#like its so hard to enjoy where i am and the things around me when i just feel a burning ball of terror in my chest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

86espresso · 3 months ago

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secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought ✯ jh86

sum: “I really like you.” *looks around* “are you sure-”

// jack x med student

warnings: 18+, oral (f & m receiving), mentions of familial neglect, cursing, kissing, stress, anxiety, doubt, pet tigers, jack thinking too hard, reader is insecure don’t know what for 💔, overuse of commas because im insane, happy ending, a lil too sappy (i say this with emphasis), i mean it there’s a whole lotta CHEESE, mostly fluff, very emotional and hearty pls im sorry im a lover. afab!reader w/ she/her pronouns :)

w/c; 7.6k

a/n: hey so yeah. wtf. the word count?? i had so much fun writing this. half scared that its boring. i love simp / munch jack. ps: as queen as y/n is, i gave reader a nickname, sorry. (a very … unique nickname. i myself am puzzled as to how my brain works) enjoy. or at least try to. under the cut !

THE library was unsurprisingly almost empty considering the fact that no sane person would want to step outside in this rainstorm, so you were content in studying organic chemistry in the very back, alone with your thoughts, your textbooks, folklore by Taylor Swift, and now a guy. Who decided that he will break the silence in the almost empty library.

You were in your world, as always, not really connecting or associating with things around you but the ruckus of the someone knocking over an umbrella stand and profusely apologizing to apparently no one made you lift your head up. You smile slightly before going back to your work, barely registering your surroundings.

Sure, Jack was entirely focused on his friends, studies, and hockey back in high school, but he was an expert at faces and names and could jot down absolutely anyone that he knows he’s seen before. He knew exactly who the girl with dark circles and way-too-oversized hoodie in the back was.

At least five minutes later, Jack started hovering near your spot, which was the romance aisle. You sneak a glance at him and take note of his athletic shorts and New York Giants hoodie and quickly denote that this man was definitely not the romance novel type (or maybe book type at all). After flipping mindlessly through another book he lets out a soft “fuck it” before turning to face you completely.

You can’t help but crack a smile at his jump when he saw that you had already been staring at him with wide, voidfull eyes.

A pause. You staring at him. Him staring at you. He cracks a dopey smile, blinding you with his paper white teeth, and pulls up a chair in front of you.

“What’s up, Dee?” He asks holding his hand up for a dap. Bewildered at how this complete stranger knows your nickname amongst close friends (from when you gracefully told people that ‘the bags under your eyes are Dior’), you dap him back anyway and blurt, “I have never seen you before.”

“You went to my high school. We worked in a project in like, AP World I think? I dunno. But I remember you saved my grade that whole year.”

Your mind remains blank. You saved a lot of people’s grades.

“My only high school memories are countless APs, pain, suffering, studying and depression.”

Most people would blanch at your dreamy straightforwardness, but Jack just grinned again.

“Yeah, I remember you were always tired but also really funny. And tired. Deja Vu, man, watching you sit here, laser focused on your books. I was on the hockey team, if that helps.”

I furrow my brows, thinking hard.

“I do remember that our hockey guys were really good. They would announce their names like every day on the speakers because they won all the time.”

Jack groans at the memory. He was well known but it was just uncomfortable having your last names called out where the whole school could hear.

You laugh at his reaction. “They would call the same names over and over. I don’t know if it was you who used to hide your face every time they did it but yeah.”

Jack perked up. “Yeah that was me.”

You take a moment to admire his boyish facial features and athletic build. He’s pretty.

‘Don’t even think about it’ pretty.

“Dang. You were like a superstar. Sorry I don’t remember much. I’m like, walking jet lag.”

He laughs a typical frat boy laugh (if that makes sense) and you like it. You want to hear it again.

“So, what are you doing out here? Never pegged you for a big city girl.”

“I go to college here.”

“Damn, we should’ve met sooner. My name is Jack, by the way.”

“My friends call me Dee, but I guess you knew that.”

You were left pondering as to why a hockey player from high school was even anticipating meeting you; people only approached you for notes and the occasional party invitation back then.

“So, uh- what about you? Make it big in the league thingy yet?”

He breaths a laugh. “You could say that.”

“Who do you play for?”

“New Jersey.”

“Prudential, isn’t it? That’s close by my apartment.” I say in thought.

Jack grins. “Really? We might bump into each other often, then.”

He looks genuinely excited.

Why.

What’s going on.

You chat for a few more minutes but it’s mostly you saying out of pocket things and Jack laughing instead of side-eyeing you and walking away. You were surprised at his effortless kindness.

“Phone.”

“Hm?”

“Or Snap? Whatever you feel like is best,” he says, pulling out his phone. It takes a second to register that he’s implying that you exchange contact information.

“Don’t really use Snapchat. I kinda have too much on my plate right now.” You hand over your phone.

“You always overwork yourself, you should be at the club. You’ll die on the inside.”

“Nothing I can’t handle, I hope.”

You just need to push through and never ever have fun.

He checks the time and sighs.

“I was just here to return a book but I gotta head back. Flight for a roadie takes off in a couple hours. I’ll be back in, like, four days? I hope to see you around then?”

You match his soft smile and nod, whatever roadie means but okay. It was actually nice, wasting some valuable study time for a potential friend. He’s cool.

“Yeah. See you.” You offer and huff a laugh as he reaches out to dap you up again.

That night, after yet another long and winding day with the only highlight being meeting someone who was apparently a high school acquaintance, you decide to look him up. Surprised at the absolute famethat this man had loaded, your lips parting at every detail, you click on his instagram and officially unhinge your jaw.

500k followers?

You’re never on insta but that can’t be good.

The shock of how you basically were bonding with someone who definitely downplayed how famous he was didn’t wear off a week later; he texted you quite often and you tried to text back without seeming dry.

It was nearly a week later when he offered to meet up again.

-> two questions

babies come from the baby store.

-> wtf

sorry. ask away !

-> 1. are you at the library rn

do you still like the caramel frappe from dunkin

yes. and yes. what the hell are you doing.

-> something nice. see u soon angel.

angel is wild when I look like I snuck on this earth but thanks for that anyways. you’re very kind :))

-> kind enough to tell you to that you’re really pretty :))

*reacted with heart emoji*

You check your forehead temperature to make sure you hadn’t just imagined the whole conversation.

It wasn’t long before Jack was strutting into the library with two dunkin’ shakes in his hands accompanied by his gorgeous smile when he spotted you in the back, once again.

“You’re wearing glasses today.” He says when you look up at his outstretched hand. You reach forward with a grateful smile, and deja vu hits you hard. The same exact scene playing out in high school when he had asked everyone in some group project their favorite drinks and treated them when they all got an A.

“I remember you,” you say as he flopped on the bean bag next to you with his own drink.

“Yeah? I knew you would. You’re too smart.” He says, again dazzling you with his perfect smile as he lifts two fingers to tap your temple softly to emphasize his point. It’s a challenge to tear your eyes away from his baby blues.

“Your eyes are so blue. It’s distracting.”

Jack’s eyes widen at your unintentional rebuttal at his subtle flirting, and he smirks. He knew that you weren’t aware that you were being flirted with the past week; what you lacked in emotional and social intelligence was shadowed by your sharpness in academics.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you were a really big deal around here? Everyone knows you and you have like a million followers.”

“Stalking me?”

“Educating myself.”

Jack laughs and throws as arm around you to peer over your shoulder.

“Well, I don’t just go around telling people how good I am. So, whatcha doing?”

The contact makes you freeze up and once again the surreality of a man wanting to spend time with you disorients you a little bit.

“Watching porn.”

Jack laughs again and earns a stern look from the clerk down the aisle.

“I’m studying anatomy.”

“Yeah, didn’t suspect any less than med school for your smartass.”

You turn to him to talk back but his face was inches away from you and that sets off alarm bells throughout your body. You’ve had your fair share of guys and girls but there was not a single string attached and the short flings were easy to forget.

But having someone that pretty, that close to you, not showing exactly what intentions he had? That caused your anxiety to spike. Positively.

“Your face is really close.” You simply state, pushing your large frames higher up your nose.

“And yours is really red.”

You immediately press your hands against your cheeks and groan at what you picture your face looks like. Jack just giggles again and pulls your hands away.

“It’s cute.”

His hands are still on your wrists.

“It really isn’t, but thank you. You’re very kind.”

