked open an eye to read his face.

The gears in his brain were spinning. Kar'dokh growled then let go of your chin. With a yelp, you fell back and nearly fell off the cot if it wasn’t for him grabbing the collar of your shirt. He hauled you back up into a sitting position. Far too close. You could see the speckles in his eyes. Beautiful but deadly. This creature could easily hurt and kill you with a fraction of his strength. The only reason you are alive currently was you weren’t a threat nor an honorable kill. Those… others wanted to kill you with little remorse or pause. Was that honor rule not true? If that was the case, you were a walking corpse. Soon to be a skull on the wall. Nothing more than a trophy.

Kar'dokh eases off of your shirt until he knew you won’t fall backwards again. “Thanks,” you murmured and drifted your face down towards the cot again. Your hands were folded in your lap, nervously playing with each other. “I’m being honest. I promise. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where I am. This isn’t earth, is it?” You gazed back up at him, eyes large and wide.

The two of you entered a short staring contest until he sighed and took a step back. “I believe you, ooman. I don’t smell another on you.” The brown Yautja leaned forward and sniffed you for a moment. “You do smell… strange.” Was that a good or bad thing? He stood back up and stared down at you from over his mandibles. “Do answer me this: how do you know that we can’t harm you?” Your breath got caught in your throat. Was it wise to release such information to him? Would he think you as insane?

But, the only way was to get through all of this is to be honest. From there, it would be up to Kar'dokh if you are to live. Putting your life in someone’s hands.

“Okay… you might not believe me though.” From there, you went into explaining what your world is like. Going deeply into about how Yautjas are a fake species, made up. All of them a fantasy that someone made up… until now. Kar'dokh took all of it. His stern face a wall of impassible features. Not even his eyes gave away a single emotion. By the end, you finally stopped and watched him closely.

During your whole talk, he had grabbed a chair. Kar'dokh stood up and uncrossed his arms. “All you’ve said is… unrealistic, though you arriving on Yautja Prime is also next to unrealistic. Oomans aren’t allowed on Yautja Prime but… you are a special case now. If what you say is true then you must be kept alive.” That made a cold drop drip down your spine. What could that mean?

From that day, you were under lock and key by Kar'dokh or in a medical-like room. They would run tests on you yet they couldn’t come up with anything logical for your situation. In the meantime, you got to learn more than ever about them. Probably the first and only humans to step foot on Yautja Prime. Alive. It took time to get Kar'dokh to open up but your excitement about learning their culture and language inevitably softened him up enough. That’s when you learned more about him. Plenty for a well decorated warrior and clan leader to talk about.

Two years after you first dropped down onto their planet, the scientists were still scratching their heads. They haven’t figured out how you’ve made it here. They were able to find out you weren’t from their universe. Something about your cells were different. That’s as far as they’ve gotten about your situation.

On a different hand, you’ve gotten further with Kar'dokh to the point he allows you free roam of his home and the clan he leads. There was a strict no harming or killing on you. He had his name and symbol burned into your skin to ensure everyone knew you were off limits. Everyone kept a wide berth when it came to you. Rarely did anyone talk or looked at you. Something you used to your advantage. For the most part. Until you wanted to learn about their culture more.

Back in the comfort of Kar'dokh’s home, you were studying the language. A soft, thin, knitted blanket laid over your legs while you were curled on the couch in the living room. The language… was different. But Kar'dokh was more than helpful when it came to speaking and writing. Listening, that’s a whole different story. That’s all on you. Your brain is completely scrambled trying to understand the different clicks and trills they make.

With a groan, you flopped back against the back of the couch and tilted your head back, eyes closed. A familiar presences hovered over you, blocking out the light. You cracked open an eye then softly smiled at him with no teeth showing. “Hello, Kar'dokh. Come here to gloat about my struggles?” you teased him.

The brown Yautja placed his hands on the top of the couch and leaned over you. His long, dark tresses curtained around his head. “What are you struggling with?” he asked you, features soft and calm. You continued to gaze up at him. “I told you I’m here to help you.” He has changed since the first day you met him. You’ve cracked past his hard exterior to see how soft and kind he could be. You sat up and brought up the sheet of paper you were on. Kar'dokh grabbed it and looked at it closely.

Kar'dokh snorted then used a sharp nail to flick off the translator right behind your ear. Then, he began to speak in Yautja. “What it is saying is…” he spoke the word but it didn’t register in your brain. The confusion etched in your features stated you didn’t understand it. At all. Kar'dokh repeat it a few times. “Now, you try it.” The course of two years has greatly improved your Yautja speech and understanding. There are moment when you struggle… but Kar'dokh is there to catch you before you fall.

At first, the word choppily fell from your lips. Kar'dokh was patient in helping you get the word. The different facial structures definitely made it all the harder. Yet, Kar'dokh was patient with you the entire time. Even if it took all day for you to finally get it.

Once you finally got it, Kar'dokh purred and grinned at you. He combed his fingers carefully through your hair. “You did so well. I’m proud of you,” he praised to you.

In the pit of your stomach, butterflies erupted to life. Your eyes softly shut as you enjoyed the comfort his presence and touch offered. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you muttered softly in Yautja. The words were starting to fall from your lips with ease. His nails raked across your scalp. You sunk further into the couch with a deep groan.

A chuckle comes from the brown Yautja. You feel his presence grow closer, his heat washing over you like a blanket of comfort. One of your eyes barely cracks open to see his bright yellow one staring directly at you. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Without thinking, you leaned up and pecked him on one of his mandibles.

The whole world froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Internally, you were cursing at yourself. You flinched and tried to slip off the couch to put some distance between the two of you. When a hand snatched the back of you neck, lifted you over the couch, and dropped you right in front of Kar'dokh. Your shoulders scrunched up, eyes not daring to look him in the eye.

Rough finger pads gripped your chin and forced you to look directly at him. A lump began to grow in your throat the longer you stared at him.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just-I don’t know. It just happened. I do have feelings. I don’t know if you did. And I probably just ruined what friendship we had. Now you’ll probably hate me. Please, don’t. I don’t know what I wo-“ a tongue was shoved into your mouth and promptly shut you up. Your eyes fluttered shut.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you close to a feverish body. Your own arms wrapped around a sturdy neck. Kar'dokh guided you towards the nearest wall and trapped you between him and it. You are forced to pull back and pant for breath. The back of your head resting against the wall.

“That’s one way to make me shut up,” you teased him and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss to his lower mandible. “I’m not complaining though.” Kar'dokh growled lowly in the back of his throat and dove back into another kiss. You immediately responded in haste, hands roaming over his shoulders and felt up his powerful body.

As your hands dipped lower, Kar'dokh pressed himself harder against you. One of his legs pressed between your legs and forced them open. You gasped into the kiss but he doesn’t let you pull away this time. A rough textured hand palms at your hip for a moment before dipping under the hem of your shirt. The difference in temperature has your hair standing on edge. He continues to grope at your newly exposed skin.

For a moment, he moves back a fraction to give you a moment to take a breath. His large, brown forehead was pressed to your own. Piercing yellow eyes stare directly into yours. The hand under your shirts drifts up and skims under the swell of your unbound breasts. You gasped and arched your back, pressing yourself more into his touch. His eyes flared with fire, mandibles twitching wider.

There’s a long second passed before he rips your shirt off of your body and frees your torso. Kar'dokh’s gaze was immediately admiring the new skin he exposes. Both of his hands palm at the supple, soft skin of your breasts. Large thumbs toys over your nipples and draws them into peaks. You whined and curled your hands into fists. One snagging a dark tress of his. He purred deeply and pressed his mouth to yours again in a fierce fight for the top. Kar'dokh easily overtakes you.

You tugged on his tress. His dark nails dig into your ribcage then he pinched and twisted one of your nipples. A gasp tore at your throat and forced you to pull away from him. Your hips rutted down on the thigh between them.

“Kar, no more teasing. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you begged him, breathless. His irises darkened.

With the open invitation, Kar'dokh simply rips off your pants and under in one move. A yelp escapes from your throat but he ignores it. The brown Yautja bumps his knee further up and grinds against your exposed slit. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the feeling of a dripping mess making its way to his thigh.

Drool drips down his jaw. Kar'dokh grips your hips and easily lifts you off of the ground, keeping you pinned to the wall. Instinctively, your legs attempted to wrap around his waist but he was larger than you. He uses his hips to hold you up as he undoes his loincloth and tosses it to the side. Your gaze is drawn downwards.

Hot and heavy. Kar'dokh’s alien cock is nestled between your thighs, resting on your stomach. The tip reaches your belly button easily. Oh shit. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

One last look in your eyes, he draws his hips back. The tapered, neon green tip was pressed to your entrance. Then, with a swift thrust, he lodges himself as deep as possible, only able to get about halfway in. Your back arches off of the wall as a wail falls from your lips. The sheer size of him makes it hard for your walls to even clench around him.

Kar'dokh uses a hand to ensnare your throat and forced you to look at him. “I know you can take more.” Another draw and thrust of his hips makes the rest of him fit snuggly inside of you. The feeling of him overwhelmed you. It felt like he was touching every nerve inside of you. Maybe he was.

A deep groan falls from his alien mouth. His eyes fluttering, on the verge of shutting at the exquisite feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him. “That’s it. I knew you could take it, little one. Mm, you’re so tight,” he muttered under his breath. Kar'dokh refocused on the task on hand.

The pace at first was sloppy, unsteady until he found the perfect beat. Loud slaps echoing throughout the living room. Your hand was still wrapped around his tress firmly, using it as a lifeline. Your jaw dropped as each thrust forced the air out of your lungs.

“Yes, yes. Perfect. Been wanting to do this-ugh, for so long. Make you my mate. Gonne breed you. Have my pups,” he rambled amidst the brutal fucking he provided. His claw dug into your hips and held you in place.

You couldn’t the snort that left you as you tried to stay sane. “T-that’s n-ah, no possible, Kar.” From what you know of, it shouldn’t be. No matter how potent their seed is. Or the fact the tip of his shaft was slamming against you cervix with each rut into you.

Black nails dug deeper into your flesh, threatening to break the barrier. “Doesn’t matter. Our technology will fix that,” he growled back and doubled his efforts. Your reply was cut off with a high pitched whine. The brutalness was wrecking to your smaller frame. There wasn’t a chance you would be able to walk tomorrow.

He leaned further into your space and buried his face into the crook of your neck. His long, pink tongue slithered over your salty flesh, tasting you. Blood pool around the nails that finally pierced the flesh of your hips.

“You’re mine. My mate!” Your pants grew whiny. You had no choice but to hold on as the first wave of your orgasm started to wash over you. Your eyes crossed as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Fangs bite down into the crook of your neck, scaring as his mate. With a deep, resonating snarl, Kar'dokh hips go flush with yours. You mewled at the feeling of his throbbing cock taking up every available space inside of you then some more. Spurts of cum began to fill your insides.

None of it was able to spill out and be of waste. Something was lodged just shy of your entrance, plugging you up. You squirmed in his hold and tried to figure it out what it was. Then, the light bulb went off.

A knot. Kar'dokh had knotted you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. He really was doing everything he can to make you pregnant. He unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and licked at the dribbling blood.

At first, you smiled. That turned into a smirk and soon enough, you were laughing softly, soaking in the dopamine in your system. Kar'dokh’s licking stopped. The brown Yautja pulls away to look you in the eye, confused on your laughter.

“I don’t know how this will work. You won’t be able to get me pregnant,” you explained to him again, trying to get the point across. “Why do you even like me? I’m a human.”

One hand detaches the claws in your hip to grip at your chin. “It’s because I am attracted to you. Ooman or not, you are attractable both physically and mentally.” Oh… that’s really sweet of him. Your cheeks flushed with heat again. You couldn’t even duck your head off to the side.

“Then, you need to raise your standards, Kar. Or you just need to get out more often.” Kar'dokh responded with a snort and returned to nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t entertain your words. Instead, he holds you in his arms, waiting for his knot to deflate.

So he could do it all over again.

Sure enough, a human can get pregnant by a Yautja.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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lila-lou · 2 days ago

Text

✨His true fate - Part 38/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, ANGST

Word Count: 10996

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The silence that followed was deafening. Jensen froze, his body stiffening like a live wire had run through him. His hands, which had been cupping yours moments ago, fell away abruptly as he leaned back, staring at you in disbelief.

“Come again?”, he asked, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it. The warmth and vulnerability from just moments ago evaporated, replaced by something icy and sharp. “You think you’re what?”.

“Pregnant”, you said again, this time slightly louder, though your voice still wavered. You finally forced yourself to look up at him, but the expression on his face made your heart sink.

Jensen’s jaw clenched, and his hands gripped the edge of your chair tightly as he stared at you like he was trying to decipher a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. “You know I got a vasectomy years ago”, he said, his voice low and steady, but there was an undercurrent of something dangerous beneath it. “So how the fuck is that possible?”.

The implication hit you like a punch to the gut, and your chest tightened as tears welled in your eyes. “Jensen, I didn’t—”.

“You didn’t what?”, he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “Cheat on me? Because that’s the only fucking explanation, right? If fucking you’re pregnant, it sure as hell isn’t mine”.

Jensen’s ears drummed loudly, his heartbeat quickening as his chest heaved with anger. His neck flushed a deep red, the tension in his body building like a storm ready to break. He shot up from the couch, pacing a few steps before whirling around to face you, his voice rising.

“How the hell do you even have the fucking nerve?”, he shouted, his words sharp and cutting. “You made me the bad guy for days—left me hanging, thinking I was the one screwing fucking everything up, destroying this fucking relationship! And now you sit here, dropping this bomb on me? Admitting that you—”. His voice cracked as he threw his hands up, unable to finish the thought, his face a mask of betrayal. “Telling me you’re fucking pregnant?”.

Your mouth opened to protest, but no words came. The sheer intensity of his anger left you frozen, your heart pounding as his accusations cut deeper than anything you’d imagined.

“I’ve been killing myself trying to fucking fix this, to show you I’m here, that I fucking love you!”, he continued, his voice shaking with raw emotion. “And now this? The only way this happens is if you—if you cheated on me!”.

Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t cheat on you, Jensen. I swear I didn’t. I don’t even know how—”.

“Then explain it!”, he interrupted, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. “Explain to me how the hell you’re pregnant when it’s not fucking possible!". He stopped, his breath hitching, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he struggled to control himself.

You stood, your legs trembling as you faced him. “I don’t know!”, you cried, your voice breaking. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m telling you the truth! I haven’t been with anyone else. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t!”.

Jensen let out a harsh laugh, his hand raking through his hair as he turned away from you, his shoulders tense. “Do you even fucking hear yourself?”, he muttered, his tone bitter. “You’re asking me to believe something impossible, something that doesn’t make any fucking sense”.

Jensen’s anger only seemed to grow, his voice getting louder as he threw his arms out in frustration. “The tables have fucking turned, haven’t they?”, he snapped, his tone dripping with irony. “I spent days begging you to believe me, to trust me. And now you’re the one standing there, asking me to take your word for something that doesn’t fucking add up!”.

His words hit like a slap, and your stomach churned with a mixture of hurt and frustration. “It’s not the same”, you said weakly, your voice trembling. “I didn’t cheat on you, Jensen. I wouldn’t. You have to know that”.

“Oh, do I?”, he fired back, his green eyes blazing with emotion as he took a step closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks an awful lot like you’re asking me to ignore the facts and just blindly believe you. How is that fair? How is that any different from what you did to me?”.

Tears streamed freely down your face now, your chest tightening as the reality of his doubt hit you harder than any of his words. “I know it sounds crazy”, you admitted, your voice breaking. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m not lying to you. I swear on everything, Jensen. I haven’t been with anyone else”.

Jensen let out a bitter laugh, pacing back and forth like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “And I’m supposed to just accept that?”, he said, his voice still sharp. “I’m supposed to believe this miracle baby somehow happened out of thin air, and you had nothing to do with it?”.

His words made your heart shatter further, and you felt your knees weaken as you dropped back onto the couch. “I’m begging you to believe me”, you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “Please, Jensen”.

“The fuck should I believe?”, Jensen roared, his voice so loud it made you flinch, your body recoiling slightly as his anger filled the room like a thunderstorm. His hands balled into fists at his sides, trembling with barely contained fury.

Without thinking, he kicked the coffee table, sending it crashing into the wall with a loud, splintering crack. The sudden violence left you frozen, your breath catching as tears streamed down your face. You had never seen him like this—so raw, so completely consumed by his emotions.

“I can’t get anyone fucking pregnant anymore!”, he shouted, his voice breaking with the weight of his anger and disbelief. “I had a goddamn vasectomy, for fuck’s sake! So you tell me how the hell I’m supposed to believe this bullshit!”.

You sat there, trembling, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to find your voice. But before you could speak, he continued, his tone turning cruel, sharp, and cutting in a way that felt almost deliberate.

“If you think I’m fucking stupid enough to believe you got pregnant with my kid—when I know damn well it’s not possible—you’ve lost your fucking mind”, he spat. “What’s next? You expect me to raise someone else’s bastard kid?”.

The word bastard hit you like a slap to the face, your hands trembling as you pressed them against your lap. His words were venomous, meant to lash out in his pain, but that didn’t make them sting any less.

“Jensen…”, you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he wasn’t finished.

“I’ve been bending over backward for you”, he continued, his tone mocking now. “Moving across the country, buying a house, trying to fix everything, and now this? And you expect me to just… what? Take your word for it and play along?”.

Your body was shaking uncontrollably now, the sheer force of his anger leaving you feeling hollow and small. “I don’t know what else to say”, you whispered, tears choking your voice. “I’ve told you the truth, Jensen. I swear on everything, I haven’t cheated on you”.

But he didn’t respond, his chest heaving as he stood on the other side of the room, his hands raking through his hair as though trying to make sense of his own anger. The silence that followed was deafening, and the distance between you felt insurmountable.

You weren’t mad at Jensen—how could you be? You understood where he was coming from, his anger fueled by shock, confusion, and betrayal he thought was real. He had every reason to doubt you, especially after the way you’d handled the last week. You’d questioned him, accused him, made him feel like the bad guy. And now, here you were, asking for blind faith in return.

But that didn’t erase the fear now settling in your chest.

Jensen’s rage wasn’t directed at you personally, not really—it was aimed at the impossible situation, at the breaking point the two of you had reached. Still, seeing him like this, his face twisted in anger, his voice echoing through the room, made your stomach churn. You pressed a trembling hand to your abdomen, trying to steady yourself as nausea threatened to overwhelm you again.

You didn’t want to throw up—not now, not here. You weren’t even sure you could move from the couch without collapsing. The weight of everything—the stress, the hormones, the exhaustion—pressed down on you like an iron weight. Your body felt weak, your mind spinning as you tried to process his words, his accusations, his pain.

“Jensen”, you said softly, your voice trembling as you tried to cut through the silence. “I know… I know you’re mad. And I don’t blame you. I’d feel the same way if I were you”.

He turned to look at you, his chest still heaving, but his expression flickered with something else—confusion, maybe, or guilt at how raw he’d let his anger become. His green eyes bore into yours, the frustration still simmering just beneath the surface.

“I didn’t handle any of this right”, you admitted, tears slipping down your cheeks as you spoke. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. I should’ve talked to you instead of shutting you out. But Jensen, I swear to you, I haven’t been with anyone else. I don’t know how this happened, and I’m scared, too. I’m scared out of my mind”.

His jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides as he seemed to struggle with himself, his anger warring with something deeper. He took a step closer but stopped, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You’re scared?”, he repeated, his voice still tense. “What the hell do you think I am, standing here? You drop something like this on me, and you expect me to just…”. He trailed off, shaking his head.

You swallowed hard, willing the nausea to stay at bay as you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.

Jensen caught your eyes, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. His green eyes, usually so steady, glistened as he shook his head slowly, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Don’t look at me like that”, he breathed, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Don’t… don’t do that”.

Your stomach churned harder, not from the nausea this time, but from the realization of just how much pain he was in. He wasn’t just angry; he was unraveling, and you couldn’t tell if you were the one holding the thread or the one tangled in it with him.

Jensen looked away, his jaw clenching as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You have no idea what this feels like”, he muttered, his voice low and ragged. “To stand here, after everything I’ve been through, and feel like…”. He stopped, shaking his head again. “It feels like you’re doing everything she did to me, only fucking worse”.

The words hit you like a freight train, and your breath caught in your throat. “Jensen”, you said softly, your voice trembling. “That’s not what I’m doing. I swear to you, I’m not trying to hurt you”.

He let out a hollow laugh, one that carried no humor. “It sure feels like it… Do you know what it’s like to spend years being lied to? Manipulated? Made to feel like you’re never enough? That no matter how hard you try, you’re always the problem?”.

You shook your head, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. “I didn’t mean—”.

“That’s the thing”, he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “You didn’t mean to. And yet here we are. You’re asking me to believe something that doesn’t make sense, and I want to. God, I want to believe you more than anything. But do you know how hard that is when every instinct I have is screaming at me to protect myself?”.

His words left you speechless, your hands trembling in your lap as you tried to find something—anything—to say that could bridge the gap between you. But everything felt inadequate, like a drop of water on a wildfire.