There’s a beat of silence where you can see the gears in his head turning.

“Do you like aquariums?”

You surprise yourself and Jack when you pull him into a hug as a greeting outside the aquarium.

The feel of your chests touching with little fabric in between set Jack’s heart off racing and the way your curves dipped at your hips had him pulling at his collar.

But most of all, when he pulled back from the hug, he noticed you were wearing shorts that had your legs all out for him to ogle over.

“You hidin’ all that?” He scans your figure, noting the dark, low cut, full sleeve top.

“What? All this?” You say as you push your tits together. “There’s not much to hide.”

Jack’s throat runs dry. Unfortunately for him, he’s still a guy and tits still make him drool. And the fact that you had no idea you were keeping him on his toes

“Be for real.” He rolls his eyes. “How’d your day go?”

“Nice, actually. I just took Nala for a walk and-“ you cut yourself off.

“I didn’t know you had a pet? Can I see her? I love anim-“

“She’s a tiger.”

You give him more and more reasons everyday as to why him hanging out with you was unethical and strange but he seemed to keep on staying. Studying you as if intrigued by your strangeness.

“You- have a pet..tiger?”

Yeah. I’ve done it.

“I- yeah.”

It seems like all Jack ever does is grin because he’s doing it again and flinging an arm around your shoulder as he starts to walk with you.

“Oh, Dee. There’s just so much to learn and love about you.”

It takes you a second to react.

“That may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. Well, cause I was ugly growing up, and people always thought I was strange. It’s hard to imagine that people are genuinely interested in any sort of friendship with me.”

Jacks fingertips on your bare collarbone, his cologne and aftershave, his figure pressed against your side; all of it was overtaking your senses.

“Baby, why do you think I walked up to you that day in the first place? You may not remember much but I do. You were so kind and honest. And so intriguing. And hardworking. And pretty. I think your dark circles are hot.”

You huff out a laugh and ignore the flutter in your chest at ‘baby’.

Jack looks down at you with a gaze that he can’t pinpoint. You’re just very, very endearing to him. He needs to show you all kinds of fun so you laugh like that again.

“You smell nice.” You say and hesitate before loosening yourself against him more. He hums at the increased contact and at your compliment, smiling against your hair.

“Thank you.”

To say you had the absolute time of your life at the aquarium was an understatement. Jack got to see a side of you that loved fun, that was carefree, and didn’t have that goddamn crease in your eyebrows. You were the one pulling him around, telling him you wanted to be a marine biologist as a kid and that you recognize most of the species. Jack made sure to snap a few pictures of you when you weren’t looking, the lightning shaped twinkle in your eyes a memory he wanted to keep forever.

Later that day, Jack drove you back to your apartment, mentally noting that you were about a fifteen minute drive from his place.

“Nala?” You coo out softly as you push open the door and drag Jack inside, not giving him the chance to protest. Jack looks around at your apartment. It’s small and messy, but organized in some places. He jumps and lets out a brief scream when a fucking tiger is bounding towards you at full speed and knocking you over with a hug. You laugh as your beloved Nala starts licking up your face and you both roll on the floor.

Jack’s breathing calms a little as he remembers who owns the tiger.

“I’ll put her away for now.” You say, reading Jack’s skepticism. He sighed in relief.

“Oh good. Because as much as you reassured me and as man as I am, she’s still a tiger.” You giggle at his words and guide Nala towards her room.

The sound makes Jack smile stupidly. His heart stutters and he wants to put your little laugh on replay. He can’t believe that a girl who stated random medical facts at any time, who lost sleep because ‘she just forgot that it’s important’, who barely remembered him from a while ago even though he remembered everything, who waves at planes as they fly overhead, who didn’t know shit about the sport he played, had him wrapped tightly around her finger.

He takes a moment to observe your apartment. The stacks of medical related books that he doesn’t want to and never will understand, the old record player sitting in the corner of the kitchen, a huge jar of nutella on the coffee table, a questionable fluffy purple blanket on your sofa. Just little things that made you all the more real to him.

And he still wants to know more. He wants to know your sleep schedule so he knows that you’re getting enough sleep and when to text or call, he wants to know what you dream of, he wants to know your passions besides studying, he wants to know what made you become so numb and detached, how you still managed to have a twinkle in your eye when you experienced emotion.

But, as he leans to the counter for support at his racing mind and as you enter the room, still clad in your godforsaken low cut top and curve-hugging shorts, he most of all wants to know what you are like, what your lips would feel like molded against his, how you’d moan or whimper at his touch. He’s still leaning against the counter as he recalls when you unabashedly pushed your tits together just hours ago.

“You alright?” You ask, but you yourself seemed to have distressed eyebrow lines.

“Uh? Oh yeah. I was just.” He gestures around your apartment. “Observing.”

You nod, still lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” He asks, not liking the stress in your body language.

“Yeah. It’s just, I have two projects due next week and I’ve been studying for something else so I completely forgot about them.” You frown, feeling tears pool in your eyes. You can’t cry in front of Jack. If everything else didn’t make him abandon you, then this would.

“Woah. Hey, hey.” Jack is by your side immediately. He feels guilty for thinking of you sinfully while you were in distress but he really couldn’t help it. You blink back the tears and shrug it off.

“It gets kind of a lot sometimes, y’know?” Jack follows you to the couch and sits next to you, immediately taking your hands in his and pulling your legs onto his lap. You gave up on keeping your cool when he does that and give him a bewildered expression. Being taken care of is so strange.

“And? Go on, baby.” He smiles softly and encouragingly, dropping one of your hands to hold your chin for a moment before grabbing your hand again.

You blink.

“Well, It’s probably not as much as I’m stressing it out to be. I’m about to abuse substances.”

“Now don’t do that. There’s lots of ways to destress yourself.” Jack’s hand wanders again, resting on your bare knee. His movements are soft and gentle, but they still cause a foreign spark through your body. You dryly cough before registering his words and looking at Jack’s hand that had inched higher by the slightest.

“Is this flirting?” Rushed out of your mouth and Jack chuckles, a normal sound but an octave lower.

“Sure is, baby. You’re learning fast.” He’s staring your eyes down, and all of a sudden he’s consuming your senses again. His cologne is still there, his insane blues are glued to yours, his deep breathing is signifying his increasing heart rate. His hand inches higher as he moves closer.

“Why don’t I just,” shrug, “eat you out? ‘S a better high than drugs-” His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Jack huffs and pulls away, leaving your insides churning at the his lingering touch and words??? The implication alone, the images conjuring in your head were nothing short of filthy.

He scowls as he takes the call, muttering something about how it’s his agent and he’ll get in trouble if he doesn’t answer. His responses are curt and his expression neutral, but his hand is gripping your thigh with intensity. As he hangs up the call and tosses his phone aside, his hand is almost at your inner thigh and he maneuvers himself to be directly on his knees on the floor in front of you.

The sudden movement and his face looking up at yours between your slightly parted legs has your pussy throbbing. It’s been weeks since you were.. in this particular position with someone and god did it feel nice that it was the finest man in world to unpause your sex life.

He leans up to be face level with you. “Do you trust me, baby?” You never noticed how sultry his natural voice was.

His eyes search yours for any kind of discomfort as his hand reaches forward to cup your cheek. You nod in conformation as he moves closer.

Your breath hitches as he presses his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth. It confuses you slightly as to why he didn’t just kiss you but both of his hands on your waistband distracts you.

“Can I take these off?” He questions and you nod once again, not trusting your voice.

He’s doing everything in slow motion and you think it alludes to your sensitivity earlier, but anticipation and his hands cloud everything in your mind.

What kind of guy just? offers to eat you out? to help you destress?

Your shorts are discarded and the exposure doesn’t bother you. Sure your heart would be thudding either way, but Jack made you feel different. No anxiety in the sense that he would judge you or harm you or hurt your feelings.

“Hm, these are cute.” Jack’s thumb fingers over the lining of your underwear.

You feel yourself flush.

“Thanks.” Is your quiet response.

“Relax, baby. This is for you to unwind, not to get nervous. Focus on how you’re feeling,” Jack instructs as his finger ghosted over your clothed cunt. Your teeth nibble on your bottom lip as you push your hips closer to his hand.

He smirks at your eagerness and gives in, entirely pushing his thumb against your clit through your panties.

His thumb moves slowly but firmly back and forth as he gauges your reaction. Finding the right spots where your stomach clenches or your eyebrows knit together.

“More.” You muster as you open your eyes to look down at Jack who was already moving to take your damp panties off. Once again, slowly. He groans as he sees you glistening for him and starts kissing up your thigh.

“You have a pretty face.”

Jack grins up at your compliment while peppering feather light kisses on your inner thighs.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The anticipation pools in your lower stomach as Jack breaks eye contact with you to admire your delicacy in front of him. He uses the same thumb to rub through your folds and reach higher to circle your clit. The stimulation has you moaning softly and the sound has Jack’s cock twitching in his shorts.

“I- hurry.” You huff in slight annoyance, wanting more besides the slow circles. Jack smirks against your thigh and removes his thumb so he could move forward lick a stripe through your folds.

Your knuckles get white gripping the pillow, itching to hold his hair instead as his eyes flicker between yours and your pussy. Jack notices your hand on the pillow and guide it to his hair while sucking and licking your cunt. He parts away for a second to catch his breath before making slow and languid motions with his tongue on your clit.

You grip his hair, hard. Jack grunts against you and loses a shred of control as he pulls your legs apart further to dive further in. You let out a startled breath at the sudden movement and pull on his hair more as he shakes his head deeper while still staring up at you.

“Jack..” you breathe out, but it comes out as more of a whimper that makes him hum against you and a spark run through his body. He pulls away and inserts his middle and ring finger through your slick and pumps shortly before curling his fingers. You heave a breath and moan at the feeling while Jack stares up at you in awe.

“You’re everything.” He says more to himself than you, as he watches you writhe and whimper at his fingers while holding the eye contact. He connects his lips with your clit again and suctions in a way that has your back arching and your moans getting louder and more high pitched with each type of attention Jack gives to your pussy.

He switched his fingers and mouth and rubs your clit as he laps up your arousal as he feels you getting close. He takes that moment to switch back and locks eyes with you as his dark pink, wet lips attach to your clit again, softly sucking you closer to your tipping point.

“Oh, f-fuck I’m-“

Your eyebrows knit and your eyes roll back at the sensations of his mouth and tongue and fingers and gaze.

You spasm around his fingers and moan louder while Jack’s fingers guide you through your release. He licks up whatever he can before sitting and wiping his face with the back of his hand as you stare at him with hooded and tired eyes.

“Feel better?” He has the nerve to ask as he runs a wet wipe up and between your legs.

When did he even get that?

Your leg twitches in sensitivity after he’s finished.

“Mm better.” Was all you could muster. All you wanted was to sleep and dream for days.

Jack laughs softly at your state and checks the time.

“I’ll need to head out soon. Team dinner.” He says as he fits another pair of underwear on you. You feel a pang in your chest and anxiety creeps up your spine, but Jack immediately shuts your thoughts down.

“Hey, this doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you or anything. I’m goin’ cause I have to and I would take you but you look like you could use a nap. We can hang tomorrow?” He’s so soft and caring with you, cupping your cheek and smoothing his thumb over it.

“Yeah okay.” You say and watch as he gets up, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I won’t go anywhere, baby.”

After the team dinner, when Jack got home and shut the door to his apartment, the first thing he did was call his older brother. Quinn was just the slightest, itty-bittiest bit more fortunate with girls, so Jack naturally went to him for tips here and there.

A few minutes into the call, they exchanged formalities and talked about each others’ seasons before Quinn cut to the chase.

“So? Is it a girl?”

Jack blanched.

“I- well yes, but it’s different this time. Swear.”

“You say that every-time. But it does sound like it might be different.”

“Do you remember Dee from high school?”

“I don’t remember anything from high school.” Is it really that common to forget four years of your life?

“Yeah well. I met her again a few weeks ago. She was the one who used to take all the APs and she graduated early? She was like always tired and kinda funny. And she’s pretty. Like the natural kind of pretty. You’d look at her and want to give up the world for her kind of pretty. I don’t know.” Quinn listened quietly, detecting the hint of fear in Jack’s voice.

“I might be, like obsessed with her. I think she knows.”

“Wait, wait, wait. She knows? That you like her? And you’re not together yet?” Jack didn’t deny it when he said that he liked her.

“I-yes? I think so. She might be into me too and we did a thing earlier today and she flirts with me without even thinking about it? That’s gotta mean something right?”

“You did things with her?!She flirts with you?! Do something. But take it slow. She probably still wonders why you even give her the time of day. She likes you but she doesn’t know it yet.” Hearing his older brother say it untightened his chest.

“I was going to kiss her but I really wanted to things slow with her. She’s been through a bit and, I don’t know, I want to treat her special.” He’s glad that he has a person he can say the cringiest shit to. If it was anyone else on the other line, he would get toasted for the rest of his life. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve and was smart at reading people and their emotions. But sometimes he was just clueless on what to do with that knowledge.

We can hang tomorrow.

Who the fuck says that after going down on someone.

Jack didn’t text you that night.

Or the next morning.

You started panicking slightly when you come home from classes.

That had to have been the last straw for him.

He’s a fucking superstar, he lives in the New York City area, where all the pretty models and blue eyed blondes live. Why the hell would he go for a tired med student from his home state who didn’t care about herself enough to care for him?

Your mind runs a marathon as the elevator doors open to your floor. But when you approach your apartment, Jack is sitting on the floor next to door, scrolling on his phone.

You freeze and stare blankly as he realizes that you’re here.

He perks up and walks over to you pulling you into a light hug.

“Hey, Dee. How were classes?”

“Good. Thanks for asking.” You reply, hesitantly wrapping your arms back around him. You weren’t hugged a lot as a kid or growing up. You’ve hugged more in the last two weeks than you have in your entire life.

“I have a game later today. Wanna come? The other team…isn’t that good. We might win. Unless you have work to do. Or if you just don’t want to go that’s okay too. Or-“ he cuts off when you press a finger against his lips.

“I’d love to go. I finished a lot of my work during classes.” You smile removing your fingers, relaxing in his arms. “When is it?”

“At 7. I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You both just stand there for a minute before you remember social cues.

“So, come in? I’m hungry as fuck. We should eat.” You say pushing the door open, petting Nala as you walk in and Jack followed. He smiles at your awkwardness and accepts.

Your look is acceptable. Hair clutched back, light makeup, hoodie and sweats is your go-to anyway. Plus, you’re always cold.

You arrive at around quarter to seven and with the help of signs make your way to the lounge that Jack gave you a pass to.

There’s a guard at the door that held his hand out for the pass and when you gave it to him he eyed you wearily.

“You’re Hughes’ girl? Where did you get this?”

“Jack gave it to me.”

“Uh huh.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “So can I go in?”

“Sweetheart, Jack has only ever invited two other girls here and I can tell you right now, you’re not the third. Who gave you this pass?”

The mention of Jack bringing other girls here makes you absolutely sick to your stomach.

You might vomit.

But anger bubbles up your throat and you’re about to press your finger into the guards chest and give him a piece of your mind, when there’s a patter of feet and an excited “Dee!” coming from your left.

Jack has you in his arms already before you could register it. He tucks you into his shoulder, presses his lips against your temple, lingering, and faces the guard.

“Was there a problem?” The guards mouth hangs open and flickers between the two of you.

“None at all.” He opens the door and lets the two of you in. After he shuts the door and turns face you, you take a second to admire him.

He’s dressed in his game jersey, shoulder pads and everything; except for his skates.

He looks really good.

“You look really good.”

Silence.

“Are you blushing?”

Jack pulls you into his chest so you don’t see more of the pink adorning his cheeks.

“Am not,” he mutters above your head and you giggle as you try to untangle from his grasp.

You pull back and notice that he still has a tint on his cheeks. He holds your face for a moment, admiring every feature. Going from eye to eye, the slope of your nose, the dimple digging into your left cheek, a beauty mark on your chin, your lips.

You feel your breath quickening when his thumb grazes your cheek and his eyes linger on your lips a little longer.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the two of you.

“Warm ups in two!”

Jack sighed and looked back at you.

“I need to go. You can watch from here.” He led you further into the room and you could hear the crowd getting louder as you got closer. He led you to a balcony where there were a few other people, and pecked your cheek before going back.

The game starts and you’re more clueless that you thought you’d be. The puck was way too small and you didn’t bring your glasses, but you remember Jack telling you that he was ‘86’, so you tried to follow wherever he was.