Jensen’s shoulders sagged, and his voice softened as he ran a hand through his hair again. “I’m not saying you’re her. I know you’re not. But right now, it feels the same. The doubts. The confusion. The fear. And it’s killing me because I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to make sense of this”.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. Neither of you spoke, the weight of the conversation pressing down like an unbearable force. Jensen eventually let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he walked away from where he had been standing. He sank into the armchair across the room, keeping a noticeable distance from you but still watching you carefully, his face a mixture of exhaustion and pain.

For minutes, the room was filled with nothing but the faint hum of the heater, each second stretching into what felt like hours. You stared at your hands in your lap, trembling slightly, while Jensen leaned forward in the chair, his elbows on his knees and his fingers interlaced, like he was trying to hold himself together.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice quiet and almost hesitant. “Did you… have you seen a doctor?”, he asked, his words measured. “To know for sure?”.

You looked up at him, your throat tightening at the question. His green eyes met yours, not angry now, but guarded, as though he was bracing himself for what you might say.

You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I did”, you said, your fingers twisting together. “They ran some tests. I won’t have the official results until tomorrow, but… I took tests here, Jensen. At home. And they were all positive”.

Jensen leaned back slightly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. His expression hardened, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. You watched, your stomach knotting as his fingers moved purposefully across the screen, searching for something. His energy had shifted—no longer explosive, but cold and precise, as though he’d locked himself in a protective shell.

“What are you doing?”, you asked shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear gnawed at the edges of your mind, bracing yourself for the worst—for him to accuse you again, for him to tell you to leave, to call the police and let you kicked out of the house.

He held up a hand to quiet you, his green eyes not meeting yours as he dialed a number. His grip on the phone was tight, his knuckles white as he brought it to his ear.

“Yeah”, he said when someone answered, his voice tight and clipped. “This is Jensen Ackles. My date of birth is March 1, 1978. I need to confirm a procedure—a vasectomy I had done with you. It was…”. He paused for a moment, his hand running through his hair as he thought. “It was in 2016. Summer. I need a follow-up. Like, immediately”.

You stared at him, your heart pounding as you processed what was happening. He was calling the doctor who had performed his vasectomy. The realization sent a chill through you. This wasn’t a conversation about the two of you anymore—this was about facts, about evidence. He needed proof, one way or the other.

The voice on the other end of the call spoke for a moment, and Jensen’s grip on the phone tightened further. “Yeah, I understand that”, he snapped, his frustration barely contained. “But this is urgent. I need to know if there’s any chance—any chance at all—that something could’ve failed”.

He paced a few steps as he listened, the tension in his body visible in every movement. You could hear the muffled sound of the person on the other end of the line, but their words were indistinguishable. Jensen’s jaw clenched as he responded. “Fine. I’ll come in tomorrow morning. First thing. Just… make it happen”.

He ended the call with a sharp tap, his hand dropping to his side as he let out a long, heavy sigh.

The silence after Jensen hung up the phone was deafening, stretching between you like an insurmountable wall. His shoulders were tense, his breathing shallow, as if the weight of everything was pressing down on him all at once. He didn’t look at you, didn’t offer any words of reassurance or even anger. Instead, he simply muttered, his voice low and devoid of emotion, “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight”.

The words hit you harder than you’d expected, and before you could respond, he turned and walked toward the hallway. His footsteps were heavy, the sound of his retreat echoing in the quiet room. He disappeared into the guest room, shutting the door firmly behind him without so much as a glance in your direction.

You sat frozen on the couch, staring at the empty space he’d left behind. The tightness in your chest grew until it felt unbearable, and you pressed your trembling hands against your thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. But it was no use. The ache, the confusion, the fear—they were all too overwhelming.

For a moment, you considered going after him, trying to talk again, to fix the broken pieces between you. But the memory of his cold tone, his distant demeanor, held you back. He needed space. Maybe you both did.

With a shaky sigh, you pulled yourself up from the couch and headed toward the bedroom. The quiet house felt even emptier than before, each step amplifying the loneliness that had settled deep in your chest. Once inside, you closed the door softly, leaning against it as tears slipped down your cheeks.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how you pictured your life with Jensen—the man you loved more than anyone. The man who had once made you feel safe and cherished now felt like a stranger. And you couldn’t shake the fear that this chasm between you might never be bridged.

Neither of you could sleep. The house was steeped in a heavy, almost oppressive silence, broken only by the faint creaks of the floorboards as Jensen shifted in the guest room. Despite his exhaustion—days of little rest piling up—his mind refused to quiet. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts looping endlessly. The anger and frustration had simmered down, but in their place was a hollow ache he didn’t know how to fill.

You weren’t faring any better. Your body felt drained, your mind weighed down by the emotional toll of the past few days. By three in the morning, you were hunched over the toilet again, your stomach rejecting even the water you’d managed to sip throughout the evening. The nausea felt relentless, and the exhaustion was so profound that you could barely keep your eyes open. Yet, sleep refused to come.

The sound of you retching must have carried through the house because, before long, there was a soft knock at the bathroom door. You didn’t have the energy to answer, but the door creaked open slightly anyway.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe for a moment, his jaw tight and his expression shadowed with exhaustion. He was still angry—angry at the situation, at the impossible mess you were both tangled in—but he couldn’t ignore the awful sound of you retching, for over 30 minutes now. It was pitiful, like someone barely hanging on, and no matter how confused or frustrated he was, Jensen couldn’t just stand by and pretend he hadn’t heard it.

He stepped inside the bathroom, his footsteps soft but deliberate. His gaze landed on you, hunched over the toilet, your body trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. The sight of you, so vulnerable and clearly miserable, made his chest tighten with something that cut through the anger: concern.

“You sound like death warmed over”, he muttered, his voice gruff but not unkind as he crouched down beside you.

You didn’t have the strength to respond, your head resting against your forearm as you gasped for breath. The room spun slightly, and you felt the coolness of his presence next to you, his hand hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you.

“Did you even eat anything today?”, he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now, less sharp.

You shook your head weakly, not trusting your voice to answer. The nausea was relentless, and even water had betrayed you earlier.

Jensen sighed heavily, his frustration clear, but it wasn’t directed at you this time. “You’re going to end up in the hospital if this keeps up”, he said, his voice rough. “You can’t just—”. He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair before letting out another sigh. “Stay here”.

You heard him stand and leave the room briefly, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. When he returned, he had a glass of water and a damp washcloth in his hands. He knelt back down beside you, holding the glass out.

“Small sips”, he instructed, his tone firm but not harsh. “Don’t try to chug it. Just… ease into it”.

You took the glass with trembling hands, managing a small sip before your stomach threatened to rebel again. He watched you carefully, his expression still strained, but his presence was steadying.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with us”, Jensen admitted quietly, his green eyes fixed on yours. “But I can’t just sit in the other room and listen to you like this”.

Your voice was barely audible as you whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jensen”. The words were weak, trembling, and filled with the kind of heartbreak that only came from the depths of your soul. Tears slipped down your cheeks, unstoppable as the sobs bubbled up from inside you, leaving you a breathless, shaking mess.

“I didn’t lie to you”, you managed between shaky breaths, your words broken and desperate. “I would never hurt you, Jensen. I swear, you’ll see tomorrow. You’ll see…”.

Jensen’s heart clenched painfully as he watched you fall apart in front of him. You were a wreck—tears streaming, sobs making it nearly impossible for you to breathe properly, your body trembling from the sheer exhaustion of days without keeping food down. His anger, his frustration, all of it took a backseat as the reality of your physical state hit him like a freight train.

Before he could respond, your body lurched again, and you turned back toward the toilet, retching violently. Your stomach was empty, but it didn’t seem to matter. The dry heaves wracked your frame, leaving you gasping for air and clinging to the toilet for support. Jensen didn’t hesitate this time. He was beside you in an instant, one hand holding back your hair while the other rested on your back, steady and reassuring.

“This isn’t healthy”, he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with worry. “This isn’t okay—not for you, and not if…” His voice faltered, but his hand remained firm against your back. “Not if you’re really pregnant”.

You sobbed harder, your body shaking with the effort of holding yourself up. “I know”, you choked out, your voice barely audible. “I know it’s not. But I can’t—”. Another retch interrupted you, leaving you gasping and trembling. “I don’t know what to do”.

He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he felt the weight of your words. You were falling apart, and for all his anger and confusion, he couldn’t stand to see you like this. “We’ll figure it out”, he said softly, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “We’ll figure it out, okay? But you can’t keep going like this. You’re going to make yourself sick. Really sick”.

He shifted, grabbing the damp washcloth again and pressing it gently against your forehead once you leaned back from the toilet. His green eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere tonight”, he said quietly, his tone firm. “And tomorrow, we’ll deal with everything. But right now, we need to get you through the night”.

You nodded weakly, your body too spent to argue, too exhausted to feel anything but the faint flicker of relief that he was still there.

Eventually, without even realizing it, you drifted into a fitful sleep against Jensen’s side. Your body, utterly spent from the exhaustion and the endless spiral of emotions, gave in to the warmth and steadiness of his presence. Jensen sat there, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared at the wall, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

He was caught in an unbearable tug-of-war. On one side, there was the love he felt for you—the fierce, all-consuming kind that made him want to protect you no matter what. On the other, there was the gnawing ache of betrayal he couldn’t quite shake, the possibility that everything you’d built together could be unraveling with lies.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as he battled himself. His gaze dropped to your sleeping face, tear-streaked and pale. The vulnerability etched into your features made something deep in his chest twist painfully. You were hurting, and even in his anger, he couldn’t turn away from that.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jensen let out a slow, shaky breath. He couldn’t leave you like this—not tonight. His protective instincts overrode the storm of doubts in his mind as he carefully scooped you up, cradling you against his chest. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you gently on the bed, tucking the blankets around you with a tenderness that belied the war raging inside him. As he moved to lay down beside you, your eyes fluttered open briefly, glassy with exhaustion but still aware enough to speak.

“I’m not her, Jensen”, you whispered, your voice fragile but steady, carrying a quiet plea for him to believe you.

Jensen’s chest tightened, and his breath caught in his throat. But before he could respond, you were already drifting back into sleep, your breathing evening out as the weight of the night finally pulled you under.

He lay beside you, staring at the ceiling, the echo of your words looping in his mind. “I’m not her”. They were simple, yet they carried the weight of everything unsaid between you.

Jensen didn’t sleep that night. His mind churned with memories, fears, and hopes, all tangled together in an exhausting loop. But as he listened to the sound of your soft, even breaths beside him, his hand instinctively reached for yours under the blanket. He held it tightly, as though it was the only anchor keeping him grounded.

The next morning, Jensen stood in the kitchen, leaning heavily against the counter with his third cup of coffee in hand. He’d showered and dressed early, but the exhaustion etched into his face hadn’t washed away. The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than ever, and his expression was a mix of weariness and tension.

The house was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the refrigerator and the soft clink of his coffee mug against the counter. He glanced at the clock for the third time in ten minutes, the looming doctor’s appointment weighing on his mind. He hadn’t slept at all, his thoughts looping endlessly between doubt, anger, and the faint, stubborn hope that maybe—just maybe—he’d been wrong to jump to conclusions.

When he heard soft footsteps padding down the hall, his posture stiffened. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, still pale and tired but with a tentative resolve in your eyes. The sight of you made his chest tighten.

“Morning”, you said softly, your voice hoarse from the night before.

Jensen nodded, his grip tightening on his coffee mug. “Morning”, he replied, his tone flat but not unkind. He watched as you hesitated, your eyes flickering toward him and then away, as though unsure of how to approach him after everything.

You stepped into the kitchen, leaning slightly against the counter opposite him. “You’re up early”, you said, trying to fill the heavy silence.

“Couldn’t sleep”, he admitted, his voice quieter now. He took a sip of his coffee, the bitterness doing little to ease the tightness in his throat. “Doctor’s appointment in a couple hours”.

Your eyes dropped to your hands, fidgeting nervously with the edge of the blanket. “Jensen…”, you started, but your voice faltered, and you didn’t know what else to say.

He sighed, setting his mug down and crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure this out”, he said, his voice carrying an edge of determination despite the fatigue. “One way or another, we’ll get the answers”.

The tension between you was palpable, but there was also an unspoken understanding that today was a turning point. Everything hinged on what the doctor would say, on whether the impossible had truly happened or if the cracks between you would grow even wider.

“Do you want me to come with you?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice trembling slightly.

Jensen stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he nodded. “Yeah”, he said softly.

The words hung between you, a fragile truce as you both prepared for what the day would bring.

Jensen’s green eyes met yours, but there was a flicker of hesitation in them as he spoke. “Do you… do you want me to come with you? To your appointment?”, he asked, his voice quiet and cautious. The tension in his posture was palpable, and you could see it wasn’t an offer made with ease.

You looked at him, your heart aching. You wanted him there so desperately—to hold your hand, to be a united front in this storm, to share the weight of whatever was to come. But the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed slightly as if bracing himself, told you the truth he wouldn’t say: he didn’t want to go. The thought of facing that moment together terrified him in ways he couldn’t fully express.

For a moment, the words stuck in your throat. You wanted to tell him it would mean everything for him to be there, but you also didn’t want to push him further than he could bear. You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you spoke.

“I want you there, Jensen”, you admitted softly, your eyes searching his. “But… I can see you don’t want to be”.

His gaze dropped, his hand tightening around the mug he was still holding. He looked as though he wanted to say something, to protest, but no words came. Instead, he let out a long sigh, setting the mug down with a faint clink before rubbing a hand over his face.

Jensen hesitated, his lips parting as though to argue, to explain. “It’s not that I—”, he started, his voice strained and unsure, but you shook your head gently, cutting him off before he could finish.

“It’s alright”, you said softly, forcing a small, sad smile as you looked at him. “I can handle this”.

The words felt heavier than you intended, and for a moment, Jensen’s expression twisted with something like guilt. He looked as though he wanted to protest, but the weight of everything left him silent, standing frozen as you turned and walked toward the stairs.

Your footsteps felt louder than usual, the quiet tension in the house amplifying every small sound. As you climbed the stairs, you couldn’t stop the wave of emotion rising in your chest. You wanted him there so badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to force him into something he wasn’t ready for. You told yourself it was better this way—simpler, less painful. But it didn’t stop the ache that settled deep in your heart.

Once in the bedroom, you closed the door softly behind you and leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You couldn’t afford to fall apart now. There would be time for that later—after you knew for certain, after you had answers. For now, you needed to get through the day.

You crossed the room and began to get ready, your movements slow and deliberate. As you pulled on your clothes and brushed your hair, you tried to focus on the task at hand rather than the whirlwind of doubt, fear, and sadness threatening to consume you.

Downstairs, Jensen stood by the kitchen counter, staring blankly at his coffee mug. His hands flexed at his sides, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he replayed your words in his mind. “I can handle this”.

The phrase gnawed at him, stirring a sense of failure he couldn’t shake. He knew you needed him—he could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. But the weight of his own doubts and fears felt insurmountable, leaving him paralyzed.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the counter. He hated himself for hesitating, for letting his own turmoil keep him from being there for you. But he didn’t know how to face this—not when the foundations of everything he thought he knew were already crumbling beneath him.

The sound of footsteps upstairs pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced toward the stairs, his heart heavy.

The air between you felt thick as you descended the stairs, bag slung over your shoulder and keys in hand. Jensen hadn’t moved from his spot by the counter, still gripping the edge as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. His green eyes flicked to yours as you approached, filled with a storm of emotions he couldn’t seem to voice.

You stopped a few feet away, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “I’ll pick you up after”, you whispered, your voice soft but steady, though the crack of vulnerability in it betrayed you. You didn’t want to make this harder than it already was—for either of you.

Jensen’s lips parted slightly, like he was going to say something, but the words didn’t come. His gaze searched yours, and for a brief moment, his hand twitched as though he might reach out to you. Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, silent and still, his jaw tightening as his eyes glistened with something he wouldn’t let fall.

You forced a faint, shaky smile, clutching your keys tighter as you turned toward the door. The sound of your footsteps echoed faintly, and when you reached the doorknob, you paused, looking back over your shoulder. Jensen hadn’t moved an inch, his gaze fixed on the floor now, the lines of his face etched with pain and conflict.

“I’ll text you when I’m done”, you added, your voice barely audible before you stepped out into the cool morning air and closed the door softly behind you.

As you walked to your car, the weight of everything pressed down on you, heavier with every step. You slipped into the driver’s seat, resting your hands on the steering wheel for a moment as you exhaled shakily. The thought of going to the appointment alone was daunting, but you pushed the fear aside, focusing on the road ahead.

Inside the house, Jensen finally moved, letting out a sharp breath as he rubbed his hands over his face. He felt hollow, torn between chasing after you and staying rooted in his uncertainty. The sound of the door closing had been too final, and the silence that followed was deafening.

He leaned heavily against the counter, his head hanging as he muttered to himself, “What the hell is wrong with me?”. But even he didn’t have an answer.

As you parked in front of the doctor’s office, your hands gripping the steering wheel tightly while you stared at the building. Your nerves felt like they were on fire, twisting and tightening in your stomach. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but it did little to ease the racing thoughts in your mind.

What if I am pregnant? What if I’m not? What happens either way?

The questions circled endlessly, each one feeding the other until it felt like your chest was caving in. You had hoped, desperately, that the home tests were wrong. That the exhaustion, nausea, and missed periods were just the result of stress, not something more life-changing. But five positive tests weren’t easy to dismiss, no matter how much you wanted to.

You sighed deeply, resting your forehead against the steering wheel for a moment before forcing yourself to move. Your hands shook slightly as you opened the car door and stepped out into the crisp air, your breath fogging in front of you as you made your way toward the entrance.

The waiting room was quiet, almost eerily so, with just a soft hum of conversation from the receptionist desk and the faint sound of pages turning from someone flipping through a magazine. You checked in, your voice shaky as you gave your name, and then you sat down, your leg bouncing nervously as you waited.

Every second felt like an eternity, the sterile walls closing in around you as your thoughts ran wild.

Finally, your name was called, and you stood on shaky legs, making your way toward the doctor’s office. The nurse led you to the examination room, and you barely noticed the sound of your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. Your mind was a blur, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you sat down, waiting for the doctor to come in.

When he entered, he was holding a folder, a kind smile on his face as he closed the door behind him. He settled into his chair, flipping through the papers in his hands before looking up at you.

“Well”, he began, his tone cheerful but professional, “it’s not stress, and you’re not sick”. He paused, letting the words hang in the air for just a moment before continuing. “You’re pregnant. Congratulations”.

Your breath caught in your throat, the words hitting you like a freight train. You stared at him, frozen in place, as if your brain was refusing to process what he’d just said.

He smiled again, unaware of the storm raging inside you, and slid a piece of paper across the desk. “Here’s a list of gynecologists in the area”, he said. “You’ll want to set up your first prenatal appointment soon. They’ll be able to walk you through everything you need to know moving forward”.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even reach for the paper. The room felt like it was spinning, your breath coming in shallow bursts as the weight of his words settled over you. Pregnant. He’d said it so casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, but to you, it felt anything but.

“Are… are you sure?”, you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his expression softening as he met your eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. The tests don’t lie. You’re pregnant”.

You blinked, tears welling in your eyes as you looked down at your hands, your mind racing. Everything felt surreal, like you were watching someone else’s life unfold instead of your own.

The doctor seemed to sense your overwhelm, his voice gentle as he added, “Take your time. It’s a lot to take in. If you have any questions or concerns, I’m here to help”.

You nodded weakly, still unable to speak. Slowly, you reached out and took the list of gynecologists, clutching it in your trembling hands.

“Congratulations again”, the doctor said warmly before standing and leaving the room, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the list in your hands. Pregnant. The word echoed in your mind, over and over, as the enormity of the situation began to sink in.

You didn’t know how long you sat in the doctor’s office, frozen in place with the list of gynecologists clutched in your hands. Time seemed irrelevant as your mind replayed the doctor’s words over and over. Pregnant. The weight of it pressed down on you like a boulder, suffocating and impossible to ignore.

Eventually, you forced yourself to stand. Your legs felt shaky as you made your way back to your car, sliding into the driver’s seat and gripping the steering wheel tightly. The drive home was a blur, the world outside the window passing in muted tones as your thoughts churned relentlessly. Pregnant. Jensen. His appointment.

You pulled into the driveway, the house looming in front of you like a question you didn’t have an answer for. Home. A place that had felt safe and warm just weeks ago now felt like a battleground, filled with tension and doubt.

As you sat in the car, staring blankly at the dashboard, you realized you hadn’t texted Jensen after leaving the doctor’s office. Your fingers trembled as you typed out a quick message:

"I'm here. Ready whenever you are".

You barely hit send before the screen blurred with your unshed tears. Setting your phone down, you leaned back into the seat, staring out of the window as the weight of everything pressed down on you once again. Minutes felt like hours, the silence in the car echoing loudly in your head.

To your surprise, Jensen was at the passenger side door within minutes, sliding in without a word. He closed the door softly, but the air between you felt thick with tension. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the world outside, watching as the trees swayed gently in the wind. Your hands rested loosely on the steering wheel, your fingers tapping lightly—a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to stop.

Jensen shifted in his seat, his gaze on you as if he were trying to decipher your thoughts. His jaw was tight, and his green eyes looked more tired than ever. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but hesitated, his hands clenching into fists in his lap before he finally found the courage.

“Are you…”, he started, his voice low and hesitant. “Are you pregnant?”.

You didn’t answer right away, your heart hammering in your chest. The word sat heavy on your tongue, but saying it out loud felt like breaking something fragile. You finally nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah”, you whispered, the single word carrying more weight than you thought possible.