The girl next to you strikes up a conversation which you cautiously tread with, but you warm up soon. She tells you that she’s dating someone on the team.

“Woah. That must be cool.” She looks confused.

“Aren’t you Jack’s girl?”

“No? We’re friends. I think. He’s really nice to me.” Your new friend blinks before talking again.

“He really likes you though, and you look like you really like him.”

“Well of course I do. He treats me really well.”

“Oh, babe. No. He like likes you. My boyfriend told me he talks about you all the time.” She holds your hand. You look down at it and back at her. You’re quiet for a moment. You’re not sure how to process that.

“I’m not sure how to process that.”

“Well, do you like him? Love him even?”

“I-“

You’re cut off by that awfully loud goal horn, and glance at the screen to see that Jack has scored. You felt a surge of pride in your chest and feel yourself smiling wide as Jack’s tiny figure skated around and fist bumped the players on the bench. He turns to your section for a moment, lingering for a sliver of a second and your heart stops. The game called for the face-off just a second later so he had to look away.

You look over to the girl on your right and she’s already looking at you with a half smirk.

Jack politely declined on drinks later in the locker room after the devils won.

He leans against his car and thinks about you. He really wanted to see you, needed your affirmation.

It’s all he seems to do now. Jack just wants reassurance and peace in knowing that you were there. He spent every waking moment thinking about you and how he got you to show sides of yourself that you don’t show to people. He tried to keep his personal life away from hockey but the way his instincts told him to look in your general direction after he scored made him sick to his stomach.

He might actually be stupid obsessed with you.

Trusting his gut on your body language and making a bold move the previous night may have been the best thing he’s ever done.

That means that he doesn’t need to be cautious with his flirting anymore. He knows exactly what he feels but he wants to wait til you come to that conclusion on your own.

He didn’t notice your quiet footsteps in his direction and was mildly startled when you were standing in front of him. Almost at once, he felt a smile adorn his face.

“That was so cool, I didn’t understand anything but I know you scored.” Your wide, twinkling eyes stared back up at him. “I’m proud of you.”

And that’s all it took for him to usher you into the back seat, strip off your sweatpants, and throw your legs over his shoulders.

Not even ten minutes later, your lungs are dying for air and your body is covered in a thin sheet of sweat. He was rougher this time, sucking a hickey on your neck before, getting the entire bottom half of his face messy, his own hooded eyes losing focus as he pleasured you.

“You back to me yet, baby?”

“Hm?”

You open your eyes and you’re in the front seat, cleaned up, pants back on, and Jack is fastening your seatbelt for you.

“I lost you for like, three minutes there. You okay?”

His voice is gentle and quiet, his index and thumb holding your chin softly as his azure eyes bore into yours.

“Chipotle?”

He laughs, pulling back and shifting the gear into drive, his hair falling slightly in his face and he pushes it back.

“All the chipotle in the world for my Dee.”

Your mind briefly flashed to how he kissed the tip of your nose before he went down on you, and not your lips.

You’re in Jack’s apartment now (your heart dropping when you thought of Nala, but then you remembered that you fed her quite well and she had to be passed out by now. Jack handed you a Hershey’s kiss to calm you down), and it’s big.

Like, huge.

Massive for someone who lives alone.

His TV was playing ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’ and you were watching like a hawk.

“I’ve never seen this one before.”

“Really? You don’t watch romcoms?” Jack looks at you surprised, sitting next to you with both of your chipotle orders and throwing a blanket over the two of you.

“No. I don’t really get the time.” You furrow your brows and turn to him with a blank expression. “You’ve showed me so much fun in the last few weeks. Thank you.”

Jack could happily die in that moment. He flashes back to yesterday again, your childlike wonder, the new things he learnt about you.

“‘S nothing yet. There’s so much more you deserve to feel happy about.” He kisses your temple before getting closer to you.

You both watch in silence for a while, occasionally laughing and aw-ing, until you can’t hold it back anymore.

“Do you think kissing is unhygienic?”

You look up to him, his unbuttoned shirt, messy hair and lingering smile making your heart skip a beat.

Oh no.

You have such a horrible, fat crush on him.

“Hm?”

“I-nothing.”

“M’kay.”

Sweet boy is not a multitasker and the movie was at a really good part, so he didn’t really get distracted and soon you were engrossed too.

You were still in a cloud of feelings and it was getting a bit much for you. Your head was usually void of emotion, so the change was welcome. And you had Jack to thank for that. He’s done so much for you, taken care of you in ways that no one has and no one ever will.

You realize that he could be your worst heartbreak or someone that’s going to be in your life forever.

You feel slightly sick thinking about it and you need to get it out of your system.

“Can I suck you off?” Your lips lightly brush his ear.

Now that.

That gets Jack’s attention.

He nearly snaps his neck to turn to face you and your noses touch.

“You- I- what?”

Your fingertips are feathery as you brush the hair out of his face.

“I want to suck your dick.”

“You don’t- if this is to- to reciprocate or something-“

“I promise it’s not. I really just want to.”

Jack is already semi-hard and he can feel his dress pants tighten. His eyes briefly widen and he borderline gulps before he watches your hand run down his chest and toy with his belt buckle. As soon as he gives you the green light and pauses ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’, you’re on your knees in front of him, just like how he was with you the previous night.

Jack’s sanity is once again lost as he watches you on your knees for him. You make a quick work of his belt buckle and pull down his dress pants just enough.

You can already see how loaded he is through his boxers and look back up at him with the same wide eyes that he goes crazy over.

“Cool.”

Jack barely has time to react over your concise approval of his length before you’re mouthing over his boxers, sucking softly, leaving Jack gasping for a breath.

You pull down his boxers and start working immediately, pumping him and wetting your hands slightly so you have more friction.

“Y’know, it’s crazy—I know what all of these veins are called.” You say, more to yourself but Jack’s half smile drops when you lay your tongue flat against his shaft and suck on his tip. He lets out an embarrassing sound between a staggered breath and a whimper as you make your way down. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact with him, making sure you’re getting it right. You come off and continue with your hands and look up at him.

“Good?”

“F- Christ- fuck, so good, baby. So good.”

Happy with yourself, you continue to suck him clean while he chokes out moans and his stomach clenches. You can feel him getting heavier in your mouth and you start speeding up, using both of your hands.

There’s a moment when he reaches forward to push your hair out of your face, so that you don’t get bothered and so that he sees you properly, which warms your heart.

He taps one of yours hands that’s on him to indicate that he’s close and you pull back with a kitten lick to his tip before sticking your tongue out.

You have Jack seeing stars when his load pumps into your mouth, and your eyes dart over his shirt clinging to his chest, his hair falling into his screwed shut eyes, his lips parted and his hand gripping the sofa with such intensity that his veins pop out.

You tuck him back into his clothing after cleaning him up, and he looks at you with tired eyes while making grabby hands.

You chuckle, climbing into his arms and he slumps his body against you, both of you now lying down on the couch as he unpauses the movie.

His head rests comfortably against your chest, one of your hands running through his hair, and the other intertwined with his.

It’s sweet.

Jack wakes up alone and panics at once. It’s embarrassing, really; like finding out your stuffed animal fell to the floor during your sleep as a toddler. But when he checks his messages, he finds a text from you.

Hey, I had to leave. I have a project due tomorrow and also Nala :( We can meet up later. I had fun yesterday. Thank you :))

It’s hits Jack how gone he is when he finds himself clutching his phone to his heart.

It takes a while.

He comes home fresh from morning practice took a nice long nap to clear his head before waking up properly to see that it was raining outside.

He was enjoying (not) the protein shake that he was required to drink and mindlessly scoring through plays from an old game, when it hits him like a sack of bricks.

Do you think kissing is unhygienic?

You think he doesn’t want to kiss you.

You think he’s toying with your heart by showing you all kinds of affection besides the one thing that both of you wanted so fucking bad.

You think he doesn’t like you enough to do that yet.

The drive to yours was smooth despite the rain pouring down from every direction, and because you always reminded him of road safety.

You were standing outside of the apartment building, looking like you were having an argument with.. your tiger.

Your hands were on your hips, body soaked and hair wet as you tried to coax Nala into shelter.

Jack laughed at both of your antics which got your attention. Your mind flashes back to the day that you met him, the pouring rain, and how awkward it was to meet someone you knew from a while back. You wave at him happily as he approached, but noticed a hint of anxiety and embarrassment.