Jensen inhaled sharply, leaning back in his seat. He rubbed a hand over his face, his expression unreadable as he stared straight ahead. “Okay”, he said after a long moment, his voice almost too calm. “Let’s… let’s go”.

You nodded silently, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. The ride to his doctor’s office was quiet, both of you drowning in your own thoughts.

Jensen didn’t press for details, but you could feel his gaze flicking toward you every so often, like he was still trying to convince himself of what you’d just confirmed. He wanted to know the truth more than anything—but at the same time, the fear of what that truth might mean seemed to paralyze him.

The sterile atmosphere of the waiting room only added to the tension clawing at your chest. You sat alone, your hands tightly clasped together in your lap as you tried to steady your breathing. The faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant murmur of voices from down the hall barely registered as you fought against the nausea that still hadn’t let up. Every few seconds, your stomach twisted painfully, and you had to focus on slow, deliberate breaths to keep from rushing to the bathroom.

Jensen had been gone for what felt like an eternity, and the time stretched endlessly as your mind raced. You knew he wasn’t himself right now. The weight of everything—the doubts, the accusations, the impossibility of the situation—was visibly pressing down on him. The thought of Jensen in that sterile little room, trying to gather a sample while drowning in the same swirling emotions, made your chest ache.

If things had been different—if everything hadn’t been so fractured—you might have been by his side, offering a playful smile, teasing him, or even helping him in a much more… physical way. But now, the gap between you felt wider than ever. Instead of playful banter, there was silence. Instead of closeness, there was an invisible wall you weren’t sure how to break down.

You leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes briefly as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions and the persistent nausea. But it was impossible not to think about what Jensen might be feeling in that moment. He was a man who thrived on control and certainty, and this situation was the opposite of everything he relied on.

Finally, the door to the hallway opened, and Jensen emerged. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set, and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t meet your eyes right away as he crossed the waiting room, his steps purposeful but heavy.

“It’s done”, he said shortly, his voice clipped as he stopped in front of you. He still didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “They’ll have the results in a few hours”.

You nodded, standing up slowly, your knees wobbling slightly from the effort. Jensen finally glanced at you, and for a brief moment, his expression softened, worry flickering in his green eyes. But just as quickly, he looked away again, the tension in his body radiating outward like an unspoken barrier.

“Let’s go”, he said quietly, heading for the door. You followed silently, unsure of what to say or how to bridge the widening gap between you.

As you approached the car, Jensen glanced at you, noticing the slight wobble in your step and the way your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the car door.

“I’ll drive”, he said curtly, stepping around to the driver’s side and gesturing for you to get in on the passenger side.

You didn’t argue. You were too exhausted, too emotionally drained to put up a fight. Sliding into the seat, you closed your eyes briefly, leaning your head against the cool window as Jensen started the car. The ride was quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

A few minutes later, the car slowed, and you opened your eyes to see he’d pulled into the parking lot of a small Thai restaurant. Still, he didn’t speak, just got out of the car and walked inside without so much as a glance back at you.

You stared out the window, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of his actions.

Ten minutes later, Jensen emerged, a small plastic bag in his hand. He walked back to the car with a purposeful stride, opened the driver’s door, and slid in without a word. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a plain bowl of steamed rice and a bottle of water, handing them to you.

“Here”, he said simply, his voice quiet but devoid of the usual warmth you were used to.

You took the food hesitantly, murmuring a soft, “Thank you”, as your fingers brushed against his. He didn’t acknowledge the gratitude, his eyes fixed on the steering wheel as he started the car again.

The silence between you was deafening, and you could feel the unspoken tension pressing down on both of you. Jensen’s jaw was clenched tight, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel. He seemed lost in his thoughts, his expression unreadable.

You picked at the rice, the plainness of it easier on your churning stomach. You wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

As the car turned back onto the main road, you glanced at Jensen, his profile illuminated by the glow of passing streetlights. He looked exhausted, his face drawn and his eyes clouded. It was clear he was carrying just as much as you were, and it weighed on him in ways you hadn’t fully understood until now.

Jensen’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as his voice broke through the silence, low and tight. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore”, he admitted, his words carrying a weight that made your chest tighten.

The tears filled your eyes almost instantly, the familiar sting making you curse yourself internally. You’d cried so much over the past days, you should have been empty by now. But here you were again, breaking under the pressure of his words, the tension, the doubt that had consumed both of you.

You blinked rapidly, trying to will the tears away, but it was useless. They slid down your cheeks silently as you stared out of the window, your fingers tightening around the bottle of water he’d handed you earlier. You felt small, fragile, and more alone than ever, despite Jensen sitting just inches away.

“I don’t know what to say either”, you whispered finally, your voice trembling as you kept your gaze fixed on the food. “Every time I try, it feels like it’s not enough. Like I can’t make you believe me”.

Jensen let out a shaky breath, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly as he glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I want to believe you”, he said, his voice softer but no less strained. “I really do. But… I’m scared, alright? I’m fucking terrified”.

His admission caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, your tear-streaked face lit by the dim glow of the dashboard. “Scared of what?”, you asked, your voice breaking.

He hesitated, his jaw clenching as he searched for the right words. “Of losing you”, he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of finding out that everything I thought we had was just… not real. I don’t think I could survive that”.

Your heart twisted at his confession, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through the haze of your own pain.

"You’ll have your answers in a few hours, Jensen”, you said quietly, your voice wavering as you stared at the road ahead. “While I’m…”. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to twist the knife any deeper, but the weight of everything inside you pushed it out. “I’m left with believing that this picture was just staged. For me, there isn’t some test results showing you didn’t lie”.

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel the tension rolling off Jensen in waves, his knuckles tightening again on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, and his chest rose and fell heavily as though he was struggling to contain his emotions.

“That’s not fair”, he said finally, his voice low but filled with restrained pain. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t feel like I’m walking a tightrope too? I’m putting everything on the line for you, and you’re telling me you’re stuck ‘believing’?”.

You turned to face him, the tears streaming down your cheeks making it hard to see. “Because that’s all I have, Jensen!”, you snapped, the frustration and heartbreak spilling over. “I don’t have proof. I don’t have a test result to tell me you didn’t kiss her, or let her get that close, or—”. You stopped, biting down on your trembling lip as your voice broke.

Jensen exhaled sharply, his hand slamming against the steering wheel in frustration. “I’ve told you the truth, dammit! I’ve told you over and over that I didn’t want any of that, that I didn’t let it happen. But yeah, sure, you’re right—there’s no test for that. All I have is my word, and apparently, that’s not enough”.

The car slowed as he pulled over to the side of the road, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. He turned to look at you, his green eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and anger.

“I love you, okay?”, he said, his voice cracking. “More than I’ve loved anyone. But if you can’t believe me—if you can’t trust me even after I’ve laid everything bare—then what’s the point?”.

"You don’t trust me either!”, you fired back, your voice shaking but firm as you glared at Jensen. “You made that appointment to check your fucking sperm instead of believing me! None of us is better than the fucking other right now!”.

Jensen’s face twisted with frustration, his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Don’t you dare turn this on me!”, he shouted, his voice rising in anger. “I made that appointment because the fucking math doesn’t add up! Because I needed to know if there was even a chance—any chance—that what you’re saying is real!”.

“And I’m supposed to just sit here and be okay with that?”, you snapped, your voice trembling as you stared him down. “You think it doesn’t hurt that you doubted me enough to even need those results? You think it doesn’t tear me apart that you couldn’t just believe me?”.

“I couldn’t!”, Jensen shouted, his voice breaking as he slammed his hand against the wheel again. “Not because I don’t want to, but because I’ve been lied to before! Manipulated before! I can’t—I can’t go through that again. Not with you”.

His voice cracked on the last words, and for a moment, the tension in the car shifted, his anger giving way to something rawer, more vulnerable. His shoulders sagged as he leaned back in his seat, running a hand down his face as if trying to pull himself together.

The words caught in your throat, tangled and heavy as you tried to process what he’d just said. You weren’t any better, and you knew it. You hadn’t trusted him either, even when he’d told you the picture was staged. You wanted to defend yourself, to explain how the doubt crept in, but the truth was, you couldn’t. You didn’t have an excuse.

Jensen let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking his head as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Welcome to the world of Danneel”, he muttered, his voice dripping with anger and exhaustion. He slammed his palm against the wheel again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the car. “That’s exactly what she fucking wanted. And we’re just giving it to her, aren’t we?”.

You flinched slightly at the force of his anger, your stomach churning not just from the tension but from the nausea that still lingered. “Jensen…”, you began softly, unsure of what to say, unsure if anything you said would even matter.

He turned his head slightly, his gaze fixed out of the window as his chest heaved with uneven breaths. “She wanted this”, he said again, his voice quieter now but no less sharp. “She wanted to plant doubt, to mess with my fucking head, with your head. And it worked. Because now, here we are, tearing each other apart, just like she fucking planned”.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, your fingers trembling as his words sank in. “I didn’t mean to doubt you”, you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want to. But it just… it hurt so much, seeing that picture, reading that message…”.

Jensen’s head snapped back toward you, his eyes blazing. “And you think it didn’t hurt to have you shut me out for days? To be accused of cheating when I’ve done everything—everything—to prove to you that I want this life with you?”.

The tears you’d been trying to hold back spilled over, slipping silently down your cheeks.

Jensen closed his eyes tightly, his hands gripping the wheel again before he finally let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I would never cheat on you, (Y/N)!”, he said firmly, his voice trembling slightly but filled with conviction. “Never. Do you hear me? I love you way too much for that”.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he didn’t let you, shaking his head as his voice grew louder, more desperate. “What do you want me to do? You want me to fucking propose to you to finally make you believe me? Alright, fine. I’ll fucking propose”.

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, the weight of them stunned you both. His chest heaved as he stared at you, his eyes glistening, his jaw tight. It wasn’t just anger—it was fear, heartbreak, and a desperate attempt to keep you from slipping away.

“Jensen…”, you whispered, your voice barely audible as you reached out to him, your trembling hand resting on his arm. “That’s not what this is about”.

“Then what is it about?”, he snapped, though his voice cracked under the strain. “Because I don’t know how else to prove to you that I’m all in. That I love you. That I would never, never hurt you like that”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, your chest aching as his words pierced through the fog of doubt and fear that had been clouding your heart. You could see it in his face, hear it in his voice—he wasn’t just angry; he was breaking. And the realization broke something in you too.

“You would really marry me just to make me believe you?”, you whispered through your sobs, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your voice was shaky, almost disbelieving, as you stared at Jensen. You knew how much he hated the thought of marriage—how his past with Danneel had made the idea feel like a trap rather than a promise. The fact that he would even suggest it now hit you harder than anything else.

Jensen’s green eyes softened slightly, his grip on the wheel loosening as his shoulders sagged. “Yes”, he said quietly, his voice rough but steady. “If that’s what it takes. If that’s what I have to do to make you see that I’m not going anywhere… then yeah. I’d marry you”.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But it’s not just to prove something, (Y/N)”, he continued, his voice lowering. “I’d marry you because I want to. Because you’re it for me. You’re my future. I don’t care about the past anymore—I just want you”.

Your breath hitched, your heart twisting as his words broke through the layers of fear and doubt that had been building for days. “Jensen…”, you started, but your voice cracked, and you couldn’t get the words out.

He turned to face you fully, his hands reaching for yours. His grip was warm and firm, grounding you in the moment. “I know I’ve been a mess”, he said softly. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I know it’s hard to trust me right now. But I’m telling you, (Y/N), I will do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us”.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes stealing the breath from your lungs. “I don’t need you to marry me”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “I just… I need to know we’re okay. That we can get through this”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he nodded. “We will,” he promised, his voice strong and certain. “We’ll get through this. Together”.

For the first time in days, a small flicker of hope sparked in your chest. You didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, with Jensen’s hands holding yours and his eyes locked on yours, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could face it together.

Jensen hesitated, his hands still holding yours tightly, his green eyes searching your face as though he could find the truth hidden in your expression. His jaw clenched, and he took a shaky breath, his voice quieter this time but no less urgent.

“Can you promise me?”, he asked, his tone laced with raw vulnerability. “Can you promise me, right here, right now, that you didn’t cheat on me?”.

Your heart ached at the question, at the pain it revealed. He was laying everything bare, risking so much just to find some semblance of clarity in the storm that had overtaken your lives. Tears welled in your eyes again as you nodded, your voice trembling but firm.

“I promise”, you said, looking him directly in the eyes. “Jensen, I promise I didn’t cheat on you. I’ve never even thought about it. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t”.

Jensen closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling heavily as he processed your words. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were softer, the sharp edge of anger replaced with something more vulnerable. “Then… I believe you”, he whispered, his voice low and hesitant, as though saying it out loud made him feel exposed.

He pulled away slightly, his hands leaving yours as he leaned back into his seat, his posture stiff and tense. The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the weight of everything that had been said and unsaid between you. Neither of you seemed to know how to fill the space, the quiet stretching out like a chasm.

Eventually, Jensen broke it, his voice quiet but firm as he nodded toward the container of food he’d brought for you earlier. “You need to eat something”, he mumbled, not looking directly at you but still glancing toward the untouched bowl of rice.

Your stomach churned at the thought of eating, but the concern in his voice made you hesitate. You glanced at the food and then back at him, noticing the lines of exhaustion etched into his face, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced now than they’d been even hours ago.

“I don’t know if I can keep it down”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen sighed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You have to try”, he said, his tone more gentle this time. “Even if it’s just a little. You haven’t eaten properly in days, and… you’re pregnant… you need to take care of yourself”.

The mention of the pregnancy made your chest tighten, but you nodded, reaching for the container with trembling hands. Jensen watched you for a moment, his gaze steady but filled with worry, before he leaned back again, running a hand through his hair as though trying to pull himself together.

You took a small bite of the rice, forcing it down despite the way your stomach protested. The quiet between you lingered, but there was a faint shift, a fragile truce beginning to take shape. For now, it was enough.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309 @kamisobsessed @deansimpalababy @magnificientgirl @ @dulcescorderitas

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles the boys #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #spn cast #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #his true fate

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fixyourwritinghabits · 18 hours ago

Note

What do I do when the characters have chosen to go somewhere that makes sense, but leads absolutely nowhere?

I know exactly what you mean, and fixing it is certainly not impossible. It's pretty natural, especially if you're a pantser, to have your characters end up in a situation that wipes out all the tension. (It's easy to fall into this as a plotter too, so beware.) What you need to do is turn up the pressure in the plot, both externally and internally.

Possible Problem 1: Your Characters Are Too Comfortable. If your characters don't have enough internal conflict going on, they might just not want to move forward with the plot. This is a really easy hole to fall into (for all the stereotypes of writers tormenting their characters, I find it's much harder not to pull punches, especially with the first draft). Drive up that internal conflict within the characters and with each other. Laying down a subplot about an unrequited crush or a secret identity that implodes right when your characters feel safe can help get them going again. An argument between characters that causes them to do something reckless might be the catalyst you need.

Possible Problem 2: Not Enough Plot Tension. If your characters have lost steam, they may be in the wrong place. You may need to ramp up the danger by backtracking in the plot to lay down more external pressure to keep the characters going. A ticking clock fueled by the need to cure a deadly disease, a looming threat that's on their heels. If your characters still end up in a spot that too easily solves their problems, cut them off from getting there! The pass collapses, forcing them through the shadowy woods instead.

Possible Problem 3: You Don't Have the Next Plot Point Lined Up. If you're pantsing and are stuck (or if your outline isn't working), sometimes you just gotta take a moment to figure out where your characters actually need to be next and jump to that point. Sometimes writing out the next big scene will help you figure out how to build the connective tissue between them. Sometimes you will write "fix this later" and curse your past self into oblivion. We've all been there.

Possible Problem 4: You Might Just Need a (Short) Break. Truly stuck? Inspiration often strikes when you take your mind off the issue. Go for a walk, play a video game, try not to think of your writing issue for a couple of days. You'll likely realize the solution in the middle of doing something else.

Now, all of these techniques are for writing a story or a novel. If you're plotting out a game, you may just need to drop a Big Bad in the middle of things to force your characters into action. (Hell, you may need to do that for your novel too.) The most important thing is that no matter how clunkily you fix it, you can always go back and smooth over those rough parts with the power of hindsight.

#plotting #drafting #writing advice #writblr

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bitchface24-7 · 12 hours ago

Text

PLEASANT COMPLIANCE - JAYVIK X READER

Inspired by @newgipestel and their amazing ideas for a PT2, thank them as well for this masterpiece

synopsis: things have changed between you three. Cole is long gone, but the three of you have been separated against your will. Jayce with the council, you with sponsors, and Viktor with Heimerdinger or working solo in the lab. So when the three of you have a weekend to yourselves, you take it. Your apartment is yours only now, and you’ve missed your boys desperately.

warnings: this is smut y’all, pre-established relationship, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, praise, dom!viktor, switch!jayce, sex toys, dp, unsafe sex, breeding kink, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), y’all this is filthy LMAO, grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. y’all this was a blast to write, I know y’all loved PT1 so I hope PT2 tickles your fancy as well. Oh to be the meat in the Jayvik sandwich 😩

PART 1

Waking up naked on the ruined lab couch was not part of your plans, but who are you to complain? You finally broke up with your shitty boyfriend Cole, got your back blown out by the two men you've had a crush on since forever, and they reciprocate those feelings.

Unfortunately, y'all have a gala to return back to. You've been gone for almost an hour now and people are going to wonder where you've been. Good thing you have some spare makeup lying around in the lab.

The three of you don't have the healthiest sleep schedule, so quite often one, two, or all three of you sleep in the lab at some point. Having backup makeup, a small bottle of perfume, and spare clothes lying around make life much easier. Your two boys are slowly redressing as you make your way to a simple mirror hanging on the wall.

You're a mess.

Your hair's a mess, your makeup is almost all gone, and a few hickey's grace your neck. You scan your body and find hand-shaped bruises on your hips. That's going to hurt in the morning, but it'll be worth it.

Reapplying your makeup and fixing your hair to the best of your ability, you put your dress back on. A cold hand touches your lower back as the zipper slides up effortlessly, it's Viktor.

"It's quite a shame to see those lovely marks disappear." His tone is dark as the words smoothly leave his lips in a quiet purr. You bit the inside of your cheek and look at him over your shoulder, "You can see them again later."

"Promise?" Jayce asks, his tone light and full of teasing. You roll your eyes fondly at the broad man, "Promise."

The three of you exit the lab and head back to the gala, back to the snake pit to get what you need. You need money. You need sponsers.

So that's what you're going to get.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning was hectic. Frantically running around your empty apartment to get ready for the day.

Back to your usual outfits yet you look better than over. Having the toxic ex out of your life has made you glow (getting your back blown out last night obviously doesn't have anything to do with it) you can't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Its been a while since you've seen her, and you're happy to see her again.

Unfortunately, you won't be able to see your boys for a while. You have a multitude of meetings to attend as you got many sponsors last night after your lab time with your lovers.

Hopefully everything goes to plan.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It does not go to plan. You thought that even with all of your meetings, you'd still be able to see your boys.

You haven't.

You try. Damn do you try. You go to the lab as often as you can. Teasing looks, lingering touches, long kisses, until something pops up.

Another meeting.

Another council gathering.

More work from Heimerdinger.

Prototypes that need to be made.

Equations and runes to explore.

Work.

And even more work.

All three of you can feel the tension rising. You feel overly hot around them. Your thighs tensing together, your bottom lip bit to inflammation, your eyes wandering to places they shouldn't in polite society.

Viktor and Jayce are just the exact same way.

So when the three of you have a free weekend together, you snatch it up as fast as you possibly can.

Fuck everyone else, you three need to fuck each other, now.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Getting to your apartment felt like the blink of an eye. Before you knew it you were getting pushed into your apartment as Jayce kissed you desperately, Viktor casual walks in after you two and shuts the door; locking it behind him.

Jayce groans pathetically into your mouth as you ruck his shift up and rip it apart. Buttons flying everywhere, Jayce gasps in shock as you leave his mouth to kiss down his throat, biting and nipping along your path to get to his chest.

His big eyes are watery and his face is flushed. He looks even prettier debauched as he does in his day-to-day life.

“Stop.” Viktor demands, his voice monotone and sharp. Jayce whines as you pull away, your lips puffy and pouty.

Viktor walks up to you and runs a hand down your back before cupping your waist in a bruising grip, over the pre-existing bruises from the previous night. You hiss lightly at the pleasurable pain and Viktor just smirks, “Good girl. Now, shall you lead us to your room?”

You can't help but nod excitedly, and lead them down the small hallway to your large bedroom. They can't help but admire the decor. It's all… you. The one thing they can't ignore is how large your bed is. It’s too big for one person.

But perfect for three.

Before you realize what's going on, Viktor pushes Jayce into the bed. The larger man bounces a bit as a bewildered smile overtakes his face, “Would you like for her to sit on your face Jayce? You've been pining and whining over this tidbit for the last week. So desperate, so needy.”

Jayce nods rapidly and you just giggle, taking your pants and underwear off leaving your bra and blouse on. You get onto the bed, put your legs on each side of Jayce's head and hover a bit, not wanting to squish him.

You don't get a choice as Jayce grips your hips and forces you down, his mouth immediately suckling onto your clit as his beard rubs deliciously against your thighs. God, everything’s been so busy that Jayce hasn't had the time to groom himself like he usually does. Neither you or Viktor are complaining, his longer hair and beard make him even more attractive.

The whiny moans that escape you make you want to hide your face but Viktor doesn't let you, kissing you passionately as he lecherously fondles your tits over your bra. Eventually, he shucks your top off and takes your bra off with one hand. You're completely nude as your two boys devour you.

Your orgasm slowly creeps up and before you know it stars overtake your vision as you gasp out your lover's names. Viktor looks pleased, Jayce looks pussy drunk.

You're just out of breath.

You slowly get off Jayce and lie down on your plush bed, Viktor ever the ambitious one, takes his own top and vest off and joins you on the bed, pinning you down as he recolours the faded marks on your neck and chest.

“You did say I'd get to see them later.” He teases, his eyes glittery as he looks at you, a coy smirk on his pink lips.

“That I did.”

He redoes the marks from a week ago and adds a few more, just cause. What a possessive man.

“Jayce,” Viktor starts, his tone demanding but kind, “See if she has any lube. It's been a while, and I don't want her to be in any unnecessary pain.”

Jayce just nods and goes to your bedside drawer, you're too invested in Viktors plush lips to notice whats going on.

A small gasp is heard as Jayce looks over his shoulder to stare at you two, then before you can ask whats wrong, Jayce takes the drawer out of its spot and dumps the contents out onto the bed.

Lube, vibrators, dildos, a flogger, handcuffs, silk ties, butt plugs, toys galore.

Jayce looks shocked, Viktor looks intrigued.

You want to die.

“Oh? What's this?” Viktor asks, his voice full of sweet teasing. He picks up a multitude of toys, looking at them like puzzles he needs to solve. Jayce looks curious too.

“Well—” you start, sitting up onto your elbows as Viktor straddles you, “You know how… unhappy I was with Cole.”

Jayce and Viktor grumble and grimace at the mans name. Yes, they know.

“It extended into the bedroom.” Viktor plainly states, you nod and Jayce scoffs.

“Of course it did. Man was too insecure about us being friends to even properly please you.”

“What a shame. Sucks to be him.”

“Guys!”

Viktor and Jayce just snicker as you fail to look angry at them. Damn them. They're too loveable to stay mad at. Especially since now, they both look so excited at the prospect of using your toys, particularly Jayce. You swear you can envision puppy ears perking up and a tail wagging vigorously.

“So… this changes our plans.” Viktor casually states as he continues to look at your toys, Jayce smirks, and you just feel confused flusteredness, “What do you mean?”

“Well… now we have more options, don't we? One you were going to keep hidden from us.” Viktor’s causal tone gets darker, sensual. You can't help but feel your face heat up.

Jayce adds in, “How naughty! What're you thinking Vik?”

“I’m thinking doing something we haven't done yet.” He teases as he holds up your jewelled buttplug. The jewel looks strikingly similar to a hexgem. Viktor's smirk widens at that realization.

Your eyes widen. Oh… Oh. He wants…

Before you can finish your thought, Jayce excitedly adds, “At once or at the same time?”

“Same time.”

You choke, lightly pounding your chest, “Can we all get on the same page? Same hole or… separate?” Jayce and Viktor look at one another and chuckle.

“Separate. For now, Don’t want to overwhelm you. It's been a while since we've had sex. Jayce, which hole would you like?”

“… Anal.”

“Oooh look at you Golden Boy. Kinkier than we thought. Wanna prep her?”

“Uh, hell yeah! Viktor lay down, babe get on top of him.” Viktor quirks a brow at the demand but follow's through, as do you. You help Viktor out of his bottoms and appreciate how hung he is. Honestly it's a bit intimidating, if you haven't gotten accustomed to his size you'd be a bit scared. Luckily for you, Jayce prepped you quite well his his mouth and fingers.

You slowly sink down onto Viktor's cock and hiss lightly, the stretch delicious but a bit painful with a dull sting. Viktor groans as his head tilts back. Jayce whines watching you two. He goes for your bottle of lube and pops the cap open, the snap of the bottle is almost deafening in the room.

Jayce warms the lube up in his hand and circles his finger around your rim. You whine a bit at the unfamiliar feeling, Viktor shushes you and kisses your temple, reaching down with a free hand to rub your clit.

Simultaneously Jayce inserts one finger. You whine louder and Viktor rubs your clit a bit faster, Jayce slowly pumps his finger in your ass. The feeling is a bit strange, but you're enjoying it.

This continues on a bit before Jayce adds more lube to his hand and adds a second finger, eventually he adds a third. You're panting at how overwhelmed your body is. All you can feel in immeasurable amounts of pleasure. Jayce then adds his cock into the equation, he slowly pushes in and Viktor rubs your clit harshly. You feel Jayce's happy-trail against you ass as he fully sheaths, and you cum.

The feeling of being stuffed, Viktor and Jayce praising you, the vigorous rubbing of your clit. You were done for.

Jayce whines, "Fuck. It's so tight. Vik, I can feel your cock against mine."

A chuckle is all you hear before a sharp thrust jolts against your hips. A precise hit to your g-spot makes you and Jayce moan loudly. Slowly the two men pick up their pace, Viktor's inside your pussy, then Jayce is inside your ass. You're never not stuffed.

Your just trapped in for the ride, panting heavily as your eyes roll to the back of your head. All you can hear are your boys' praising and degrading you at the same time.

"You're doing so good for us darling, so tight, so lovely. So perfect."

"Fuck babe, this is amazing."

"But look at how slutty you are? All these toys, these fantasies that you were going to hide from us. Turns out you aren't a good girl, you're a slut. A whore."

"Our personal slut though, Vik."

"Of course Jayce, of course."

The two men kiss as you're squished in between them. A guttural moan escapes your chest, loud and desperate, and you cum for a third time. You jolt and shake as you squirt over Viktor's cock, small splashes hitting his happy trail and lean stomach. Viktor groans against Jayce's lips as he harshly thrusts his hips into yours, getting balls deep before cumming inside you. God he's cum so much you can feel a small line escaping you and rolling down Viktor's cock onto the bed.

Jayce whines loudly and pulls away from Viktor, gripping your hips harshly as he pounds into your ass. Your moans become more and more whiny as the pitch of your voice gets higher and higher. Eventually Jayce groans deeply and cums inside your ass. He grinds his hips deeply into yours as he drags out his orgasm.

He pulls out slowly, gripping your ass as he pulls your cheeks apart. He appreciates the state he and Viktor left you in. You've flopped down onto Viktor's chest, face down ass up. You're panting as you sloppily kiss Viktor's neck and chest. Leaving more hickeys into the beautiful freckled skin.

You gasp when you feel a bit of a cold feeling enter your ass, keeping you full. You look over your shoulder and all you see in Jayce smirking at you.

"Not gonna let all my hard work go to waste, especially when Vik hasn't had the chance to feel your ass yet."

You laugh in shock.

These two men are going to kill you.

(Thank god you broke up with Cole.)

I VOLUNTER! I VOLUNTEER! *GASP*!WHO SAID THAT?! IT DEFINITELY WASN’T ME 🫣😩😏 hope y'all enjoy this PT2 xoxo ❤️

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane smut #jayvik x reader #jayvik x reader smut #fem!reader #banners by cafekitsune

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moonlight-joy · 2 days ago

Text

Hunt Me Love Me

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You’re an undercover journalist investigating Kraven, but he finds out before you can escape. Instead of killing you, Kraven makes you his captive—curious to see how long it will take for you to fall for him. The longer you stay, the more you realize that you’re not just surviving his captivity… you’re starting to fall for him.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The dim light filtering through the wooden slats of the cabin did little to illuminate the room, but you didn’t need bright light to feel the weight of Kraven’s presence. He leaned against the far wall, his broad shoulders relaxed but his sharp eyes fixed on you like a predator studying its prey. His silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaos in your own mind.

You had been so careful. Months of preparation, research, and subtle probing, all leading up to this moment. You’d come to investigate the man who had eluded law enforcement and fascinated tabloids for years—a hunter who thrived on danger, someone whispered about in dark corners but never truly understood. Sergei Kravinoff, better known as Kraven. But somehow, he had found you first.

“I must admit,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite place, “you’re better than most.”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms. “Better than most what?” you asked, your voice steady despite the tight knot of fear in your chest.

Kraven’s smirk deepened. “Better than most of the fools who think they can outsmart me. They send investigators, bounty hunters, even assassins.” He chuckled, a low and menacing sound. “But you? An undercover journalist. Now that’s clever.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in. He knew. He’d known all along.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you stop me sooner?” you demanded, anger flaring up despite your fear.

Kraven pushed off the wall and crossed the room in a few deliberate strides, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He crouched down so that his face was level with yours, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

“Because,” he said softly, “I wanted to see how far you’d go. How far you’d push yourself to get close to me. And now…” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Now, you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and you leaned back instinctively, trying to put distance between the two of you. But there was no escape. Not here, not now.

“You can’t keep me here,” you said, forcing steel into your voice. “People will come looking for me.”

Kraven’s smirk returned, more dangerous than before. “Let them come. They’ll find nothing. Just like you did.”

He stood and began pacing the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a tiger circling its cage. “You’re not the first to try to unearth my secrets,” he continued. “But you… you’re different. Persistent. Clever. Beautiful.”

The last word hung in the air, and you swallowed hard, refusing to let his compliment shake you.

“You’re a monster,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

Kraven stopped and turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “Perhaps,” he admitted, “but even monsters have their desires. And you… you’ve awakened something in me. Something I haven’t felt in years.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, his presence suffocating. You wanted to scream, to fight, to run. But there was no way out. Instead, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to let him see the fear you felt.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kraven’s smile softened, though it didn’t lose its predatory edge. “I want to see how long it takes for you to stop fighting me,” he said simply. “How long it takes for you to realize that you belong here. With me.”

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself trapped in a strange dance with Kraven. He didn’t harm you, but he didn’t let you go either. Instead, he watched you, studied you, his fascination with you growing by the day. At first, you resisted, refusing to engage with him beyond the bare minimum. But as time passed, something shifted.

He wasn’t what you’d expected. Yes, he was intense, dangerous, and utterly unyielding. But he was also intelligent, thoughtful, and, at times, even kind. He brought you food, ensured you were comfortable, and occasionally shared stories of his past—a past filled with pain and loss, but also with triumphs and victories that few could comprehend.

“Why do you hunt?” you asked him one evening, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Kraven’s gaze flicked to you, his expression thoughtful. “To prove something,” he said finally. “To myself. To the world. To anyone who ever doubted me.”

“And now?” you pressed. “What are you trying to prove now?”

He was silent for a long moment before answering. “That I’m more than what they think I am. And that maybe… there’s more to life than the hunt.”

His words surprised you, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in him. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make you question everything you’d thought about him.

One night, as you lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Kraven’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Sometimes I think I should. But other times…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.

“Other times?” he prompted.

You turned your head to look at him, your chest tightening at the intensity of his gaze. “Other times, I think I understand you more than I want to.”

Kraven’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said. “That’s why I chose you.”

The words sent a jolt through you, and you sat up, staring at him in shock. “Chose me?” you repeated.

Kraven nodded, his expression unrepentant. “I knew who you were from the moment you started your investigation. I let you get close because I wanted to see if you were worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” you demanded, your voice rising.

“Of standing by my side,” he said simply. “Of being more than prey. Of being… mine.”

The truth of his words hit you like a physical blow. All this time, you’d thought you were the one chasing him, the one uncovering his secrets. But in reality, he’d been hunting you all along.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Kraven stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “Perhaps. But you’re still here. And that tells me I’m not the only one who feels this.”

You wanted to deny it, to scream that he was wrong. But deep down, a small, treacherous part of you knew he wasn’t. And that terrified you more than anything.

The days that followed were a blur of conflicting emotions. You hated him for what he’d done, for the way he’d manipulated you. But you couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you, the way his presence stirred something deep within you.

And slowly, against all logic and reason, you began to wonder if staying with him wasn’t a cage… but a choice.

Please support my work with like and comment

#kraven #kraven the hunter #kraven x reader #kraven movie #kraven x you #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter movie #kraven the hunter x reader #aaron taylor johnson #aarontaylorjohnson

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yok00k · 9 hours ago

Text

pensándote

pairing: yandere!bf!jk x reader

genre: angst, smut

summary: your boyfriend is getting more and more possessive and it's starting to affect your relationship. however, he's willing to change for the better. or you thought so.

warnings: MATURE- shower sex(rough), videotaping, jk hits it from the back, oc called jk 'daddy', ass smacking, cheeks were getting clapped, mentioned lots of sex positions, oc got slutted out, jk is lowkey/highkey toxic, sick, and unhealthy, toxic relationship, attachment issues, argument, jk is a stalker w ill behavior/action, [still in denial], open ending[there might be a next part, depending on how rough life could be], not proof read bc writing this is a silly little hobby

word count: 1,611

a/n: ho i’m back and better than ever!!! note that english is not my first language and I write for funsies>..< (this ff is inspired by rauw's pensandote) — to those who knows a lot of reggaeton bangers plz hmu for recs thx

-Llevo to' el día pensándote

“baby wait up” he calmly pleaded, trying to catch up to you. still, you continue to ignore him.

It was about to be 3 a.m. when you and you boyfriend arrived to your apartment from a girls’ night. you and your homegirls planned to have a night out to have let some loose and have fun, lots of drinks and men hitting on you being involved of course. living the city night life has been the part of your lifestyle. however it doesn’t play a huge part of your life anymore. barely anymore since you’ve established a romantic relationship with jeongguk– your suitor for six months.

you and jeongguk had the same psychology class last year. oftentimes in that class, you’re either too tired from work or still have a hangover from the party the night before. same parties he goes to just so he can see a glimpse of you from afar, trying his best to see the best view of the entire party while trying to manage being lowkey.

fortunately, jeongguk, who’s sitting next to you in class and also can’t help but to shift his undivided attention to how you’re struggling in some works in class. as a straight A-student and a gentleman, he frequently lends you his notes and offers you help. why? because for some strange reason, he cares for you.

well maybe the care is turning into an obsession. but jeongguk keeps telling himself that he’s being harmless. he simply wants to know. he’s seen you always go out with your close friends, never with any man. on the days you’re not partying, you pick up extra shifts at a nearby coffee shop. how did he know? luck. just happened to stumble upon the shop one day. he swears it’s all coincidence.

or at least he hopes so.

you started to see him so often. at your work, parties, gym, or at the grocery store. again and again that you began to think that this might be destiny. each time you see him, he’s always by himself. minding his own business (or make an effort to seem like it). and it made you a little curious. how come this man doesn’t have any hoe or friends around? you frankly thought ‘maybe just his lifestyle’. one day he finally gets out of his comfort zone and asks you if you would be interested to get to know him. obviously, you’d like to know who he truly is. right?

fast forward after courting you for six months, here you are. coming home from a party with him following behind you.

you would think that he’s going to stop. it’s unexpected and extreme for what he’s about to do next.

and there he is, both knees on the ground. his large palms reaching for your cold hands. kneeling before you like a desperate man he is. He knew exactly what he'd done. “please, let’s fix this”

he used to be fun. less controlling. less obsessive. less possessive.

“oh now you wanna acknowledge the problem?” you scoffed, finding his sudden behavior ridiculous. “fix what problem? you constantly getting overly possessive and manipulative or you just randomly showing up at the party while me and my friends are in the middle of having fun? for fuck sake Jeongguk, let me fucking breathe for once.”

you’re beyond frustrated. the upcoming finals have been stressing the shit out of you and all you need is some space to relieve stress.

“baby, you know I’m just making sure that you’re saf–” he starts off with the excuse he always says, but you’re too quick to call him out. “following me to make sure I’m safe? you’re suffocating me.”

he has no response. he knows it’s true. he’s aware of his excessive actions. no, more like impulses. a thing he can’t control. an itch. jeongguk can’t seem to fight these urges when he knows that there’s lots of men out there that actively hit on you. and he’s terrified, scared that they’ll steal you from his possession as if you’re his favorite toy to ever acquire.

“I think we should just end this. it’s becoming toxic.” you stuttered under your breath, gasping a handful of your hair as you shifted your gaze on the side. ‘he’s becoming toxic’ is what you really want to say.

“I.. I will stop. I will change. let me prove to you that I love you and I only want what’s best for you” he cries, tears slowly rolling on his porcelain face.

“do you still have trust in me?”

you wanted to shake your head, say no.

tragically, your answer is yes. but the real question is will he change for the better?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jeongguk is a man of his words and kept his promise. it had been a couple months after that night and you began to notice the changes in his actions. a huge change.

your boyfriend stops controlling you in a variety of ways. every time you let him know that you’ve got somewhere to go, all he asks for is your assurance that you’re safe and sound. as long as you’re having the best time, he’ll fully support you to whatever it is.

some nights that you have to study and do homework, he’d restrain himself from spamming your inbox. he understood that you have priorities and you’ll get back to him as soon as you can. and you did.

lastly, he recently became more consistent on going to the gym. it makes you extremely happy that he’s investing more time to better himself. physically and mentally. redirecting his focus onto something that’s actually more healthy for him.

or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

so far, so good. you feel secure that everything is working well. your relationship is doing good.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

—"Tú desnuda, yo dándote"

“k-koo, right there baby” you begged as he continued to drill his thick cock into you from the back. slow and deep. and oh, raw. “don’t stop, please.” the lewd sound of your ass clapping against his pelvis echoes in the steamy bathroom. all being captured by your cell phone held by his shaky left hand.

video taping moments like this helps jeongguk cope with his unhealthy behaviors. whenever he feels a tiny bit of jealousy running through his veins, all he has to do is watch these videos to remind himself of what he has.

you, in whatever nastiest positions he puts you in: doggy, backshots, against the wall, cowgirl, missionary, etc. this r-rated file collection you’ve got on your phone reminds him of the chokehold he’s got you in. yes, it’s all saved on your phone, but it’s not like he doesn’t have access through your apps and social accounts, let alone your camera roll. you’re all his. no one else’s. his. solely his. furthermore, he’ll make sure that he can guarantee himself so.

perhaps you don’t need to smoke in order to feel like you’re in heaven right now. going for the 3rd round, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you.

supposedly was a quick shower right after the gym session you had with him turned into a long and enjoyable one.

“yeah? you love getting fuck like this, huh?” his cockiness is on top of the roof, he looks down to watch his veiny shaft disappear inside your pussy just for it to come out and back. he’s got the bestest view. not even a phone camera with flash on can justify that. he then props the camera on top of the toilet, leaning against the wall as it still catches both of your filthy actions.

seeing how much you enjoy this position– bent down in the nearest sink, one hand gripping onto his wrist while the other clutches on the ceramic white sink. the whimpers coming from your skilful mouth can alone make him bust a nut.

when he receives no reply, the hand that helps you to stay in place snakes its way to your hair, collecting a fistful before tugging it back.

“answer, slut” he snapped, demanding an answer from you whilst he proceeds to thrusts in and out. with your eyes rolled back, you’re barely processing what he wants from you. unable to even utter a single proper syllable from how ecstatic he’s making you feel. Indeed, you love being treated like a slut.

in and out. in and out. in and–

smack

a sudden sharp pang on your ass cheek, causing you to moan loudly. “c’mon my love, you’re still with me. right?” he asks, increasing his pace faster. rougher.

“hmm y-yea, love the way you feeel” you desperately murmured, still clouded by the glorious dick he’s giving you.

“m-more,” a single word from you is all that your man needs to hear to continue drilling onto you. rough yet with love.

“almost there, daddy” your breath hitches, still struggling to speak. on the other hand, your words made the man pounding into you even crazier than he already is. he began to notice the signs that you’re about to reach your peak as your walls desperately clenched around him.

he abruptly comes to a stop. pulls out completely from you, resulting in you to release a whine.

jeongguk manhandles your fragile body, turning your body to face him. he pats the side of your thigh, insisting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist.

“want you to look me in the eyes when you come.” he orders, slowly penetrating into you once again, while being face-to-face with you at the same time.

just like his destructive actions filled with obsession, he’s not stopping anytime soon,

is he?

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeongguk fic #jeongguk x reader #jungkooksmut #bangtan #by ioveartfilm

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ditzycafe · 2 days ago

Text

🥐 Softening the edges

Summery ; Estella, a kind-hearted bakery owner in the bustling city of Piltover, is known for her sweet confections and even sweeter demeanor. Sevika, hardened from her life in Zaun, comes into Estella’s life under less-than-ideal circumstances. Over time, they form an unlikely bond that leads to something neither of them expected.

Author note ; I hope you guys like this it took foreverrr but I will be posting more I promise and please send ask 🥹🤍

W/C ; 1.7k

The little bakery on the corner of Piltover’s artisan district was a beacon of warmth and light. Estella, the bakery’s owner, embodied its charm—always bright-eyed, smiling, and wearing flour-dusted aprons. Every day, the aroma of fresh bread, cinnamon buns, and lavender scones floated down the street, luring in even the grumpiest customers. But there was one particular customer Estella had yet to win over: Sevika.

Sevika didn’t frequent sweet shops. Her world was one of underground fights and dirty deals, where niceties were a waste of time. However, she had a habit of stopping by Estella’s bakery—not for pastries, but for strong, bitter coffee. She appreciated that Estella didn’t ask questions or push for small talk. Sevika wasn’t the friendliest person, but she wasn’t about to complain about the only place in Piltover that served a decent cup of black coffee without trying to dress it up.