“What’s wro-?“

“Are you into poetry?”

“Uh, sometimes? Why?”

“This- well, I can’t read it. Here.”

He hands over his phone, stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at anything but you. Puzzled, you cover his phone from the pelting droplets so you could read.

‘The first time you caught my eye

it was not love at first sight.

Instead a quiet curiosity was

planted in my chest and I knew

it was only a matter of time before

you sunk beneath my bones and

nurtured this deep seated familiarity

into a love so fierce that I would question

if I had ever been in love before.’

Lyra Wren.

You read it again.

There’s no way he actually searched for a poem to depict how he felt.

“Look, I didn’t understand half of it hit you get the-“

Jack was cut off by our lips against his.

It was short, maybe a second long, closed mouth, but you pulled away breathless and were close enough to feel his heart racing underneath his clothes.

How desperately he wanted your cold, soft lips against his again.

“So, you like me? For who I am?”

He nods.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I-“

You were interrupted by Nala’s whine (to say: I change my mind, I want to go inside), and you give Jack his phone, grab his hand and pull him inside.

“C’mon, we’ll get pneumonia.”

Your hands were still in each others, his engulfing yours, when you shut the door to your apartment, locked it, watched Nala bound to her room, and turned to face him again properly.

He was so, so close. Your lips were parted, just inches apart, your foreheads touching.

He closed the gap this time, almost groaning in relief when he felt your mouth properly against his, something you both yearned for without realizing. His lips move against yours gently, savoring as much of you as he can. He nips your bottom lip and it has you and Jack smiling into the kiss. And then it’s a mess, teeth clashing, giggling, tongues lolling over another, one of his hands cupping your face and the other wrapped around your waist, but it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

You pull back.

“I love you more.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #ellie writes 🙂‍↔️#jack Hughes fluff

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wooahaes · 6 months ago

Text

svt - whatever you say, beautiful

pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader

prompt: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

warnings: established relationship aus. food and alcohol mentions. jeonghan and reader lovingly calling each other 'ugly' like an old married couple. 96z roommates au (jun). soonyoung's terrible mayo-ketchup concoction (jun). reader gets called beautiful back (jun, soonyoung). friends -> lovers (jun, soonyoung, jihoon). bickering as a love language (minghao, seungkwan). sexual implications from a third party (chan telling seungkwan to let him know if he needs to put headphones on or leave).

daisy's notes: i wrote that vernon drabble and gave myself brainrot. also on jeonghan's: ik there's cultures that do this lol but for those unaware: pls don't take it as a serious thing haha its meant to be akin to calling someone silly or goofy. i just think it gives old married couple energy to be like 'you're a nuisance but you're my nuisance and i adore you wholeheartedly.' like seungkwan tells them: just tie the knot if they want to, because they already act like they've been married for seventy years.

choi seungcheol

seungcheol was sprawled out in your bed, blanket securely tucked around him while he scrolled through his phone. sleepovers, at this stage in your relationship, weren't exactly uncommon... but the giddiness still hadn't worn off. the two of you didn't intend on moving in together for at least another year, both of you enjoying living on your own for right now after so, so much time of living with other people. still... that would never stop you from enjoying the sight of your beloved in your bed, ready for sleep, and winding down by checking his social media for the second or third time today.

until you saw him stop. he furrowed his brow, that handsome face completely perplexed. and you fought back a grin, because you knew exactly what was confusing him.

today the two of you decided to publicly reveal your relationship to more than just immediate family and very very close friends. seungcheol had been thrilled over it: he'd always been wanting to show you off since you started dating. but when you asked for a little time, he didn't fight: he just met you where you were. and now that everyone knows...

"what is this?"

he turned his phone to face you, giving you full view of the caption you lovingly wrote out. it sat underneath a collection of pictures, some taken by you, others by him, and one taken by one of his close friends in preparation of this special day... and, of course, it was a silly little joke.

i'm not arguing with my man and his big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. ❤️

you snickered, crawling into bed next to him. "what's wrong with it?"

"nothing!" but he was pouting, and you knew what was coming next. "did you see my post?" he was already moving to pull it up, as though you hadn't read and re-read it a million times while he was in the shower.

so you decided to torment him. just a little bit. "you don't like it...?" you frowned, putting on your best 'kicked puppy' look.

"i do like it!" he was quick to try and assuage your worries. he turned over so that he could face you. "but... when we decided to tell everyone, i thought you wouldn't post a meme as the caption."

"so you hate it." you crossed your arms, pouting as hard as you could muster.

"i don't hate it! i didn't say--i didn't mean that, i just--" he looked up, watching you for longer than a few seconds. then he snorted, hand resting over his heart for a minute. "you're going to be the death of me."

with a snort, you crawled closer to him, all but dragging him up so that you could kiss him. "you know you're the normal one here."

he giggled, capturing your lips in another quick peck. "maybe i am," he said. "... i do like it, though. just warn me next time."

yoon jeonghan

joshua (hannie's coworker): [IMAGE.JPEG]

joshua (hannie's coworker): can you come get him he's bickering with seungkwan rn

joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's mostly seungkwan bickering but jeonghan is actually fighting back a little)

joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's literally over who's paying for chan's birthday dinner. cheol literally picked up the check half an hour ago right after they started.)

you: omw. also idk how seungkwan does it. i'm not arguing with a man with big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

the moment you pulled up outside the restaurant, you should have known exactly why jeonghan was grinning at you. he waved from the sidewalk, turning back to his friends to talk just a bit longer. he didn't move, which... on most days, you wouldn't care. but it was late, and you had work in the morning, and (according to joshua) they just spent the past few hours just chatting after their meal. five minutes melted into ten, and then into twenty...

and so you rolled down your window, yelling out a 'happy birthday!' to chan that finally got jeonghan's attention. another grin, and that was enough to tell you that he'd been waiting for that. he wouldn't do it for everyone, but chan? you knew their friendship was different. he hugged the guy one last time, and then made his way over to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. with a final wave to his friends, you pulled back onto the road, and started the journey home.

"so... you really think my eyes are beautiful?"

ah. that was the other reason the fucker wouldn't stop grinning at you. of course it couldn't just be one thing with jeonghan.

"you think i'm beautiful?" he watched you with this knowing smile, as though the two of you hadn't been dating for years now. as though you hadn't drunkenly confessed it before. "i'm starting to think you actually like me."

"you're just now realizing that?" you flicked on your blinker, coasting into the turn lane. "do you think i'd be living with you if i didn't?"

"you never call me beautiful to my face anymore, you know," he said, reaching for your bottle of water. without a care, he uncapped it, taking a long sip from it. "you just call me 'ugly' whenever you call me something."

that was far from true, to be fair: he was your love, your baby, your honey... and he was 'ugly' when you were particularly affectionate. "i have to keep you humble, ugly. you already know how beautiful you are."

his eyes twinkled a little as he looked at you, that fond smile telling you all you needed to know. "i know, ugly." he'd never been afraid to throw the word back at you, and you hoped that the tiny thrill it brought you never died.

no wonder seungkwan once said the two of you should go ahead and tie the knot. "you already act like it," he'd said, side-eyeing the two of you before taking a long sip of whatever coffee-flavor-of-the-day he'd picked out.

he reached over, prodding your cheek. when you glanced over, just enough to let him know you were listening, he just leaned against the center console with this handsome smile he reserved for you. "i love you."

and maybe he was a little drunk. just a little. but you let him have this one. "i love you, too, handsome."

joshua hong

"am i not worth the effort?" joshua couldn't even fight his playful grin now, his phone in his hand. "you couldn't even come up with an original post for our anniversary?"

with a roll of your eyes, you glanced back over his own post for a moment, pausing your search for movie snacks. he'd written out this long, sappy love letter to you about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life alongside you. it was sweet, and a little silly when he recounted the embarrassing story of how the two of you realized your feelings for one another (all it took was one spilled milkshake, courtesy of jeonghan), but overall a very public display of his adoration toward you. the picture-perfect, romance novel act of love from your boyfriend.

in other words: he was hamming it up so that people would gush over how he was the most adoring boyfriend, and how lucky you two were to have one another based on everything he said. in reality, he was literally eating your snacks right now. and later that night, he'd put his cold feet on you and then laugh over it.

"uh-huh." you continued searching through the cabinets after pocketing your phone. "should i have told everyone about how you somehow always manage to eat the last poptart in the box, even though you straight up told me that you keep count just so you can tease me over it?" you tossed an empty box into the bin, making a mental note to add them to the list. "or the time you literally ate all of my fries when we were on that road trip?"

"you're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"didn't mention how god awful your workout clothes stink, either." you grimaced at the memory alone. "seriously, dude, how fucking hard do you go?"

"i forgot to wash them twice!" he turned around on the couch. "all because i said i thought it was cute when you mumble in your sleep and keep me up all night--"

"listen. i'm just doing damage control for you, hong," you pulled down a bag of chips, carefully rolled and clipped to keep them fresh. making your way back over, you continued, "really, you should be hiring me. i called you beautiful and mentioned those big brown bambi eyes." you threw yourself down next to him, bag crinkling as you unrolled it. you held up the first chip, an offering to him that he leaned over to take. "i think i deserve payment for it all."

but he grinned at you, settling back in. "i'll think about it. i'll get the big box of poptarts next time," he poked your side, just hard enough to get you to move off of his blanket, and then drew you right back in once he could throw it over you. "and i'll let you pick the first movie."

with a roll of your eyes, you reached for the controller. "what a gentleman."

wen junhui

your life was truly, sincerely, over. this was it. this was the big one. the big fuck-up that would kill you from embarrassment alone. if you were a sim in the sims 4, little sim jihoon would be sobbing over your body right now as the grim reaper came to take you away.

instead, he was just stiffling his laughter, patting the top of your head as you bury your face in a pillow. "it's not that bad."

"it's terrible! i was only posting that picture because we looked good!" you jerked up, staring at him. "and--and jun liked it! did he not read the caption?!"

"oh, he read it," soonyoung was doing something unholy in the kitchen, from the sounds of the ketchup bottle being opened alongside the smell of mayo. not another thing to ruin your day. "he's on his way home, by the way."

yep, this was how you died. surrounded by two of your roommates and being confronted by the guy you've had feelings for for... fuck, how long had you known him? since college? he'd been there for you after a particularly nasty breakup not long after the two of you met, and that was when your stupid heart fell for him. you'd always pushed back against it: it wasn't the right time. he was dating someone at one point. he wouldn't like you back. but the more the two of you started spending time alone, the deeper you fell.

"have you thought about just telling him how you feel?" jihoon asked, stealing your pillow and hugging it against his chest. "i know it's scary, but i don't think it'd go badly."

soonyoung looked over, condiments smeared on the outsides of his mouth as he chewed. he swallowed, wiping his face with a paper towel as he spoke, "even if he didn't like you, he'd let you down easily."

"soonyoung!" jihoon turned to face him. you rarely saw jihoon mad, but this had to be the closest.

soonyoung realized what he said. and immediately took off, shutting himself back into his room as jihoon raced to encounter him first. while he tried to jostle the door open, the yelling faded into background noise.

jun... what?

the apartment door opened after a while, wonwoo standing there with jun right behind him. without hesitating, you hopped up off of the couch, immediately excusing yourself as you went to hide in your own room. jun called after you, and you just shut the door behind you, face in your hands. this could not be happening. this wasn't happening. if soonyoung was telling the truth, and, because jihoon yelled at him, he definitely was... what now?

jun knocked on your door. everything outside of your room was silent now. if jihoon was chewing out soonyoung, you'd probably hear some of it. yet... quiet. peaceful quiet that you weren't exactly used to with this bunch.

"can we talk?" he spoke up after a moment. "i don't exactly get the caption, but... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"

oh. he had no idea it was some meme you'd seen online that always reminded you of him. yet the gentle way he'd asked made your heart flutter all the same. you said nothing, just sitting with your back against the door.

"it's okay if you do." you could hear the sound of him moving, and slowly, it sounded as though he was sitting, too. "i... i think you have pretty eyes, too." was it possible to hear his uneasy smile in the way his voice shook just a little, his nerves so, so evident? "the others left, by the way. so we could talk. wonwoo was confused, but jihoon dragged both him and soonyoung out for a walk."

that answered one question, at least. again, you just said nothing, curling up as tight as you could. your heart hammered in your ears, and you shut your eyes. was this really happening?

"i've liked you for a long time," he said, voice just as gentle as it was before. like he, too, was scared of what this all meant. the two of you were crossing a line you never thought you'd even tread near, let alone vault over. "it's okay if you don't feel the exact same way. but... you're sweet. and i--"

you bit the bullet. you got up, opening your door to see jun turning to face you. he'd been sitting there, back against the door, talking to the air while you'd been too scared to face him. he stood up as quickly as he could, watching you carefully.

he was the one who spoke first. "hi."

"hi." you said it back, heart racing. "i think you're beautiful."

and oh-so-shyly he smiled back at you. "i... think you're beautiful, too."

maybe this would be the start of something good.

kwon soonyoung

with your eyes screwed shut, you knew that seungcheol was going to give you so, so much shit about this when you told him. knowing your luck, it was going to go horribly, and you'd probably die right here and it'd be your ghost haunting seungcheol... but that was something you could deal with.

yet the moment 'tiger kwon' popped up on your phone, you knew you couldn't avoid this forever. you'd pester soonyoung later for changing his name in your phone again. for now, you just answered the request for a video call, and you were met with those pretty eyes staring at you in the low light.

"hi." he giggled. "i don't think that text was meant for me."

astute observation, considering the first three messages before you gushed about his eyes and called him beautiful were "FUCK" and "CHEOL I CAN'T DO THIS" and then a picture of the two of you from when you grabbed dinner together earlier. you expressed your romantic frustrations in the only way you knew how: a screenshot you'd seen of someone's tweet. the same thing you'd said to seungcheol many, many times before.

"so what does that even mean?" he's grinning, and you knew that it's half-genuine. he was smart enough to get the gist of it (to put it simply: you were, as you'd been told, down bad) but you weren't sure how often soonyoung saw memes like this. he was watching your face, those cute eyes shining with the light from his phone screen, and he rolled onto his stomach. "when did you get worse at technology than me?"

was this what confessing to soonyoung would bring? a lifetime of having a cute man tease you oh-so-lovingly?

"are you alive?"

you managed to squeak out a deeply embarrassed, "yep."

he just giggled, head resting on his hand. "do you text seungcheol like that a lot?" he waited. and when you didn't answer, too embarrassed to speak, he continued on, "i think he and jihoon trade war stories, then. jihoon..." his cheeks were dusted red. "jihoon hears a lot about you."

holy fuck. your stomach was doing flips. "soonyoung?"

"this is embarrassing, isn't it?" he chuckled, eyes focusing on his screen again. "jihoon said it's some sort of joke. vernon showed it to him once. but... i think you're beautiful, too."

truly, this man would be the death of you if he kept smiling at you like that. like you were his world already, eyes shiny and cheeks red.

"i..." your mouth felt dry. "can we... maybe... a date?" something about seeing his face right now made your mind go blank.

he chuckled. "i'm free this weekend," he said, still smiling. "we'll talk tomorrow morning. okay?"

"okay." you licked your lips, just trying to come down from this high. "goodnight."

the moment he ended the call, you were texting seungcheol: LET'S FUCKING GO GOT A DATE W SOONYOUNG!!!

and in return, he sent you three words: about fucking time.

jeon wonwoo

people always warned you about marrying the love of your life. the honeymoon period was something strong, that tinted your days with sugary kisses and honeyed skies until it all dissolved when reality washed back over the two of you. yet you had been married to wonwoo for two years now, and that sweetness never seemed to melt from your lives. the honeymoon period was over, yes, but the work you put into your relationship kept things lively. arguments came and went, and you always found yourself enamored with the man who guarded your heart in the same way you guarded his.

that was why anniversaries were special. not because they were another milestone, another celebration of a year the two of you made together... but an excuse to gush about wonwoo. you kept it to two days in particular: your wedding anniversary, and his birthday, both dates set months apart. wonwoo was different than you, however: he didn't want to broadcast his feelings for the world to see. he reserved all the sweet things for words he physically wrote down for you to read, or as things he said to you outright when he was sappy enough.

and you? well... he knew your true feelings would never be one-hundred-percent out there. those were reserved for him. but if you wanted to gush about how much you loved him, then who was he to stop you?

he'd been scrolling through his instagram feed that night while brushing his teeth, only to snort when he finished reading your post. the duality of your relationship was beautiful: he'd posted a short, sweet caption for you underneath a lovely quote from a book the two of you loved. and you had gushed... and finished it off with a meme that you sent to him the moment you saw it. i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. the same words you teased him with when you were in a particularly playful mood.

so when he returned to you, he just crawled into bed, pressing kisses against your face. his affectionate moods would always take you by surprise, and he was glad for that. it spiced up the relationship just a little that he was still able to surprise you after all this time.