One cold morning, Sevika swung the door open a little too forcefully, setting the bells above it jingling madly. Estella was kneeling behind the counter, picking up a basket of freshly baked rye loaves. Her eyes popped up at the sound.

“Sevika! Good morning!” Estella’s voice was sunshine. She beamed at the towering, scarred woman in front of her.

“Coffee,” Sevika said flatly.

Estella grinned despite the brusque greeting. “I have some ready. Give me just a second!”

She busied herself behind the counter, pouring the dark brew into a clay mug. Steam curled up, bringing with it the rich, roasted scent that Sevika craved. Estella handed it over with care, their fingers brushing briefly. Sevika jerked her hand back as if burned.

“Careful,” Estella said gently. “It’s hot.”

“Yeah.” Sevika didn’t meet her gaze, eyes fixed on the black surface of her coffee. She turned to leave, but something made her hesitate.

Estella noticed. “You okay?”

Sevika froze. “I’m fine. Don’t ask me that.”

Her tone was harsh, but Estella didn’t flinch. Instead, she softened her expression and leaned on the counter. “Okay. But if you ever want to talk, or… need anything, I’m here. No strings attached.”

Sevika stared at her for a long moment. “I don’t do ‘friendly,’ bakery girl.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Estella replied. “Just offering.”

With a grunt, Sevika pushed open the door and disappeared into the street.

Days passed, and Sevika continued to come for her coffee, though she lingered a little longer each time. Estella started to notice the small things—the way Sevika’s shoulders tensed and relaxed depending on the crowd, the glint of something haunted in her eyes. But she never pried.

One evening, just before closing time, Sevika appeared at the door again. This time, she looked… different. Her arm, the one that had been augmented with shimmer-fueled technology, was sparking. Blood dripped from a cut along her cheekbone.

Estella gasped. “Sevika! What happened?”

“None of your business,” Sevika snapped. She staggered inside, breathing heavily. “Just give me the damn coffee.”

“Coffee’s not what you need right now.” Estella stepped around the counter, grabbing a clean towel. She hesitated only for a second before reaching for Sevika’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping,” Estella said simply. “Sit down before you pass out.”

For once, Sevika didn’t argue. She slumped into a chair, scowling but too tired to protest. Estella pressed the towel to the cut, careful not to irritate it further. Her touch was so gentle, Sevika found herself leaning into it without thinking.

“Does this happen a lot?” Estella asked softly.

Sevika huffed. “Occupational hazard.”

“That’s not really an answer.”

“Stop digging.”

Estella nodded. She didn’t push, instead focusing on cleaning the wound and calming Sevika’s sparking arm. When she was done, Sevika felt lighter than she had in weeks.

“Thanks,” Sevika muttered.

“You’re welcome,” Estella replied, smiling.

The next morning, Sevika returned to the bakery. Estella greeted her with the usual smile, but today there was a small box on the counter.

“What’s that?” Sevika asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“A gift,” Estella said. “Open it.”

Sevika’s first instinct was to refuse, but something in Estella’s expression stopped her. She popped the box open and found a small, perfectly golden pastry inside.

“It’s a honey bun,” Estella explained. “Thought you might like it.”

“I don’t eat sweets.”

“You don’t have to. But it’s here if you want it.”

Sevika carried the box out without another word. Later that night, when no one was watching, she took a bite. It was soft, warm, and tasted like kindness.

The days turned into weeks, and Sevika found herself visiting more often. Estella learned to read her moods—when to chat and when to let silence fill the space. Slowly but surely, Sevika began to open up. Little by little, the bakery became more than just a stop for coffee. It became a safe place.

One rainy evening, Estella was closing up when Sevika knocked on the door. She was soaked to the bone, and her usual gruff demeanor was gone.

“Hey,” Estella said, unlocking the door. “You’re drenched.”

“Yeah.” Sevika stepped inside, water pooling at her feet. “I… didn’t know where else to go.”

Estella’s heart ached at the vulnerability in those words. “You’re always welcome here.”

She fetched a towel and some tea, guiding Sevika to sit by the small fireplace in the corner. For the first time, Sevika let herself relax completely.

“You’re too good, you know that?” Sevika said quietly.

“I just care,” Estella replied. “About people. About you.”

Sevika looked up, meeting Estella’s gaze fully. “I don’t deserve it.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Something shifted between them then—a fragile, unspoken understanding. Sevika reached for Estella’s hand, and Estella didn’t pull away.

For the first time in a long time, Sevika felt like she belonged.

The days following that rainy evening felt different. Sevika still grumbled and glared at anyone who looked at her the wrong way, but Estella noticed something new—she lingered longer, softened more easily, and even gave small, grateful smiles when no one else was watching.

One afternoon, Estella had just finished arranging a tray of berry tarts when the bell over the bakery door rang. She turned, expecting the usual sight of Sevika in her thick coat. But instead, Sevika was standing there, looking unusually uncertain. In her hands was something wrapped in crumpled brown paper.

“What’s this?” Estella asked, stepping closer.

Sevika cleared her throat, looking everywhere but at Estella. “You’re always giving me stuff. Thought it was… time I returned the favor.”

Estella’s heart skipped a beat as she gently took the package and unwrapped it. Inside was a small, intricately carved wooden flower—a lotus, to be exact. Its petals were smooth and delicate, with a faint shimmer of varnish.

“It’s beautiful,” Estella whispered, tracing the edges.

“Not really,” Sevika said, her voice gruff. “It’s just… something I made when I had downtime.”

“It’s perfect,” Estella insisted. She set the carving on the counter and took Sevika’s hand without thinking. “Thank you.”

For a long, quiet moment, Sevika didn’t pull away.

But life in Piltover and Zaun was never simple, and peace never lasted long.

Late one evening, Sevika arrived at the bakery, breathless and tense. “Estella,” she said urgently. “You need to close up. Now.”

Estella blinked, confused by Sevika’s sharp tone. “Why? What’s going on?”

“There’s trouble,” Sevika growled. “Some old enemies of mine are looking for leverage. If they find out you’re—” She stopped herself, jaw tightening.

“If they find out I’m what?” Estella asked, stepping closer.

Sevika swallowed hard. “Important to me.”

Estella’s eyes softened, but there was no time for tenderness. Outside, the sound of heavy boots echoed down the street.

“Back room,” Sevika ordered. “Now.”

Estella obeyed without question, ducking behind the storage door. Sevika turned to face the entrance just as a group of thugs burst in. They were scarred, dirty, and armed with brass knuckles and jagged blades.

“Well, well,” the leader sneered. “If it isn’t Sevika. Heard you’ve gone soft.”

Sevika cracked her knuckles. “You’re about to find out just how soft I am.”

The fight was brutal but quick. Sevika moved with the precision of someone who had fought a thousand battles. In mere minutes, the thugs were sprawled on the bakery floor, groaning in pain. Sevika wiped blood from the corner of her mouth and turned to the back room.

“It’s over,” she called.

Estella rushed out, her eyes wide with worry. “Sevika—your arm—”

“It’s nothing,” Sevika muttered.

“It’s not nothing.” Estella grabbed a first-aid kit and started tending to the bruises and cuts. Her hands trembled slightly as she worked.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Sevika said softly.

“I choose to.” Estella met her gaze, her expression fierce and unwavering. “I care about you, Sevika. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something inside Sevika cracked—something she had kept locked away for years. Without thinking, she cupped Estella’s face with her good hand.

“I don’t deserve you,” Sevika whispered.

“Yes, you do,” Estella said firmly. “More than anyone I know.”

And before Sevika could argue, Estella leaned in and kissed her—soft, sweet, and full of everything Sevika had been afraid to hope for.

The next morning, the bakery felt lighter. Estella hummed as she kneaded dough, and Sevika sat at her usual table with a steaming mug of coffee. The sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the space and casting golden light across the floor.

For the first time, Sevika felt at peace.

“You’re happy,” Estella said, noticing the change in Sevika’s expression.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Sevika grumbled, but there was no edge to her voice.

Estella laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

They spent the day together, Estella teaching Sevika how to make pastries despite Sevika’s insistence that “baking is for soft people.” By the end of the lesson, flour coated both of them, and Sevika’s scowl had turned into something dangerously close to a smile.

As the day faded into evening, Estella wrapped her arms around Sevika from behind.

“Stay for dinner?” Estella asked.

Sevika turned, resting her forehead against Estella’s. “I’m not used to this.”

“I know,” Estella said softly. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

Sevika kissed her again, slow and tender. And for the first time in a long, long while, she believed that maybe—just maybe—there was a future worth fighting for.

The end..

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omgfangirlland · 2 hours ago

Text

The Shadows That Nurture 15

Don't really have anything to say 🫠 thank y'all for the attention, for reading etc, ch 16 is done, ch 17 may take longer cuz I think I'm catching a cold so uhhh- enjoy and stay safe!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 15 >>next(TBC)

Jason was having a terrible week, starting with Ms. “I wouldn’t have been as forgiving if you didn’t die and came back kinder to me” Wayne- well- Grayson? He doesn’t know anymore- he’s close enough to just forging papers that say you’re his biological little sister just to fuck with Bruce.

Speaking of- Jason hasn’t turned on his coms and the phone specifically for the bats since the night the family found out. He’s seriously debating throwing those devices out the window, but he finds it more entertaining how everyone is in shambles.

Granted, while the others have tried cornering him to- politely ask questions- Jason is more paranoid about Damian and Cassandra. Cassandra not speaking wasn’t something he worried about, but her not texting him nonsense throughout the day made him antsy. Adding to that the fact that the demon brat didn’t even try to knife him down once? Yeah, no, Jason was on edge. Either those two were planning something or they knew something the others didn’t- frankly, he didn’t like either option.

He and the other rogues have been upping the attack on the rich to try and exhaust the bats, take their attention from you- but with each attack the bats seemed to care less and less. And if they did show up, they were starting to punch harder, to break more bones, to use those “only when necessary” blades more and more. They were getting angrier, desperate, and dangerous.

Good. It was about time they saw what they’d been pushing to the side, what they all did at one point. However, Red Hood was getting angrier at the pure audacity they had to just snoop around his turf every 13th of the month, they’ve been doing it for a while, sure, but they got sloppier with their stealth. It was making everyone nervous, the kids especially.

And now the gall of him to show up as Bruce Wayne, with that blasted fake smile, and that sweet, sweet food from Alfred. “Bruce. What are you doing here?” Harvey’s voice broke Jason from drooling over the buffet Pennyworth had made. “I-…” Bruce took in a shaky breath. Batman knew he should have rehearsed something, but lately, he’s only done impulsive things. “I’ve been a terrible father to my youngest daughter. I’m sure you all know that- I’m trying to slowly see the great achievements she made despite that and to try and understand her better.”

“And we’re supposed to believe that?” Waylon growled, tail tapping the asphalt anxiously. Harley backed Croc up, grinding into the ground the fact that he’d never tried before, that it’s been years. But one of the kids ignored the tension, coming up to the man and just grabbing his hand, smiling brightly at him.

“She always told us that some people are worth giving second chances.” The little girl looks back at the others. “He’s seeing he did bad and trying to fix it.” She shrugged and the rogues couldn’t argue. Without those second chances they wouldn’t be here, but that doesn’t mean they’ll make it easy for the trust fund baby. “Well, Mr. Wayne. Better get to work.” Two-face cackled as Cobblepot started directing the man to start carrying old, unusable furniture out of the buildings, giving the goons a break.

Jason turned to look at the little girl, his hands on his hips. “You stole his watch.” It wasn’t a question, it was very much a statement, a statement at which the little kid just smiled brightly. “She always said to rob the rich blind, too, and that man is too trusting of little kids. I got his ring too.” Jay couldn’t argue with that, so he just ruffled the little rascal’s hair and went on his way.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I’m sorry- You have to marry a fish?!” You almost yelled into the com as you stopped a car from splatting a woman. “And C is just letting that happen? I’m telling you, he’ll become enemy number one.” Setting the car down, ignoring Cecil saying he could hear you, you quickly grabbed the woman and flew to the protective dome where most civilians were staying safe. Your eyes met hers and you immediately complimented the bright green color. “Wha- not you two morons! I was talking to somebody else- Yes, I’m on the job.” You sigh as you set her down before getting back to action.

“Robot wanted me on the scene to take care of the civis, said something about Immortal needing the win, but uh…” You watch as the man gets overwhelmed and decapitated, his body going limp while Dupli-Kate and Black Samson try to get to him. “It’s kinda pathetic. They’re not fighting like a team. Robot, Shrinking Rae, and Moster Girl seem to be the only ones able to keep up.”

Cecil just sighs, turning on the coms for everyone. “Sorceress. End it, now.” While Robot tried to argue against it you just acted, getting tired of this mess. Getting higher in the air your hands raised, eyes glowing as you muttered some of the new spells Zatanna and John taught you.

Most of the aliens fell to the ground lured into a deep sleep state while the ones who could fight against the magic were quickly chained- all, with a wave of your hands, fell through a portal straight to their home planet. Landing you grabbed the Immortal’s head, moving closer and sticking it close enough that the skin started reattaching on its own. When you got up Kate was quick to tell you off and take your place, pulling the man onto her lap.

You just shrugged making your way to Robot and Amanda. “What’s her problem?” You mutter while subtly checking everyone out for injuries. Rex almost crashed onto you as he groaned, arm swinging over your shoulder. “She’s pissy because you and the ass were a thing, and she thinks he still likes you.” You frown, hand hovering over his face to fix the bloody mess. “That’s stupid. We weren’t. And if we were and he was still after me she should put herself first and find someone who won’t make her feel like that.”

“Wait- they are together? Like for real?” You look at the others as they get closer, most nodding. “You two weren’t? You really expect me to believe that-agh! You did that knowingly!” Rex cried as a bone set back in place quite painfully while you simply answered with a yes.

“Most of the heroes thought that. You two were pretty friendly for a while.” Black Samson shrugs. “Yeah, because we’re both immortal. We were venting about that, we understood each other, and then… Omni-Man happened, and he called me and my brother ticking bombs. Too dangerous to be helping.” Amanda hissed at that, face cringing. “Damn, that’s such an asshole thing of him to say.”

“I don’t hold that against him. But we are not our father, he should know better, and I won’t hang around him until he apologizes and means it.” You looked over your shoulder as the man in question groaned. “Speaking of- time for me to go.” You let go of the healed Rex, pat Robot’s head, and high-five Amanda. “See you later, losers.” Rudy looks at Amanda. “Why did she pat my head?” Monster girl snorts. “It’s called affection- don’t!” she slapped his hand away. “Don’t do that to me, I’ll break your legs.”

Before you could lift off the ground once you were far enough the woman you saved before quickly stopped you, calling you over. “I just wanted to thank you. Have you eaten? Perhaps I can buy you something? There’s this café down this street, they make amazing toast sandwiches and milkshakes.” You just laughed; not like you could say no to free food. “You don’t have to thank me or pay for-“ You tried to be a lady and politely refuse, but the woman insisted, urging you to take her and have a little break.

“Alright, ma’am, you won.” You smirked as you picked her up before taking flight. “May I know the name of who’s paying for my meal, at least? I mean, I may start thinking you’re an assassin or something if you keep being so mysterious and pushy.” You teased while following her directions, but she just gave you a smirk. “I’m Talia.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Bruce was sitting next to Jason, looking at the kids and rogues, but his eyes couldn’t help but drift to the murals. “She really did all of this?” Jason just nodded at his question. “She did a lot. This is a small thing. Your foundations can only do so much, Bruce. Sometimes people need community, need love, and support, and to feel like they belong. She gave that to a lot of people here.”

He nods to the murals. “When she was painting those, some kids tagged it. She caught them and asked them to join, telling them she’d pay. And she did. It was enough for those kids to keep a roof over their heads while we were building the affordable housing building down the block, and it was enough for them to put towards education.”

“One is aiming to be an engineer and the other two are going for art subjects.” Jason looks at the man. “Many of the goons Batman was fighting quickly quit and started working at the orphanage or the hospital once they found out they could afford to live and their wants with the salary offered. You can’t always solve shit by paying for buildings, sometimes that does the opposite. It just makes shit more expensive when it has the name of some billionaire attached to it.”

“This? Helping each other, creating things they can afford while opening job opportunities everyone is qualified for, and nobody will have to break their backs only to decide if they should pay for groceries or rent that month- that helped. It brought the crime rate down. Sure, I still sell drugs, crimes still happen, but surprisingly that has gone down for my zone too.”

“She has a job now, a well-paying one. So, the allowance you send mostly goes to this- I think she even sends some of her actual salary here. I began adding to it, and Penguin started doing similar on his turf.” Jason shrugs. “We gather it all and split it so everyone can pay bills, can have money for groceries, and clothes, and even have some extra on the side. Some still don't get paid enough due to the government not wanting to fund us, but what we put together helps make what is a 7-dollar-per-hour job into a 20-25-30-dollar-per-hour job. When she sends too much, we either give bonuses or put it to vote and repair something. It usually ends up being that, it’s how we repaired the local kindergarten and school. It’s how we repaired a lot.”

“I never knew-“ Jason just laughs at Bruce. “Yeah, I didn’t either. I was a little shit like you, too, remember? It took me dying to see that.” The young crime lord looks Bruce in the eyes. “That’s why I won’t tell you where she is, what she does, who she is now.” Bruce looks at his son, the tiredness in him shining through now more than ever. “She’s in Chicago, lived in NYC for a bit.” The older man mutters.

“I’m… I’m afraid of how she’d react, of what I will find out if I go looking for her.” He whispers and Jason simply shakes his head. “You’re afraid she’ll reject you, brush you off like you did. You’d deserve it. Everyone in this blasted family would.”

Bruce nods. He wasn’t able to sleep for a while after finding out one of his kids was missing and he didn't even know. He mostly sat in his office, in front of his parents' portraits. Every single one looked more disappointed in him than the other- he knew that wasn’t possible, they were paintings… but a part of him also remembers those portraits being- happier.

“Have you gone in her room yet?” Bruce shakes his head, his question waking him from his thoughts. Nobody did, not even Alfred, the guilt was eating everyone alive, he was sure Dick would cry or break something if he even looked at her door. “You should.” Jason insisted. “Call the others, you all are going to look into her room, into her life, and see what hell we all put her through.” The young man nudged the older man to get up when Cobblepot came closer, trying to put Bruce to more work. He wasn’t doing this to better them, Jason wanted the family to be broken. It was selfish, but being selfish is what made him your favorite rogue.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Debbie’s nightly question was asked again as she set her drink down.

“Well, instead of marrying a fish I ended up fighting a sea monster and then I finally moved into my dorm with William.” Mark said as he ate. “I have hella parental issues, and I think everyone should compliment my achievements more because I almost cried when this lady I ate lunch with said she was proud of how quickly I grew in my powers.”

“You almost cried?” Debbie asked, worry on her face at the revelation. Maybe they should have put you in therapy the first time you came clean with Bruce’s neglect. Mark, however, was more fixated on the unnamed lady, knowing you were mostly joking. “…You went on a date?” You sigh. “No. Stop doing that overprotective older brother BS, you look like a mangy Chihuahua acting like that.” He just pouted.

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#dc x invincible #dc crossover #invincible crossover #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere invincible #neglected reader #yandere batfamily #fem!reader #female!reader

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zaldritzosrose · 2 days ago

Text

Show Me Your Darkness (Sauron x Jewel Smith!Reader)

Summary: Keeping the mask of the Lord of Gifts in tact was more of a task than he had expected. Especially around you. His surprise beloved, one he may value even more than his rings or power. And you loved to test him. Push his affection to its limits. So what happens when he lets you finally get under his skin?

This is a present for my dearest @kaelatargaryen, hope you enjoy!

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, elven reader, no specific descriptions of reader, hints of cnc, mental manipulation (it is Sauron), predaror/prey dynamic, primal play, p in v sex, fingering, innuendo, profanity, Sauron being a little gentle and sweet (who knew).

Words: 4877

Eregion was your home, and it had been for most of your adult life. Your interest in the intricacies of jewel-craft were what brought you to its capital, Ost-in-Edhil. But it was your talent that had made you stay.

The forge was the pride and joy of the city, the heart of everything it was. And you had spent the longest time honing your craft under its master, Celebrimbor. Working at his side, day in day out, to craft all the jewels he needed for whatever creation is mind brought to the world.

Celebrimbor valued you so much, he had even tasked you with perfecting the stones he had eventually placed into the three Elven rings.

So, it was no surprise that you had been one of the first to meet Annatar.

The Lord of Gifts had been a surprise to say the least, but to have another to learn from? You weren’t going to pass on such an opportunity.

Months under the tutelage of Annatar had meant you were rarely not in his presence. His intense stare as you worked, which had once perturbed you, now made you confident.

Not that you needed any mentoring, but it was an easy enough excuse to remain at his side.

But he watched you as if you were the most fascinating person in the room and it was almost impossible not to preen under that gaze. Though it never stopped you from getting in few jabs about how often he would stare.

“Surely you know how to do this already, my Lord?” you asked, as you finished polishing another gemstone for Celebrimbor’s rings.

Annatar gave you a look you had become quite used to. Not frustrated, but almost like he was hiding a laugh whilst trying to remain unimpressed.

“I do, but seeing someone as talented as you work is quite fascinating.”

You went back to the gem, checking it under the light before placing it in a small box along with the others.

Having someone watch you made you work harder on normal days, having someone like Annatar watch you made you strive for perfection.

You didn’t quite know when your relationship with Annatar had become something else, but it had.

He would stand impossibly close as you worked, his chest almost against your back. Sometimes you swore he would whisper in your ear on purpose.

As for you, it had become your turn to stare. Not realising it, but it had soon become impossible to tear your eyes from him as he worked at the forge.

The way the flames would illuminate the golden tone of his hair. And just how good he looked as he moulded the metal to his design.

The foundations of your relationship, however, hadn’t changed. Annatar still found you fascinating and you still welcomed his tutelage.

But now you spent more time at his side away from the forge. From his chambers to yours and most places in between. You saw a side of him most did not.

And because of this, you rarely understood why so many other smiths would look at him with something akin to fear. Like it was rude to so much as look at him for more than a second.

You understood that he was a messenger of the Valar and that was a status of reverence, but that was all you saw. To you, he was now a teacher, a friend and a lover.

Even his outbursts of frustration in the forge barely phased you. Where another smith would jump and hurry to fix whatever the issue was, you rarely did.

If anything, you would tease him more for it.

Today was yet another day of frustration for Annatar. The rings were not progressing quite as he hoped. The Mithril was a sensitive ore, needing the right amount of heat and pressure before it would mould as needed.

He tried to remain composed, to temper the fire within that threatened to burn hotter than the forge he was now staring into.

You watched from your workstation, settled on a balcony above the forge. Watched how his hands clenched and unclenched on the hammer in his hands. How the muscle in his jaw twitched as he tried to hold back his anger.

It was almost too tempting. The urge to tease and taunt him grew the longer you watched.

You knew it wasn’t just the Mithril that had Annatar on edge.

He was entirely obsessed with the rings, something you had never tried to delve further into. It was something you knew was his, and his alone. But it was his pursuit of perfection that was the true source of his ire.

In the evenings, when he would finally lay in bed next to you, he would allow himself to rant. About how the other smiths couldn’t seem to understand what it was he wanted, or how important it was that these rings were perfect.

And you would listen. Knowing your usual teasing wasn’t what he needed right then. But watching him now, you realised just how ridiculous it all seemed.

Descending the winding stairs, you soon arrived at his side with a smile.

“Your jaw will set like that if you do not relax, my lord,” you tapped the sharp edge of said jaw, and you were sure you could see it twitch further.

Most of the other smiths seemed to have made quick exit, though some still lingered in the periphery. Any that did remain, seemed to be watching Annatar with a wary gaze.

“I have no time for your teasing today,” Annatar snapped back, not taking his eyes away from the molten metal before him.

But you were not yet in a mood to let it go. The other smiths now watched in curiosity. Aside from Celebrimbor, you were the only one that never seemed phased by Annatar’s quick change in mood.

“You have scared the rest the smiths away with your sulking, how are you going to get anything made now?” you continued, tilting your head to force his gaze on you.

You could see the way his eyes flashed at your words, but he still didn’t look at you.

Was it worth the risk to push him? Absolutely.

Your hand reached for his arm, putting just a little force on it to turn him to you. Annatar wasn’t one for excessive physical contact, especially in public, so this was yet another way to prod at him.

To your surprise, he turned and finally looked at you. But he didn’t soften as he usually did. It was one thing for you to taunt him in private, tease him for his fiery outbursts. It was another for you to do so with an audience.

You met his gaze, holding it for as long as you could. His stare was piercing, like he was reading your very soul. And the anger that simmered behind it was palpable. But you were in too deep now.

“Staring at me will get you nowhere, Annatar.”

That got him. You could see it in the tight set of his mouth. And when his hand darted out and grasped your arm, you knew you truly had pushed his limit.

“Do not test me,” he hissed, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

That tone would usually cause any other in his presence to wither and run. But you knew him deeper than frustration and anger.

“You cannot scare me like the others,” you replied, though your heart began to beat just a little faster than before.

“I dare say I am not afraid of you at all.”

His hand tightened on your arm for just a second. You could see the waves of emotions behind his eyes. Surprise, frustration, calm.

The mask returned, his hand loosening and freeing your arm.

But you knew you had crossed a line when he leaned in and whispered into your ear.

“Then I shall show you how fearsome I can be, my dearest.”

Those words lingered in your mind for the rest of the day. The veiled threat had sent a shiver down your spine.

Annatar had never made you truly fear him, you knew deep down he wouldn’t cause you any harm. But there was a curiosity now. How was he going to show you?

You half expected a knock on your chamber does that evening, but it never came.

A few hours passed and you simply waited. But still nothing. The sky was entirely dark outside, and you could no longer hear movement from the forge in the distance, meaning most of the others had likely gone to their own beds.

Elves like yourself didn’t often need rest, but working in the forge hour after hour to craft the rings with your fellow smiths had begun to bring forth exhaustion more often than usual.

So, it wasn’t long before you turned to your own bed yourself. Sleep found you quickly enough and your mind soon slipped into your dreams.

Annatar also let your words linger in his mind. He was aware you didn’t fear him as others did, he didn’t want you to.

You were his love, one of few he held true affection for. You should not have cause to fear him. But to have you so openly mock how others feared him. That he couldn’t stand for.

He heard the city around him quieten down and he allowed himself to seek out your mind. This wasn’t something he did often, he cared for you enough to want to show you respect.

But he also wanted to prove a point.

To not make others question his authority, to not make him appear soft. Because all of that was saved only for you.

He relaxed into his chair, letting the silence of the city wash over him. Letting the tendrils of his mind reaching out to seek out yours. It wasn’t long until he found you, your mind as familiar to him as the rest of you now.

To his luck, you were dreaming. Your mind entirely relaxed and primed for the taking. He let himself linger silently for a moment, waiting for the right doorway in. And Annatar thankfully didn’t have to wait long.

Your dream was a gentle one. Just you, alone and walking in the lush forests that surrounded the capital. They were one of your favourite places, aside from the small lakes pocketed throughout Eregion. You found peace there, so it made sense you would seek them out in your dreams.

Annatar let his dream self follow you, a silent shadow that you weren’t yet aware of. He couldn’t reveal himself too soon, where would be the fun in that.

You wandered at the forests edge now, hands running over the leaves and flowers. Soon, he thought himself.

He let you feel his presence, just a little. Like a whisper in your ear or a breeze on your neck. He could see you turn, as though searching for something that wasn’t there.

Now was his chance.

He whispered your name, letting the words weave into your dream. Your head whipped from side to side, frantically searching for the source of the invasion. Now he just needed you to listen and obey.

“Come to me…” he whispered, his voice swirling around you now as his hold on your dream became stronger.

“Come to me…you need to remember I am to be feared…”

You jolted awake. Cold sweat on your brow and goosebumps on your arms and neck. He had warned you, you supposed. A warning you were now taking very seriously.

His presence in your mind still lingered, tugging you to follow it to wherever it lead you. You had known, as a messenger of the Valar, that Annatar had abilities you could rarely comprehend. But he made a point to not often use them on you.

But he did seem to have a point to prove.

You slipped a robe over your nightgown and chose some light boots over slippers. The image of the forest edge still swirled in your mind’s eye, and you could only guess that was where he intended for you to go.

The city was quiet as you crossed the gate threshold, a little too quiet. It had to be Annatar’s doing. All part of the plan, you imagined.

The journey to the forest was thankfully fast, but the nervous flutters in your stomach began to mount the closer you came. And as soon as you began to see the trees, you immediately felt his presence.

Yet no matter where you looked, you couldn’t see him.

Annatar could see your figure just ahead of where he hid. The soft palette of your nightgown and robe standing out against the night’s sky.

He remained shadowed by the forest, but he let himself return to your mind. His voice a little firmer than it had been in your dream. He had no plans to entirely reveal his truth to you yet. He didn’t quite know how the revelation of his true identity would go, and he hoped he wouldn’t truly scare you off.

As if defying his own assumptions of himself, he was quite fond of you.

Annatar could see you searching for him and he smiled when he saw the disappointed drop in your expression when you failed.

He took that moment to let his voice return to your mind.

“I am here, my darling, but this is not to be a sweet endeavour…”

His voice made you stop in your tracks, instinctively returning to searching the forest line for him.

“This is going to be a little game,” his spectral voice whispered, beginning to pace in the shadows as you began to walk down closer.

“You will try to escape me, and it will be an easy task if you find me so unthreatening.”

He saw the way your brows furrowed at his teasing, but he could feel the obedience in your mind. You continued to walk into the forest, as if knowing exactly what he wanted you to do.

Your eyes still darting side to side to seek him out, but to no avail. You could feel his familiar presence, and something in the back of your mind was telling you to run.

But when you didn’t move, Annatar decided you needed a little push.

“Run, my dear. Run as fast as you can…”

Those words echoing in your mind sent a thrill up your spine. Maybe you should fear him, the forests weren’t exactly a place for romance. But there was something exciting about the whole thing…

So you started to run.

Annatar gave you a head start, watching your figure disappear deeper into the darkness of the forest. He kept his hold on your mind, following the path you took.

This was going to be a chase on his terms. While he had every intention to chase you down the ‘natural’ way, he was going to give himself a little advantage.

He walked through the trees, following the path he had seen in your mind. You were far enough ahead that he couldn’t see you, but he could feel you.

Though as the trees thickened, he began to break into a run himself. Closing some of the distance between you both. Urging you down the path into the centre of the forest.

Neither of you knew how long you had been running and Annatar had been chasing. But the night had truly fallen over Eregion now, the only light was the occasional stream of the moonlight between the trees.

Annatar had been a silent presence in your mind for the most part. Reminding you that he was always behind you, that you had yet to escape him.

Was there a little fear in you now? Yes, but not that he would harm you. It was a nervous, excited fear, for the anticipation of what he would do if he caught you.

“Run faster, sweet girl…”

The sudden voice almost made you jump. He had been silent in your mind for long enough that you nearly stumbled over a root when he spoke.

You gripped your dress in your hands and willed your legs to move faster. Though a small part of you wanted to get caught.

Annatar could feel the little flickers of nervous excitement. The way your instincts seemed to be on edge whenever you heard a sound that could or couldn’t be him gaining on you.

The centre of the forest was close, and he began to veer your mind to follow the path to it. No one really knew where the small clearing had come from, but it was ideal for his endgame.

And when he saw you slow down as the trees began to thin, he couldn’t hide his smirk as he returned to hiding in shadows.

The confusion was clear on your expression and when he didn’t show himself, Annatar could see the emotion devolve into something akin to fear. You began to turn in slow circles, searching the treeline for him again.

“Annatar?” you called out, and he could now hear the worry colouring your tone.

He waited, just a little longer. Until the nervousness began to morph slowly into fearfulness. Annatar could hear the thoughts in your mind.

Had he even chased you? Was this your punishment for embarrassing him in the forge?

All those thoughts began to whir in your mind until he could feel you sinking into panic. That was his moment.

“I am here, my dear…and it seems you are caught?”

Your mind was so lost to worry that you weren’t even considering that you could have just run on through the clearing and away. Your eyes flitted to where you thought his voice was coming from, peering out into the darkness for any sign of him.

Annatar edged closer to the light, letting his soft grey robes shift into something a little darker. Something more…him.

As your back turned to him, he walked forward. Taking advantage of your state of unawareness and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Now you are most certainly caught.”

You stilled in his arms, the sudden presence behind you putting you back on edge.

Something about him felt different. Darker, sinister. And you found yourself curious.

When you remained silent, Annatar spoke again.

“I can feel your fear, right here,” he whispered, tapping your temple.

You could hear his smirk, and you shivered as his cheek pressed against yours.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you answered, and Annatar found himself surprised that was what you chose to say.

His lips ghosted against your cheek.

“I do not want you to fear harm, darling. But I want you to understand something…”

Only now did he move to stand in front of you. And he watched as you took in his appearance, noting the quick smile that pulled at your lips.

“Understand what? Do you wish me to fear you as the other smiths do?” you asked, trying to take a step closer.

But Annatar held his hand up to you, stopping you still.

“I want you to know the truth, about me.”

He knew he would need to reveal himself sooner or later. He could only hope you wouldn’t actually run in fear from him.

You nodded your head for him to continue.

“I am no messenger of the Valar, and I wager the fear the other smiths comes from some instinctual feeling.”

You frowned. “So you lied to me?”

Annatar sighed. Closing the distance and tilting your head up to look at him.

“For your own safety, nothing more,” he answered, which only added to your confusion.

Annatar ran his thumb over your lower lip, letting his presence in your mind return. Letting images of his true self flick through. Showing was easier than telling.

Morgoth’s crown. The darkened fortress of Angband and his master. All the death and destruction that forever followed him. He could feel the recognition in your mind.

“Sauron…you are he?”

He nodded, preparing to have to stop you from leaving. But he didn’t feel fear in your mind. There was nervousness, yes, but not fear. Not of him anyway.

“Do you fear me now?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

He could hear the thump of your heartbeat. The nervous excitement returning. And he felt the soft exhale of a laugh from your lips.

“Do you wish me to, my Lord Sauron?”

What a dangerous game you continued to play, even now daring to taunt him. But instead of annoyance, he found himself enjoying it.

The hand on your chin slid down to your throat, his free hand returning to your waist as he span you back around. His chest pressed hard against your back.

His lips were against your cheek as he spoke.

“Oh, you play dangerously now, darling,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear.

The hand on your waist began to roam, across your stomach and up to nestle just under your chest.

The low rumble of his voice combined with the heat of his hand had arousal settling deep in your belly. The lingered threat in his tone should have scared you, but it only excited you more.

“All across Middle Earth, the name Sauron is said in hushed tones. I am shadow and despair, yet you seek to mock my very nature?”

Your head leaned back against his body, the hand on your throat tightening just enough to hold you still against him. The other beginning to palm at your breast through the thin fabrics of your gown and robe.

His lips taking the lobe of your ear between them, tugging at it just enough to pull a sigh from your throat.

“You should be trembling in fear at my very presence, instead you are dripping with need, like a wanton little whore…”

The hand on your breast moved down painfully slowly, gripping your gown and robe to bunch it in his grip. The hand on your throat released you, only to move to cup your throbbing heat.

“Does the thought of being claimed by the Dark Lord himself make you desperate, my dear?”

You could barely form enough of a coherent sentence to answer him, but you tried. You wanted him, more than you feared you had ever desired anyone. Even when he masqueraded as Annatar, there had always been a deep-seated darkness within him when he would take you to bed.

And you wanted to see more of that darkness up close.

“Yes…” you sighed you, your body arching to chase the hand between your thighs.

Sauron chuckled against your skin; his lips now pressed against the column of your neck.

“Yes, what?” he growled out, teeth scraping against your pulse.

A rush of need went down your spine, flooding your veins as the combination of his words and touch had your mind in overdrive.

“Yes…my lord…”

The hand between your thighs finally began to offer you some relief. Long fingers shifting to slip beneath your undergarments. The pads of the digits beginning to circle your pearl just fast enough to pull your already prolonged release closer.

“Good girl,” he smiled, kissing your shoulder softly, “Now, I caught you and I wish to claim my prize.”

He held you gently as he brought you down to lie on the ground. But the new position gave you a chance to properly look at him again. To finally take in the subtle changes between Annatar and Sauron.

The black suited him more than grey, you thought to yourself. Your thoughts were cut short when he knelt between your legs, pushing them wider apart as he now hovered over you.

Your hand came up to tug him down, curling around the back of his neck. Sauron complied with a smirk, letting you bring his lips down to yours as he hooked one of your legs around his waist.

There was no real need for words now, the hunger behind his eyes was clear and you imagined it was reflected in your own. You broke the kiss to tug your robe from your shoulders, the cool air making you shiver as it hit your skin.

Sauron’s hand returned to its home between your thighs, slipping between your bodies to rub soft circles against your pearl.

Your head fell back in pleasure and Sauron took that opportunity to latch himself back on to your throat. Claiming every inch of skin as he continued his path down to your chest.

His fingers soon slipped inside, your hand gripping at his shoulder as soft moans fell from your lips. His rhythm was quick, your walls already clenching around his fingers.

Your back arched as your release finally broke, his name falling from your lips over and over again.

Now it was Sauron’s turn to give in to desperation. Your acceptance of his truth, the sound of his name dripping in pleasure on your tongue. Arousal pulsed in veins, his length twitching insistently against the fabric of his clothes.

Your own hands began to tug at his robe, silently demanding to feel more of him. The leg around his waist circling tighter to just feel any part of him pressed against you.

Sauron made quick work of pulling his robe from his body, leaving only the soft shirt and breeches beneath. The laces near torn apart in the hurried need to finally feel your flesh around him.

You pulled your own nightgown higher, Sauron’s hands moving to tear the light fabric of your undergarments at the seams.

He slipped inside with a groan, burying his face into your neck as your gripped at his back.

“Claim your prize, my lord…”

Sauron’s rhythm was punishing, a mixture of desperation and lingering frustration spurring him forward. His lips returned to the skin of your neck, hot kisses and nips of his teeth marking you as his own.

If you didn’t fear him, he could live with that. But he needed the world to know you were his and his alone. He needed to hear how desperately you needed him.

He held your leg tight at his hip, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. The muscles of your cunt were already clenching around him, need burning in every vein of your body and pulling him deeper into your core.

Despite the persistent need to claim you that gnawed at him, Sauron wanted to make this last. Have you as desperate for him as he now was for you.

He thrust deep, slowing his rhythm but deepening the power of his movements. His hips rocked against yours and he relished the way your back arched every time he hit that spot deep down inside you.

Now…you just needed to beg.

“You are mine, my darling, you may not fear me, but I can feel how much you need me…” he growled against your throat, his hand planted beside your head.

His words pulled an impatient moan from your throat. You weren’t the begging type, but you were so very desperate for release.

“Go on…tell me how much you need your Lord…”

You groaned in mild frustration, knowing you would have no choice but to give in.

Sauron chose that moment to give you a particularly hard thrust, your groan morphing into a long moan.

“Please…please, Sauron…I need you…” your hands clawed at his back as if to prove your point.

He moved a little faster, so you kept going.

“I need to feel you; I want you to claim your prize…”

His lips latched on to yours before you could finish speaking. Sauron picked up the rhythm again, working his way up until he was slamming his cock in and out of you in pure primal need.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as your peak washed over you, his name falling in broken cries from your lips.

His own release followed soon after, his rough growl of your name muffled by the curve of your throat. His rhythm stuttered as he finally emptied himself inside you.

“Mine…all mine…” Sauron whispered those words against your skin as he finally stilled.

He rolled to lie at your side, making it easy to forget you were both in fact out in a forest clearing.

You turned to rest a hand on his chest, holding yourself up as you looked down at him. You smiled as you felt the heavy thud of his heart beneath his chest.

“You never answered my question,” you said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

Sauron raised a brow in response, prompting you to explain. You smiled again.

“Do you wish me to fear you, my lord Sauron?” you asked, exactly as you had earlier.

His hand came to rest over yours, returning your smile.

“I believe I do not, my dear,” he answered, pulling you down to kiss you again.

Despite everything, he realised you were the only one he wished not to have fear him.

But maybe he should fear you?

For you were the one who had managed to capture the Dark Lord’s blackened heart.

TRoP Taglist:

@tumblin-theworldaway @kaelatargaryen @valar-did-me-wrong

@stardustcasey @itwillbeourswansong @xximmortalkissxx

@varda-starqueen @iwanderbecauseimlost

@eowyn7023 @whenimaunicorn

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#annatar rings of power #sauron rings of power #annatar x reader #sauron x reader #sauron smut #annatar smut #sauron x you #annatar x you #rings of power fanfiction #rings of power smut

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beomiracles · 2 days ago

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 05

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings references to sexual encounters, blood, mentions of injuries, drinking, red-flag reader (?), no warnings just vibes idk man leave me alone im going to cry.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. the last scene was so god awful hard for me to write for some unknown reason... oh well! I got it out, I'm alive, all is well :3

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 05 ] — Bloody Bodies recording legnth; 6.4k + PLAYLIST

⸝⸝

📼 — April 29th 2022

“So… What happens now?” Your hushed question feels loud when it passes your swollen lips. Gingerly pulling your panties back on, you cringe at the sticky feeling of the damp fabric against your skin. Beomgyu remains silent next to you as he leans back against the brick wall. For a moment, you wonder if your question had been a stupid one to ask.

It’s not until you move closer to him, your arm brushing against his that he tilts his head your way, one of his brows tugging upward. “Is something supposed to happen?” He echoes in an almost monotone voice. — Confused, you glance between him and the door only a few steps away. “Are you not going back inside?”

For the past ten minutes you had been trying to come up with an excuse, rather an explanation to deliver in front of Kayla once you walked back inside the club with Beomgyu. She would be mad, undoubtedly so and your mind raked with different scenarios and outcomes. What would you tell her? Would you even get the chance to introduce him, would he even want you to? Maybe he would just take off as soon as you stepped inside.

“No.”

His sigh is like a stone brick thrown right at you, hitting you across the face and leaving an ugly bruise. You blink, in complete disbelief as your gaze darts back toward him. But you had just spent ten whole minutes worrying about what to say. And he wasn’t even going back in? — “You’re not?” It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice and you’re almost certain he picked up on it.

Beomgyu shakes his head before letting it tilt back against the wall behind him. You knew that he was waiting for you to leave, and perhaps you should. Any other day you probably would have, but today it wasn’t enough. The sex only gave you a temporary fix, you needed more.