"you're so cute," he curled up with you, pulling you into his arms. "happy anniversary. i love you."

you snorted a little. "i see you've noticed."

"should i have read it sooner?"

you waved him off, "no, no... i'm glad you didn't see it until now. check the comments when you get the chance. a bunch of your friends loved it."

he was sure that they did. they all seemed to adore the duality of the two of you more than he did. the quiet, studious wonwoo and his silly love who made him laugh more than anyone else. but he knew as well as you did: no one would love your dynamic more than the two of you did.

he was your home, just as you had become his.

lee jihoon

all jihoon wanted to do was ask if you wanted to go to dinner. he'd suggested a place, you'd suggested another, and he mentioned not wanting that kind of cuisine... only for the words to appear on his phone within the next few minutes: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

... beautiful?

"soonyoung!" he yelled out for one of his housemates. if he wasn't here, then seungcheol would come in. yet he heard the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, soonyoung sliding against the wooden floor a little as he looked in. "read this."

so he did. he read it once, and then again before looking up. "... they're flirting with you, i think."

"that's weird, right?" jihoon looked up. "they don't like me back."

"how do you know that?" soonyoung grinned, leaning against the empty doorframe. "you don't know that. they're hitting on you. shoot your shot."

"i'm not going to--"

his phone started to ring. he looked down, wide-eyed, as he realized you started to call him. before he could debate denying the call and pretending the text never came, soonyoung bolted forward, answering it before immediately leaving his room. the little shit--

"oh my god," you said, "i'm so, so fucking sorry--mingyu's here and i was trying to look up other places to eat on my laptop, and he had the bright idea to text you that shit. i left my phone alone for one minute, and this is what happened--"

"why would he text me that?" jihoon could feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest. why would mingyu tease him like that? mingyu knew that you were off limits when it came to this kind of thing. unless...

"i--well, i--" you stammered, all sentences melting in your mouth before you finally let out a long sigh. in the background, he could hear mingyu begin to laugh. "shut up!" and then the sound of a door slamming behind you. "fucking--" you let out a sigh. "sorry. made the mistake of putting you on speaker."

"that's okay." jihoon leaned against the back of the chair. "but my question...?"

with another sigh, he could hear you settle into something. a chair, a couch--he wasn't sure. "this isn't how i wanted this to go... but... i like you. and i guess mingyu's had enough of hearing about it. it's okay if you don't feel the same, but... that's all."

quiet. neither of you moved to speak, to pitch another restaurant to go to. jihoon opened a new tab on his browser, already typing in a new search for the best places to take a first date.

"jihoon?"

no point in not taking the leap now. you'd already taken the first step: he could do the next one. "can... can tonight be our first date, then? instead of us getting dinner as friends."

quiet.

"jihoon..." your voice was soft. "i'd love that."

note to self: thank mingyu.

xu minghao

"what does this mean?" minghao looked up from his phone, where you could clearly see the post you'd made earlier. it was a combination of candids and the actual pretty pictures you'd taken of him, all captioned with a joke. he began typing something out, "we bickered about toast this morning."

"oh my god, hao--"

then your phone buzzed. you looked down, and there it was: minghao calling you out on your own damn post. when you looked up from your phone, he just had that stupid smug grin on his face. he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as he waited for you to defend yourself.

"it's a joke. it's a meme. maybe you should learn them, old man."

he rolled his eyes. "it's a lie and i'm not standing for it. everyone knows that we argue about everything."

even before the two of you started dating, you'd bicker about the smallest things. none of it was ever serious--the two of you had only fought a handful of times in the entirety of knowing one another--but you remembered the annoyed look you would get sometimes. just go make out already had been what his friends would say. eventually, it turned into mingyu telling minghao to go ahead and give you the marriage papers already. the two of you were in it for life, weren't you?

which, ultimately, turned into you and minghao bickering about that, too. the two of you hadn't even been dating at the time, but you would both be lying if you said that conversation hadn't made the two of you figure out your feelings. you'd retorted that minghao wouldn't get along with your parents like that, leading to him actively calling them to prove that, yes, in fact, he would.

(you would simply never live down both of them going "he isn't your boyfriend? we were waiting for you to be ready to tell us," and the subsequent call where your mother chewed you out for hanging up on her right after.)

"we don't argue about everything."

minghao gave you a pointed look. "strawberry jam."

you pinched the bridge of your nose. "not this shit again. i thought we agreed that butter is--"

... fuck, he was proving his point.

"fine," you said. "we bicker a lot. doesn't mean i can't lie via meme."

he just smiled, happy to have won whatever little argument this almost turned into. "everyone knows this is our love language," he said, head resting in his hand. "but fine. you can lie through your memes."

and thus he put the two of you on equal grounds once again: a truce, in a sense. just like most of your little debates ended in.

kim mingyu

"you know you could just call me pretty if you wanted to."

your face burned at the way mingyu was giggling now. all you did was text him a meme (yes, from the other end of the couch) and wait for his response. he'd read it under his breath before bursting into giggles, so, so enamored with the way that you were. he always had been: mingyu, unlike you, wasn't shy when it came to his affection. he complimented you constantly on anything and everything, whether it be your appearance or the way you rambled to him or the way you clammed up "all cutely embarrassed" (his words, not yours) when you realized just how much you said. you told him once that you weren't the most open about your feelings or the loudest.

and he'd merely kissed your forehead and said that was okay. he was loud enough for the both of you. if loving him quietly meant that you loved him, then that was all that mattered to him.

you whined his name at him, trying to hide your face. you knew that you always would get this doe-eyed, dreamy look on your face whenever he teased you like this. you caught a glimpse of it in a mirror once when you were at a store buying furniture, and swore to yourself you'd never let him catch you like this so obviously ever again.

of course, that was moot because mingyu saw that sappy look on your face and treasured it every time... but for your own sake, you couldn't let him notice.

yet he laughed anyway, crawling over to pull your hands away from your face. "i mean it!" he squished your cheeks, "just call me pretty next time. that's what you wanted to say, right?"

you pushed his hands away from your face, just so that you could speak clearly. "i think you have pretty eyes."

his smile dropped, eyes going wide. and he slowly pulled away, face turning redder by the second as he turned from you. "you can't just say it like that! i wasn't prepared!"

you felt a little bold this time. "whatever you say, beautiful--"

the groan that mingyu let out, fully flustered by you now, only made you feel more confident in teasing him. no wonder his friends loved to pick on him... he was so cute about it.

lee seokmin

the minute you finished saying it, seokmin had burst into giggles. all because you wanted to jokingly flirt with your beloved and see his reaction. he had looked up from his phone, where he'd been idly googling to find dinner options, and then you could see those gears turning before he started laughing.

"really?" he reached over, drawing you into his arms. "so you won't argue with me tonight?" seokmin squished your cheeks to pucker your lips, planting an loud kiss against them. "all because you think i'm beautiful?"

you just fought back a laugh, reaching up to toy with the hair at the base of his neck. "whatever you want, beautiful."

another giggle burst past his lips, and he dropped one hand down, sliding it up your thigh. "do you mean it? or are you just flirting with me?" he gently squeezed your thigh, just a little. "you don't have to flirt with me like that. i'm already yours."

ever the romantic. you drew him in for another quick kiss, soflty laughing against his lips. "gotta keep you here somehow," you teased. "it's hard to compete with you when you're mister perfect."

his nose brushed against your own. "i think you keep up just fine." he paused, drumming his fingers against the outside of your thigh idly. "can i confess something?"

you watched him curiously. "huh?"

"your best friend..." his hand slid up to your hip before he loosely draped his arms around your waist. "when we got together, they messaged me to tell me you talk about my eyes a lot."

oh no. "you know you have pretty eyes--"

"like a baby seal." he giggled. "and something about having puppy dog eyes, too."

ohhh no. of course they'd rat you out. "but am i wrong?"

he just nuzzled his nose against your own for a minute, planting a tiny kiss against the tip of it. "i just like you. you're so silly, it's cute."

with a smile, you just settled against him. "i mean it, though. pick wherever you want, beautiful." his giggles only made you happier. "i'll pay."

boo seungkwan

"chan and i bicker less than we do."

seungkwan wasn't phased by your flirty word or the way you were trying to call him beautiful (my boo-tiful boo, if your silly phone contact was anything to go by). he just looked up from his phone with a flat expression, which... probably meant he saw that post somewhere for himself. the lack of originality probably also got you here.