“Where are you going?” You straighten out your back, hands falling to your sides as they clenched into fists. You were determined to draw at least a half-assed answer out of him. Beomgyu doesn’t look at you when he replies, “Work.”

Ah right, work. It was an easy excuse, given that you knew little to nothing about what he did for a living, or anything else regarding him for that matter. That was bound to change.

“You work nights?”

He hadn’t expected that question, you could tell by the way his jaw subtly clenched, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. He nods, but his eyes are fixated on something far away, something you couldn’t see. “I do sometimes”, he hums.

Sometimes? He must work quite odd hours, for night shifts were usually on a tight and regular schedule. “Is it okay for you to drink before work?” You ask with a small frown, silently questioning his move to come here if he knew he had somewhere important to be shortly after. — But Beomgyu merely shrugs as he pushes himself off the cold wall. “I am my own boss, dollface.” His lips curl into the ghost of a smirk when he leans over to kiss your forehead.

And just like that, he was gone again, and you were left with what seemed even more questions than you’d started with.

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 22th 2024

“He was a freelancer… Of sorts..” You quietly state and Yeonjun glances up from the files in front of him. “Freelance?” He repeats and you nod as your gaze returns to the photos of the crime scene before you. Your finger drags across the image of the bloodstained cough, cringing as you imagine Beomgyu, covered from head to toe in blood as he lunges at the poor victim.

“Do you know what kind of freelance?” Your senior then wonders as he flips a page. You did. Though Beomgyu rarely, if ever, discussed work matters with you, you had still caught on to enough where you knew what kind of connections he held, what kind of person he was. — For some reason your lips betray you, “I don’t.”

You then hastily continue, “He was gone a lot, worked odd hours, came and went.” You shrug, trying your best to divert from the topic you had brought up yourself. You don’t know why you defended him, why you felt the need to take his side. You want to be honest with Yeonjun, hell you want to be honest with yourself. Why did he have to make it so hard?

Your last conversation a mere two days ago was still fresh in your mind. You wondered if his words actually held any weight. Was it true? Were you still loyal to him, after everything that had happened… Maybe you always will be. The thought was a scary one and you quickly pushed it away.

Choi Beomgyu was going to prison. He had no alibi, no witnesses, and all evidence pointed at him. All you lacked now was his confession, but that proved to be more than difficult.

“Why did you do it?”

Your question is left hanging in the open air, and your fingers curl around the pencil in your hand as you grip it tightly. The all too familiar metal table in front of you gleams under the bright lamp hanging above, the sterile lights reflecting off of its surface. — Beomgyu sighs, sounding tired as his gaze shifts from the wall behind you and over to meet your own. But when his eyes fall on you, they seem to regain their almost mischievous glint. “You’ve got to be a little more specific than that, dollface.”

Feeling your jaw clench as you fight to stay composed, your gaze flickers to the window on your left. As much as you wanted answers, you couldn’t risk anything with Yeonjun on the other side, listening intently to the conversation taking place. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you watch your reflection through the dark glass, you looked as scared as you felt.

Following your hesitant glance, Beomgyu smirks. It was like he fed on your uncertainty. Every step you faltered allowed him to take at least three forward. You swallow, and then your attention returns to him. “Why did you kill him?” — “Hm?” He attempts to run a hand through his hair, cringing slightly when he realizes that they’re both tied together by the metal cuffs around his wrists. With the small roll of his eyes he continues, “Thought I already told you, I was cleaning up a mes-”

“No.”

He pauses, cocking an eyebrow as he watches you with an impassive expression. You draw in a sharp breath. Never had you interrupted him before, never had you dared to. His brows pull together, his vision narrowing if only slightly. “No?” He huffs, the disbelief in his tone evident. — You shake your head softly, the movement small, so minimal that only he could pick up on it.

“Why did you kill him?”

Within the four confined walls the already thick air suddenly shifted. You recognized the smirk that tugged across his lips, the way his eyes glimmered with recognition. Beomgyu leans back, his hands clasped neatly together as his thumbs roll over one another. And even though it felt as if the two of you spoke completely different languages, where words were all but an endless game of cat and mouse.. — Sometimes… It was like he could understand you perfectly, as long as you gave him reason to.

His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his lip twitching and for a second it looked like he was holding back laughter. “Dollface”, he drawls, metal cuffs rattling against the metal table when he leans forward. “Why?” He echoes, “Is that what you’re dying to know?”

Yes. But you never say it out loud. You swallow, your grip on the pencil so tight that it might just snap in half. Beomgyu picks up on it, his eyes flitting down for a second before snapping back up to yours. — You knew that Beomgyu had killed people, you knew that he had blood on his hands. You have seen it yourself.

⸝⸝

📼 — May 11th 2022

The hotel room is dark. The expensive silk beneath you is cool to the touch and the large bed is cold, for it misses the warmth of another body next to your own. You try to swallow down the lump in your throat, but it won’t budge. It’s quiet, eerily so, and your stomach doesn’t tingle with butterflies as it usually would on a night like this. Instead it twists with dread.

You reach for your discarded phone, its bright light stings your eyes when you re-read his message. The address was correct, the room number too. But the time… 11:45 pm. Your heart drops when your gaze flickers toward the time indicator on your screen.

2:31 am.

He was nearly three hours late. But Beomgyu was never late, in fact, he was always there before you. Often you had wondered how he managed to get from one location to the next, how he never seemed out of place, no matter when and where you met. But tonight things are different. — Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to see you after all? Maybe something had come up…

Your attention fixates on the shut door. You imagine him walking through it, his dark hair falling across his even darker eyes, the everlasting smirk plastered on his lips. You imagine his voice, the nickname he had for you rolling off his tongue when his arms wrap around your waist. You imagine him kissing you, with a longing that perfectly matched your own.

But Beomgyu never comes.

You bite your lip, the idea of going home crossing your mind. It would be rather pathetic to wait here all alone, no? But then he would have spent money on a room left unused. Perhaps you should stay the night.. You could order room service in the morning before leaving.

The bed frame rattles under your weight when your back reaches the mattress with a thud. Exhausted and anxious, you let your eyes fall shut as you beg for sleep to take you. Even if you worried that he would continue to haunt your nightmares. — Beomgyu always left you clueless, he kept you in the dark. But naive as you were, you thought you would one day get answers to all of your questions. If only you stayed long enough..

You don’t know how many hours had passed, perhaps it had been mere minutes. But it was still dark outside when the small click of the door lock startled you awake. Quickly shooting up from the bed, your back presses against the headboard as you grab onto a pillow, not that it would aid in any defense.

The thick darkness prevents you from making out who the person lingering within the shadows was. Your heart thumps against your ribcage and your free hand blindly searches for your phone, only to freeze in your tracks when his voice cuts through the silence. — “Fuck, are you still here?” Beomgyu’s short breath instantly makes you relax and you slump back against the bed.

Lowering the pillow from your chest, you swallow. “Sorry, should I have gone home?” You quietly wonder as you shift awkwardly on the mattress. In the everlasting darkness it was impossible to make out his expression, but you hear him heave a sigh. “No it’s fine, I… Fuck I’m sorry, dollface.”

He takes a couple of steps forward, finally emerging from the shadows and becoming engulfed in the pale light of the moon. You find your gaze lingering by his dark figure, regarding him like it was your last chance, you never knew if it was. — The cold metal of his rings send sparks down your spine when his fingers wrap around your chin. He tilts your face back, his other hand finding a place atop your head as he studies you with a small frown.

“I got held up at work”, he explains and your eyes widen. It was unusual of him to share as much as a word about his life outside of your encounters, even if it was just a simple apology for his tardiness.

You find yourself leaning into his touch. “It's alright”, you murmur, your eyes half lidded when you peer up at him, “You can always make it up to me.”

Beomgyu chuckles, his hands sliding down your sides as he guides you back onto the mattress. The kisses he places to the side of your neck and down your collarbone are warm and familiar. That very warmth seeps into the cold vines that have tightened around your chest, gradually loosening them up.

You don’t question where he had been or what had made him take so long, you knew that you would never receive an answer. Instead you clung onto this fragile moment of intimacy, for you never knew if it were to be your last.

Letting your hands trail along his still clothed chest, your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, tugging on it as you pull him closer. Just as you’re about to push the garment up above his torso, do you freeze. There was an undeniable wet patch on the soft cotton. But when your lips part in an unspoken question, Beomgyu’s sudden kiss to your open mouth makes you lose your sense of direction.

Allowing him to kiss you for a moment, your hands halt as your fingers nervously fiddle with his shirt. But when you find that the damp spot only grows, you can’t ignore it anymore. — “What’s that?” You half-hearted whisper against his lips, torn between satiating your burning curiosity and saving this sacred moment.

“Hm?” Beomgyu hums against you, his kisses becoming all the more persistent in an attempt to sway your curious mind elsewhere. He ignores it when your hands brace themselves on his chest, and it’s not until you speak that he finally pulls back an inch. “Beomgyu, there’s something on your shirt..”

With an outstretched arm you flick on the small light on the bedside table. Given a second to adjust to the warm glow, your eyes widen as soon as they fall on the dark crimson stain covering his grey shirt. — Was that… blood?

Immediately you jerk back, your gaze flitting down to your now stained fingers. It was fresh. “Oh my god”, is all you can muster and before he has the chance to object your hands are insistently bunching his shirt up above his chest. — “Dollface”, Beomgyu tries, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrists but you merely shrug him off, all too focused on the blood smeared across his skin.

“What happened- Are you hurt? Why didn’t you say something?” The words all come bubbling to the surface, passing your lips without crossing your mind twice. It’s not until your trembling fingers swipe across his very much untainted chest that a brief silence falls over the two of you. He doesn’t wince or draw back at your finger’s probing, because he wasn’t hurt in the first place.

Beomgyu sighs, his hands brushing along your forearms. “It’s not mine”, he says, his voice is low, calm, as if trying to reassure you that everything was fine when it quite clearly wasn’t. How could he say something like that so casually? And what did he mean by not his? Who else if not him…

You swallow, the sound near deafening in the otherwise quiet room. All previous desire and longing has now washed off, the heat of his kisses and his touch no longer linger. You felt cold, left with an uncanny feeling in the deepest pits of your stomach. — You refuse to look him in the eyes, “What happened?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Was he thinking of an excuse? Was he conjuring yet another lie? Maybe he was debating on telling the truth for once. His thumbs rub soothing circles across your wrists, the small action however, had an opposite effect. You couldn’t tear your gaze from the blood, there was so much of it.

“Told you I got held up at work didn’t I?” He finally says, pulling you close in order to press a kiss to your forehead. His words didn’t matter, they couldn’t erase the uneasiness that had begun to build inside of you. Instead you draw in a deep breath, shifting on the bed as you lean back to peer up at him. “What exactly do you do for work?”

Beomgyu lets go of your wrists as he bites the inside of his cheek. He runs a hand through his dark hair and you intently follow the action. Whilst studying him under the faint glow of the bedside lamp, you notice just how rough he was looking, and that didn’t have to do with the blood tainting his chest. His hair was disheveled, his eyes sunken in, his skin was pale and there was a small cut on his upper lip.

He looked exhausted.

“It’s a business”, he begins in a low tone, drawing his words out as he talks slowly. His gaze flickers over the deep frown etched across your face and he presses the palm of his hand to your cheek. “I merely make sure that deals go through”, he says as his thumb slides between your furrowed brows, as if trying to ease your expression.

You shake your head, unconvinced by his vague response. “What kind of business ends in you looking like that?” There’s an underlying sense of accusation to your question and despite the subtle clench of his jaw, Beomgyu continues his soft caress to your face. “Our client hurt himself, pure accident. — Had to get him help, it took longer than I expected.”

He sends you a small smile, and you want to believe him, you really do. You want to believe that Beomgyu was just your average person, living an average life. But you knew that he wasn’t And you knew that he was lying to you right now. Beomgyu lied a lot. What you didn’t know was if his lies were good or bad intentions.

It scared you.

⸝⸝

📼 — May 11th 2022

You didn’t think Beomgyu was a murderer. No, that would be extreme. Yet you found yourself ignoring his messages. He’d sent two. Just like usual they had contained two separate addresses, two separate times. You’d officially stood him up twice. He told you that he was okay with it, that he didn’t mind, so you took his word for it. — On the fourth day you think he might stop, that he might grow tired of your persistent no-shows and move over to the next woman waiting on his call. But as you sit in class that very afternoon, your phone vibrates with the indication of yet another text. You felt your stomach twist.

Of course, you were right. The second your eyes fall on the short message you completely lose track of your surroundings. He was insistent, you’d give him that. But surely this would be the last time he’d ask for you. You had spent weeks, almost two months chasing after him. Suppose a small part of you thought of this as payback.

Perhaps that was what caused you to act without reasoning as you turned in your seat. A light tap to Taehyun’s shoulder makes his eyes divert from the board ahead and over to you. “Hm?” He asks as he taps his pencil against the pages of his notebook. You feel your lips tug into a smirk that’s familiar yet most uncharacteristic on you.

“Do you want to go clubbing tonight?”

Taehyun sputters at your words, his jaw slacking as he glances around like you’d just asked him to go down on you. “T-Tonight? Me and you? Clubbing?” He seems almost baffled at the proposal, even more so when you quickly nod. — “Sure why not?” You drawl as the smirk on your lips only grows. You trusted your classmate enough to share a drink or two with him. Besides, Taehyun was a good guy, there was no harm in getting to know him better was there?

He hesitates for a moment, gaze flitting between your professor by the front of the classroom and back to you. “But what about class tomorrow?” He wonders and you shake your head. “Class is canceled, didn’t you hear? Mrs Yang is ill.” — His mouth forms into a small ‘o’ shape as he hums.

“Sure I guess… Do you have a place in mind?”

“Are you sure you know where we are?” Taehyun sounds wary as he trails behind you, he’s like a skittish animal, ready to jump at the tiniest of sounds. He briefly stops to inspect an old street sign, only to jog after you like somewhat of a lost puppy. You, on the other hand, walk with long and determined strides, your feet carrying you through the narrow alleyway with a confidence you couldn’t quite recognize. — “Don’t worry, I’ve been here before.”

Sure enough, the familiar entrance soon floats into vision. The same cold purple hues dance across the dark brick walls, casting the street in an eerie glow. You don’t know why you had picked this place, why it had seemed like a good idea, but now there was no going back. — You swallow the lump in your throat as images of you, walking down this very path not long ago, flashes before your eyes.

You recognize the bouncer, the one who’d refused your entry last time. Part of your worries that he might do so again, this time you had no Beomgyu to rely on. The concept was both terrifying and freeing. This was the very first address he’d ever sent you, perhaps that was why the memory was still so vivid in your mind. Something about this place was different, special.

The sharp light of your phone screen illuminates your face as you check the message one final time. ‘Address, room number, 11:00 pm.’ You glance toward the clock on top of your screen, indicating a menacing 2:37 am. He would’ve left by now, surely pissed off with being stood up a third time, which means… Your gaze drifts toward the entrance mere feet away, the thumping rhythm of bass already drumming through your chest.

You wanted to see Beomgyu, that was the truth. You just didn’t want to see him. The chances of catching a glimpse of him were slim, but if there was anywhere you’d be able to find him, it would be here. Why? — Well because your gut told you so.

Taehyun grabs ahold of your arm when you make a move to approach the bouncer. “Why don’t we just go back?” He murmurs, the words coming out hushed. You shrug him off, shaking your head as you march toward the large man. This was it, you would give it your best shot. — Straightening your back, you push out your shoulders as far as they would go, your gaze narrowed when you glance up at him.

The bouncer peers down at you through his dark sunglasses, then he frowns, lifting a finger as he pushes them down on his nose. His eyes meet yours and there’s a flash of recognition. “Miss”, he drawls, a small grin splayed across his otherwise stern face. “How delightful of you to join us tonight.” — He steps aside, allowing you both inside, though not without sending Taehyun a harsh glare.

“Do you know him?” Your classmate asks as he stays close to you. — The smirk on your lips grows and you shrug, “Sort of.”

The interior of the place was just like you had remembered it. The large dancefloor, the purple lights, the booths shoved against the walls, not to mention the lack of a bar as drinks were being passed around by the many waiters. — Somewhere behind you Taehyun lets out a short breath, gawking as he takes in his surroundings. But your eyes were only in search of one thing, of one person. And when you don't find him, you pull your friend along as you scour the outskirts of the crowded floor.

Upon passing a waiter on bystand, you snag two glasses off of his plate, handing one of them to Taehyun. He seems skeptical as he peers down at his drink, “Do you even know what’s in these?” — You shake your head, “Nope.” That was the least of your concerns.

Your eyes fall on the grand staircase when you bring the cool glass to your lips. The steps looked much different tonight than they had back then. Tonight they felt untouchable. There was no way you would be getting up there… At least now without a little help.

“Where are you going?” Taehyun calls for you, and you hear him rushing after you as he pushes past the people in his way. You know that you should stop and give him at least a half-assed explanation, maybe even ask him to wait somewhere else. But your mind is entirely preoccupied with the sight before you. — “I’m serious, what are you-” He cuts himself off when he crashes into your shoulder, stumbling backward as he grips his drink tightly.

You’ve stopped in front of one of the many booths lining the walls, and Taehyun peers over your shoulder as he tries to make sense of the situation. The unfamiliar faces to him are ones you recognize with fright.

“No way”, a deep voice drawls, “Dollface, is that you?”

Duri leans forward, his hand, previously on the thigh of the girl next to him, withdrawing as he runs it through his short hair. You feel your stomach draw into knots at the persistent use of that nickname, the one that sounded so sickeningly wrong coming from his lips. — Duri chuckles as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“We seem to bump into one another quite a lot”, he muses, even though he knew that tonight had been no coincidence. You had come with clear intentions in mind, you were certain he could tell. — “Yes.” You send him a tight lipped smile, “So it seems.”

You could practically feel the confusion radiate off of Taehyun as he shifts awkwardly behind you, his eyes darting between Duri and the men surrounding him. You try not to pay his presence any mind as you focus your attention on the target before you.

“Say”, Duri leans forward as he grabs one of the drinks set aside on the table between you, “What can I do for you tonight?”

Your lips part, the grip on your glass tightening significantly as you throw a glance over your shoulder, your eyes automatically landing on the staircase. The steps seemed to shimmer under the purple lights. Duri hums behind you, snapping your attention right back to where it should have remained all along.

He brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip as he peers at you over the rim of his glass. “Pray tell, what business do you have there?” He wonders as he busies himself with another sip. You shake your head, your gaze unwavering as you say, “That’s none of your concern.”

Duri chuckles, the sound rough and raspy as it builds in his chest. His friends all join in, their laughter echoing off of the booth’s walls. You ignore them, patiently waiting them out as you twist the foot of your glass between your fingers. — After a long minute Duri finally nods, “He’s rubbing off on you.”

The comment makes your face burn and you resist the urge to avert your gaze. Painfully, you watch as he leans over to share a kiss with the woman next to him, parting for a moment to whisper something in her ear. Then he sits back, slamming his drink down on the table with a little too much force. “Fair”, he agrees as he rises to his feet.

Bewildered, you watch as he makes his way around the table, giving your shoulder a harsh pat before making his way toward the staircase. — “Come on”, you urge Taehyun as you hurriedly follow Duri’s tall frame through the ocean of people. Your classmate’s complaints are audible as he whines behind you. “Have you really thought this through?” He questions, his breath warm against the back of your neck, “I mean, look at the guy! We should not be following someone like him to-”

He’s cut short when Duri suddenly stops by the first step. “Ah”, he exhales as he turns on his heel, his piercing gaze falling on Taehyun. “Seems I have yet to introduce myself, pardon me.” — He extends a rough hand and you watch as Taehyun gingerly takes it in his. “Duri”, he says, the menacing smirk on his lips making your friend cower as he mumbles out a quiet, “Taehyun..”

It looked as though Duri was holding back laughter when he turned back to you. “Shall we?” He glances in the direction of the grand doors atop the stairs and you nod.

When you had first climbed these steps, with Beomgyu’s hand on your lower back, the world had been spinning. Each step had felt like one closer to the edge of a misty cliff, where the fog was so thick that it had been impossible to deem the trauma of the fall you might take. — Tonight it felt different. The cliff was no longer enveloped in mist, you saw things clearly now. You saw him clearly. That’s what you had told yourself.

Each step you take feels both empowering and deafening. The moment lasts forever yet it’s somehow over in a second. And before you know it, you’re faced with the grand doors leading into the VIP section. — Duri stops, his hand on the door handle as he sends the guards a small look of acknowledgement.

“I think you’ll be fine from here”, he states, the finalization in his tone evident. Wordlessly he pushes the large doors open, motioning for you to step inside. You do so without hesitation, not sparing Duri as much as a second glance when you pass him.

It’s quiet here, the air is lighter, cleaner. Just like you’d remembered it. Taehyun’s presence is hard to ignore as he clings to your side, the heat radiating off of him as his skittish eyes dart around the room. Almost all booths are occupied already, but you manage to find an empty one by the very edge.

“Did you know him?” Taehyun whispers when you sit back against the soft cushions. You nod, your gaze still roaming the open space as you absentmindedly bring your drink to your lips, “Sort of.” — Your classmate frowns, and you knew all too well from the look on his face that he was far from satisfied with your answer.

Your eyes jump from booth to booth, quickly skimming the people populating them as you fervently search for your target. But it’s not even been a full minute when Taehyun interrupts you again. — “Why are we here?” His voice is even quieter now, as if hesitant to even ask the question out loud. “Are you looking for someone?” He then adds when he notices your distant gaze.

You hum, shaking your head as you lean back against the velvety cushion. “No.” But that was a lie, your first of many. And just as the simple word leaves your lips do you finally find him. All the way across the room, shielded by the man standing before him, yet you could clearly make out his dark hair amongst the rest.

Suddenly your throat feels dry, and you gulp down another mouthful of your beverage. He’d come here after all. A small, naive part of you had hoped and wished that he would stay, that he would linger within the empty hotel room as he waited for your arrival. But it seems he’d moved quickly.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice the unfamiliar woman draped on his arm. The sight shouldn’t surprise you anymore, but your heart still skips a beat. She was your replacement. And though she was far from anything you represented, he’d still turned to her when you were a no-show rather than wallowing his sorrows alone at night. — You shouldn’t have expected anything less of him. He was Choi Beomgyu after all.

He hasn’t noticed you and appears preoccupied with whatever conversation he was currently indulged in. You wish he would notice you. You crave his eyes on you. You long for the way a simple glance from him could make you feel.

You’d stood him up a third time tonight, and it had made you feel in control. For once you were deciding, and not him. So why was it that you felt so utterly powerless at this very moment? Why was it that your eyes searched his when he couldn’t be bothered to even gaze your way?

You turn to Taehyun, he was watching you with a small frown. “You don’t like it here?” You ask, the tension falling from your face as you regard his awkward frame. Taehyun shrugs, his warm eyes flitting to the drink in his hand. “It’s alright”, he says, but you catch the hesitation in his voice.

He chokes on the liquor when your hand brushes along his thigh. “Don’t worry”, you hum as you settle against the booth wall, “We can leave again if you’d like.” Taehyun swallows as he glances between the smile on your lips and to your fingers splayed across his leg. An unfamiliar tint spreads across his cheek when he clears his throat and you find yourself enjoying the sight.

“It’s fine, really.” He assures you as he takes another small sip of his drink. Though he makes no attempt at shrugging you off. You could still sense his confusion, and you didn’t blame him. You were acting far too uncharacteristically even for your own liking. You had barely recognized yourself when you’d approached Duri. The sudden surge of confidence was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and the rush it had left behind still tingled in the depths of your stomach.

It was the length you were willing to go in order to see him, to see Beomgyu.

Your gaze drifts toward him on its own, and it’s not until his dark eyes fall on yours that you realize just how long and intently you’d been staring at him. He pauses mid sentence, his expression being struck with something you couldn’t quite decipher from this far away. Any other instance you would’ve probably looked away, hid behind nervous laughter or pretended like you hadn’t noticed him in the first place.

But tonight you don’t feel like yourself. — So you hold his gaze. You want him to see you, all of you. You want him to know that you were here, that you had come without him and that you weren’t planning on changing said fact.

Beomgyu shifts where he stands on the other side of the room. His fingers, that had previously been drawing small circles on the waist of the woman next to him, stopped. She’s talking to him, her lips move but you can’t make out what she’s saying, and you’re certain that he’s not listening either.

You can’t tell if he’s angry, you hope he is. Was it selfish? You wanted to pull any other emotion besides lust out of him. You wanted him to feel what you felt every single moment spent in his absence, was that so wrong? — You think you might have succeeded when his hand falls from her waist.

“I want to go home.”

The words escape before you can stop them and you lean forward to place your now empty glass on the table before you. Taehyun’s frown returns, and you feel him shift under your hand. “But we just got here? I thought you wanted to-” — “I changed my mind.” You firmly state, not tearing your gaze from Beomgyu as you watch his jaw clench.

You had gotten what you came here for. A small, but noticeable reaction, one that you’d created. Now all that remained was to safely evacuate before he had the chance to approach you. — With that you rise to your feet, blinking as blood rushes to your head. Taehyun is quick to follow as he gulps down the last of his drink.

“Hey, wait are you-” His protests are lost on you as you head for the door. Through the corner of your eye you catch Beomgyu’s dark figure moving, coming closer. You quicken your pace, desperate to get away from a situation you had caused yourself. And you were so close, the door handle almost within reach when suddenly, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

You freeze. Their grip is firm, unwavering and demanding as they tug you backward. This was it, this had been a mistake. One temporary rush of confidence had led you to believe that you were actually in control. And now you were about to pay the price for your foolish actions. With your heart in your throat, you turn.

It’s Taehyun.

His expression is tense and guarded. It seemed he finally reached his peak. The warmth in his eyes feels distant as he regards you with a narrowed gaze. “What’s going on with you?” He spits the words out, and though you can tell that he’s trying his hardest to appear stoic, you can see the concern swirling in his irises.

“You want one thing then the next, you’re making no sense and I…” You stop listening, his rambling becomes background noise when you catch Beomgyu not far behind him. Dark strands falling across his face, the rings on his fingers glimmering under the lights as he runs them through his hair. He’s stopped, and you wonder why.

Your gaze shifts between Taehyun’s worried expression and his motionless one. In that moment, you realize just how much power Beomgyu holds over you, the extreme lengths he makes you go to just to end up hurt in the end. — You didn’t want to feel like that anymore.

“Taehyun.” His endless rambling is cut short when his name leaves your lips. His eyes, despite the conflict buried within them, are nothing like Beomgyu’s. No, his eyes are gentle, even like this, even when they shouldn’t be. Even when you didn’t deserve it. Your gaze flickers over to Beomgyu one last time before they return to him.

“Can you kiss me?”

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lvrgurlblobbu · 3 days ago

Text

day well spent

college!zayne x fem reader

⤿CW: pure fluff

⤿word count: 3.6k

⤿a/n: hello lovelies! this is supposed to be a valentines treat but i got busy with college stuffs so it was kinda delayed. enjoy reading :))

⤿fifth part of code love series | previous part. > next.

ao3.

It’s been four weeks since Zayne officially began courting you. The day after that, he insisted on meeting your sister to ask for her approval as well. Although you assured him that it wasn’t necessary and that your sister would have no objections, he remained firm in his decision. He explained that his parents raised him to seek the permission of those closest to the person he’s courting, and he wanted to honor that tradition.

You also asked him if his parents knew that he was courting you. He smiled and admitted that he always mentioned you whenever he spoke with them. He explained that both of his parents are doctors, and their work often takes them out of the city—or even out of the country—for medical missions. Despite their busy schedules, they always make time to catch up, and you’ve become a frequent topic of conversation.

“Really? You talk about me often?” You asked him, you’re currently sitting at the lounge area of his department’s building as you decided to visit him before you go home.

Zayne’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I tell them how smart and funny you are… and how being around you makes my day better.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his sincerity.“What do they say about that?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the warmth rising to your cheeks.

He chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “They’re curious about you now. They want to meet the person who keeps making their son smile like an idiot during phone calls.”

You laughed, the image of Zayne grinning goofily while talking to his parents popping into your head. “Well, I hope I make a good impression when that day comes.

Zayne’s expression softened even more. “You already have,” he said quietly. “Even without meeting you, they’re glad I found someone who makes me happy.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the unspoken feelings hanging in the air. But the comfortable silence was enough. You realized that Zayne wasn’t just courting you; he was already including you in his world, and that meant more than words could express.

You glanced at the time and sighed. “I should get going,” you said, standing up reluctantly.

He stood up with you, his gaze lingering a bit longer before he spoke. “Let me walk you to the bus stop.”

“But what about your next class?” You asked him as he slung your bag on his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, and I want to make sure you’ll be safe.” He smiled, his eyes warm with reassurance. “Shall we?” He offered his hand, palm open and inviting.

You couldn’t help but smile back, a flutter of comfort settling in your chest. Without a word, you placed your hand above his, feeling the gentle strength in his grip. As you walked side by side, his hand naturally found its place on your lower back, guiding you with a subtle protectiveness that made you feel cherished.

The evening air was cool, a soft breeze rustling through the trees as the sky faded into shades of gold and pink. You could hear the distant hum of the city, but here, in this moment, everything felt quieter—almost like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

His thumb drew small, absentminded circles against your back, a gesture so subtle yet so grounding. You glanced up at him, catching the way his lips curved into a gentle smile, his gaze fixed forward but clearly aware of every step you took together.

It was as if his presence built a safe haven around you, a place where nothing could reach you but the warmth radiating from his touch. You leaned a little closer, your shoulders brushing, and for a second, you wondered if he could hear the rhythm of your heartbeat matching the steady pace of your footsteps.

Neither of you spoke, but in the comfortable silence, so much was said.

***

A few weeks later, today is Valentine’s day which is also your University’s Foundation Week. Classes were canceled for two weeks to celebrate and there were booths and stalls all over your campus grounds.

You and Zayne agreed to meet at campus, just by the old oak tree near the main entrance. The area was bustling with students, laughter, and music blending into the festive air. As you approached, you spotted him leaning against the tree, his hands tucked in his pockets, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as his eyes found yours.

“Hey,” he called out, pushing off the tree to meet you halfway. “You look… really nice.” His gaze lingered, a subtle warmth coloring his cheeks.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a shy smile creep onto your lips. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He laughed, the sound easy and genuine. “Shall we?” You nodded at him as you intertwined your fingers with his as he led the way inside your campus, guiding you through the crowd. His grip on your hand tightened as you entered, making sure that you won’t get lost.

As you passed by booths filled with games, merch, and food stalls, you noticed how his eyes sparkled upon seeing variety of sweets in the stalls. Zayne glanced at you and his smile is evident and it made your heart flutter.

“I heard their churros are the best, do you want to try?” He asked.

“Of course!” You replied, he smiled at you once again before leading the way. Luckily, the line isn’t as long as you anticipated when you reached the food stall which sells churros and a few other sweets.

You stood beside Zayne, he ordered churros which is good for two persons, two pieces of potato tornados and a milkshake. It hasn’t been long when your orders were now served, you and Zayne decided to sit at the bench underneath a tree to eat your foods.

With a potato tornado in your hand and churros in his, your drinks sat on the bench beside you. Zayne held out a wooden fork, eyeing the cinnamon-sugar-coated churros carefully. Using his hand as a fan, he made sure they were cooled off before taking a piece.

Once he was certain it was safe to eat, he held the churro out to you, his eyes warm with a playful smile. “Here, try it. It’s better when shared.”

You smiled at him before eating the churro, your eyes went wide as you chewed on it. “It tastes amazing,” you said and he chuckled in response before he took a bite of the churros.

“Here, try this as well,” you said, offering him the potato tornado. You used your other hand as a shield to catch any stray cheese powder, making sure it wouldn’t fall directly on his clothes.

Zayne leaned in, taking a bite with a delighted grin, “Mhm, that’s really good.” He said before he took another bite which made you chuckle because there were a few remnants of cheese powder on his cheeks.

“You look silly,” you giggled as you reached for your handkerchief to wipe the powder off his face. He just shook his head as he grabbed another churro and as if you acted on instinct, you leaned in to take the bite from him.

As you were busy munching, you suddenly heard a click. Confused, you glanced over at Zayne, only to find him grinning mischievously, his phone held up in front of him.

“Did you just… take a picture of me?” you asked, your eyes narrowing playfully.

He shrugged, completely unapologetic. “You just looked too cute not to.” He turned the screen to show you the candid shot—your cheeks puffed out as you chewed, eyes wide with surprise.

Your face heated up instantly. “Zayne! Delete that!”

He laughed, tucking his phone away before you could snatch it. “Nope. This one’s a keeper.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “If it makes you feel better, it’s now my favorite photo.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful annoyance melting into a shy smile. “You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled, but your tone was light, your chest fluttering at the way he looked at you.

“Maybe,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “But at least I made you smile.”

And just like that, you realized he was right. You were smiling—unable to stop, even if you tried.

***

After a few giggles and pictures snapped together, you and Zayne strolled once more. What caught your attention was the photobooth tucked in the corner, its vintage design adorned with flashing lights that seemed to beckon you both closer.

Zayne noticed your gaze and grinned, his playful energy impossible to resist. “Zayne.” You called, but as you looked at him, his gaze was already fixed on you. With a smile, you tugged him toward the photobooth, its neon lights reflecting in his eyes.

He let himself be pulled, laughing as you both stumbled inside the tiny space. It was a tight fit, your shoulders pressed together, knees bumping as you tried to get comfortable. The screen lit up, giving you barely any time before the first countdown began.

For your first shot, you and Zayne’s faces were near to each other. You held out two of your fingers poking your cheek as you pouted at the camera. Zayne on the other hand poked leaned closer as he poked his finger on his right cheek.

As soon as the second countdown began, Zayne wrapped his left arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. Both of you make a peace sign with visible smiles on your faces.

“Okay, quick! What should our next pose be?” you giggled as the last countdown began. You tilted your head to face him, only to find him looking down at you with a wide smile that made his dimples pop. You couldn’t help but lean in closer, your noses gently touching. Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed when the camera clicked, capturing the third shot.

The photo strip printed two copies with a mechanical whir, sliding out as you both tumbled out of the booth, laughing and breathless. Zayne grabbed the strip, his eyes widening as he saw the progression—silly faces, pure laughter, and finally, that close, almost-kiss that left your heart pounding.

“Let me take a look.” You said as you unconsciously intertwined your fingers with his as he gave you the other copy. “Oh, I love how these turned out.”

As you were busy admiring the photo, Zayne’s gaze remained on you. There was a softness in his eyes, his smile lingering as he watched the way your face lit up. The way you laughed at the silly faces, how your fingers gently traced over the last photo—the one where you were so close, your faces barely an inch apart.

He swallowed, his heart thudding as he replayed that moment in his head. It had felt so natural, so right, even if he hadn’t expected it. He opened his mouth, the words forming before he could stop them. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide in surprise. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “I mean… the way you’re smiling. It’s… nice.” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly shy. “Makes the photos look even better.”

You noticed his flushed reaction— how his cheeks and ears turned red, the way he nervously ran his hand through his hair and how he couldn’t even dare to look straight into your eyes.

“Zayne… are you blushing?” you teased, leaning in to get a better look. His eyes widened, and his cheeks grew even redder as he quickly averted his gaze.

“N-No, I’m not!” he protested, his voice higher than usual. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “It’s just… warm out here.”

You let out a small giggle, watching him squirm. “Right. Must be that blazing eighty-degree weather,” you teased, glancing up at the clear, breezy sky. You were about to tease him more, but then you heard two familiar voices calling out for the both of you.

As you turned your head, you saw Tara and Simone running towards your direction, their faces lit up with excitement. You smiled, waving as they skidded to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath.

“There you two are!” Tara exclaimed, hands on her hips as she caught her breath. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Simone’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked between you and Zayne, her gaze dropping to your intertwined fingers. A sly grin spread across her face. “Well, well, what did we miss?”

You felt your face heat up, and instinctively, you tried to pull your hand away, but Zayne held on firmly, his own cheeks tinged pink. “Nothing much,” he said, his tone casual despite the way his thumb was gently stroking the back of your hand. “Just taking some photos.”

Tara’s eyes widened, immediately zeroing in on the photo booth behind you. “Oh! Did you guys take one of those cute photo strips?”

You and Zayne both looked at each other before nodding gently. Tara groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! Show us!”

Zayne smirked, patting his pocket. “Sorry, but these are classified. For our eyes only.”

Simone looked at you, her expression pleading. “You’re really not going to share?”

You shook your head, laughing. “Nope. But trust me, they turned out great.”

Tara crossed her arms, pretending to pout. “Fine. But you owe us details later.” She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And I expect all the details.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act nonchalant even as your heart raced. “We’ll see about that.”

Simone linked her arm through yours, already steering you away. “Come on, then! We were just about to grab some snacks. You two lovebirds joining us or what?”

You glanced at Zayne, who still hadn’t let go of your hand. His smile was soft, his eyes warm as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice steady. “We’re coming.”

Together, the four of you walked off, laughter echoing as the teasing continued. And though the photo strip remained tucked away, the memory of that almost-kiss—and everything it meant—was impossible to hide.

***

As the sun had already set, the sky painted in shades of deep purple and navy, Zayne offered you a ride home. Of course, you didn’t refuse, the idea of spending a little more time with him too tempting to pass up.

The car ride was comfortable, the faint hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the radio. Streetlights cast a warm glow through the windows, illuminating his face in fleeting intervals. You couldn’t help but steal a glance now and then, admiring the way his jaw tightened as he focused on the road, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel.

“You know,” he began, breaking the silence, “today was… pretty great.” His voice was casual, but there was a tenderness there, a vulnerability you weren’t used to hearing from him.

You smiled, leaning back against the seat. “Yeah, it really was.“

The rest of the drive was filled with light conversation and laughter, the kind that felt easy and effortless. Before long, he was pulling up in front of your house, the porch light casting a warm glow across the yard.

Zayne put the car in park but didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softer now. “Hey… thanks for today. Really.”

You looked at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “No… thank you. I had an amazing time.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you charged with anticipation. Zayne’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his jaw tightening slightly as if he was debating something.

“Oh, before I forgot—“ He muttered as he unclasped his seatbelt to grab something from the backseat. To your surprise he’s already holding a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers wrapped in white paper and tied with a light blue ribbon. The bouquet features a delicate mix of white and pale blue blooms, including roses and small, airy flowers resembling baby’s breath.

“Zayne-“ your breath hitched as he gave the bouquet to you.

“I inserted something in there.” He said, then you noticed a piece of paper tucked underneath the flowers. You placed the bouquet in your lap as you began to unfold the paper.

Your heart began to race as you saw a beautiful sketch of yourself. The lines were delicate, capturing every detail with surprising accuracy—the curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, even the way your hair fell around your face. It was breathtaking, almost surreal, to see yourself through someone else’s eyes.

You looked up, your gaze locking with Zayne’s. He was watching you intently, his expression soft, almost vulnerable. “Do you… like it?” he asked, his voice hesitant, as if he was unsure of himself for once.

A lump formed in your throat, emotions swirling as you looked back at the sketch. “Zayne… this is incredible. I… I didn’t even know you could draw.”

He let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s just a hobby. I don’t show my drawings to many people.” His eyes softened as he continued, “But… I wanted you to see this one.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth flooding your chest as you realized the effort and thought he’d put into this. “You drew this… for me?”

He looked away, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah. I… couldn’t get you out of my head, so… this happened.” He glanced back at you, his gaze intense. “I wanted to capture the way you looked that day at the park…when you were laughing.”

Your breath caught, the memory flashing in your mind—the two of you strolling at the park, your face lit up with laughter, Zayne watching you with that same look in his eyes. “You… remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I remember everything about you.”

Emotion tightened your throat, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. You reached out, your fingers brushing over the paper delicately, as if afraid you’d smudge the beautiful lines. “I love it. I really do.”

His shoulders relaxed, relief washing over his face. “I’m glad.”

You looked at him, your heart full. “Thank you, Zayne. This… this means more to me than you know.”

His eyes softened, his voice a gentle whisper. “You mean more to me than you know.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing once more. But this time, it wasn’t because of the sketch—it was because of him. The both of you stared at each other for a few moments before you broke the silence.

“It’s already getting late, I’ll head inside so you can go home.” You said as you folded the paper and tucked it back underneath the flowers. “Thank you for today Zayne, for keeping me company during the University fair, and for these gifts. I had so much fun.”

“It is my pleasure and I could say that as well.” He smiled at you, “Thank you [Name].”

The both of you settled in a comfortable silence. You stared at his hazel-green eyes as you thought of something cheeky. So, you leaned your face closer and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Be safe, goodnight.”

You giggled at his expression when he was suddenly caught off guard by your sudden kiss. You immediately gathered your things before opening the car door and ran inside your house, not even bothering to steal another glance at Zayne because you could already feel your cheeks heating up.

As soon as you got inside, you immediately got a text notification from Zayne.

Zayne: That was sneaky

You giggled as you hovered your fingers to type a reply.

You: You should’ve seen your reaction lol. Drive safe okay? Message me once you got home :))

Then, it hasn’t been a minute passed when you received another reply.

Zayne: Yes I will. Thank you again for today <3

Your heart fluttered once more as you saw his reply. You placed your phone back in your bag as you went upstairs to take a shower.

Once finished, you slipped into comfortable pajamas and made your way to your room. Without another thought, you plopped onto your bed, sinking into the softness as you hugged your pillow close. A giddy laugh escaped your lips, muffled by the fabric, as the memories of the day played like a movie behind your closed eyes.

You turned your head, your gaze falling on the bouquet resting on your nightstand, its delicate petals catching the soft glow of your bedside lamp. Beneath them, the folded sketch was safely tucked away, a beautiful reminder of the man who had given it to you.

Your phone buzzed once more, and you grabbed it eagerly, heart skipping as his name appeared on the screen.

Zayne: Just got home. Sweet dreams :)

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you, your fingers dancing over the screen as you typed back:

You: Sweet dreams, Zayne. Today was the best.

You set your phone aside, still clutching the pillow as a contented sigh left your lips. Today really was perfect—better than you ever could’ve imagined. You hadn’t just spent the day at the University fair; you’d made memories, and shared laughter.

As your eyes grew heavy and sleep began to claim you, one thought lingered, wrapping itself around you like a comforting embrace:

Being with him just felt right.

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

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