"okay, fine, that's true," you said, rolling your eyes. "you're still beautiful, though."

"i know that," he said. "but we argue a lot over silly stuff. vernon said he thinks it's a love language."

another roll of your eyes. "seungkwan, we don't argue that much."

"don't we? remember that time the neighbors got concerned because we got a little too heated about the way one of our dramas ended?" he crossed his arms. "i still think the ending was good, but you got angry over the way it tried to incorporate greek myth and--"

"it was incorporating greek tragedy and didn't give it the sad ending!" you threw your hands up in the air. "don't promote it as being based on the myth if you aren't going to have a tragic ending!"

"it didn't have to! it was a retelling! things don't have to adhere strictly to--"

chan's door opened, and he walked out of his room. he looked at the two of you before groaning. "this fight again?"

"we're not arguing!" the two of you said together, turning to face him.

chan just rolled his eyes, making his way over to the kitchen. "sure..." then he took one look at the two of you, shaking his head. "i'm going to see if yeonjun wants to go out. don't do anything until i'm gone or have headphones on."

"we don't--"

"you do. just keep arguing or whatever," he pulled out his phone, walking back to his room.

his door shut. and the two of you just looked at each other. seungkwan rolled his eyes, flopping back down on his end of the couch.

"i hate him," he said offhandedly, no venom behind it. you knew just as well as seungkwan did that if chan was in trouble, seungkwan would be one of the first to run there. "who does he think he is? he always acts as if he knows our relationship better than we do."

you slid over closer to him, and he lifted an arm so that you could cuddle in. "he's a jerk," you said, again, no real malice behind it at all. "you should come live with me."

he rolled his eyes. "you always say that." he turned his face, kissing your temple. "like we don't have plans already."

once his lease was up. but you just looked up at him, smiling a little. "whatever you say, beautiful."

that shy smile told you all you needed to know. keep calling me sweet things, then.

chwe vernon

"uh-huh." he didn't even look up from his phone, scrolling through his youtube history. "did i send you this video?"

you frowned. "you're not even going to say anything?"

"you've used that on me before." he continued to scroll. he looked up for just a moment. "also, i'm thinkin'... maybe we could go get tacos for lunch? haven't been to that place in a while." vernon turned his attention back to his phone. "i'm down for whatever, though."

with a groan, you slumped into the couch, already googling for cheesy pick-up lines. the back-up plan, always, for when you need to tease your boyfriend. "hey, nonny? do you have a map--"

"because you're lost in my eyes," he said without missing a beat. "actually, i'm really craving tacos now. i think we could get an order to-go if you don't feel like going out."

he hated you. this had to explain everything. "do you believe in love at first sight--"

"i might," he moved over so that he was closer to you, pulling your legs into his lap. "so, were you being legit about the not arguing thing? because i might take my chance and order anyway."

with a roll of your eyes, you gave up. you weren't going to win this time around. "get your tacos, beautiful," you reached up, turning his face toward you. "i'll pay."

he snorted, bursting into giggles as he leaned over to kiss you. "you're such a dork."

you just smiled into his kiss. "but you love it."

lee chan

you loved confusing chan so, so much. all he did was ask what you wanted for dinner, and you hit him back with "whatever you want, beautiful. i'm not gonna argue with a man who has big brown eyes." thus began the confused looks as he looked at you, then his phone, unsure of how to respond to that.

"... what?"

"i said we can get whatever you want," you shrugged. "i'm not picky--"

"that's not what you said." he frowned just a little, clearly aware that you were teasing him in some way... but not quite connecting the dots quite yet. "you never call me beautiful," was what he settled on a moment later.

which was true. you often opted to call him handsome, usually with a soft laugh and a smile that showed just how endeared to him you really were. on occasion, you'd call something about him pretty--the way he styled his hair, or the makeup he wore once when mingyu roped him into being a model for him--but beautiful? as much as you thought he was (chan deserved all the complimentary words, in your humble, unbiased opinion), you'd never voiced that opinion to him directly. the closest was the time you told one of your friends that he had beautiful eyes.

he narrowed his eyes at you. "is this a joke?" for a split second, he glanced down at the phone in your hands. "... are you recording?"

"i can't call my man 'beautiful'?" you put on a fake pout, just to tease him further. "you really think i'm cruel enough to make fun of you like that?"

chan, however, knew you. he knew that you were easily swayed into pulling pranks on him. that time he introduced you to jeonghan was enough proof of that--and every subsequent trip with his friends always seemed to result in them picking out his weak spot and turning you against him, just for a simple joke. if it bothered him, he would have said something... but it did leave him fully aware that you were the kind of person to lovingly tease him.

lovingly, he told himself. he knew it was. but sometimes he wondered if you were put on this planet just to mess with him in a way he'd secretly love. if you were going to be the death of him, then at least he'd die loving you.

"okay." he made his way over, pulling up a restaurant. he showed you his screen, and immediately you focused on the fact that this place was far from cheap. "i want to go here."

"channie, we--"

"you just said you weren't going to argue," he smiled at you, leaning against you. "hm?"

with a sigh, you shook your head. "whatever you want, beautiful," you reached up. "i'll just eat ramen for the next few weeks--"

he snorted, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "just book it for our anniversary, then." he paused for a moment, just watching you with a tiny smile. "... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"

how could you say anything other than 'yes' when he was staring at you with them?

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog

@actuallynarii @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunnyunny

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shirefantasies · 8 months ago

Text

LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 months ago

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Mornings Like This

Shunsui Kyoraku x Fem! Reader

***This fic is rated R, if you are not 18 or older, please select a different novel, thank you***

Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), cockwarming(?), creampie, soft morning sex with Shunsui been eating my brain alive o.O

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's Note: Ok yeah this man...this MAN holy shit I just think he's hot okay? Lazy morning sex just FITS HIM too well, he's so attractive, I love him. I would let him do unspeakable things to me. Also if this man called me sweetheart I think I'd die on the spot

ANYWHO Enjoy <3

The rising sun is what wakes you, the warmth of its rays penetrating the exposed skin on your back. It’s a lovely morning, the breeze that flows through the barracks is cool and gentle and crisp. Every morning is a good morning though, when you wake up in Shunsui’s arms. He’s still snoring away, the rise and fall of his chest lifting your head with every breath. He’s so handsome like this. He’s handsome always, but especially on mornings like these, where he’s naked beneath you and his hair is loose over his pillows. You can’t help it when you allow your fingers to trace shapes into his chest, and move your hand up behind his neck to lean up and leave a sweet kiss on his lips. That wakes him up and he immediately leans into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips and feeling your skin give beneath his fingers. It’s meant to be a chaste kiss, a sweet and innocent press of your lips to his. But it isn’t long before you can feel something poking at your thigh.

“Shunsui, you’re hard love.” His chuckle is deep and full, makes your body warm from the inside out.

“Yeah, I guess I am. You gonna do anything about it?” That voice could make you melt any day, and today is no exception. You don’t bother with the banter, you’re more than ready for him, even though you can feel the soreness settling in from your escapades last night. This man was going to drain you of all your energy and then some. It’s lazy, the way you move to straddle your legs over him, and only just barely lift yourself up enough to slip him right inside you. The both of you groan, surely still sensitive even after so many hours of rest. His hands clamp down harder on your hips when you fully seat yourself on his cock and grind your hips down onto it.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” You hum, wait for his grip to loosen and lie back down on top of him. His arms come around you and he flips the two of you on your side, curling his entire body around yours and wrapping your legs around his waist. He can’t be comfortable, with your leg beneath his side as he lays on it, but he seems unbothered when his arms tighten around you and he thrusts his hips up slowly. You can feel him deep inside you, rocking sweetly back and forth, hitting every little soft spot that makes you tremble in his hold.

“Oh my pretty girl, already shaking? Hmm I must be doing something right.” You nod into his shoulder, arms tight around his neck. He turns his head to kiss your temple, pairing it with an especially hard thrust up into you. It’s enough to make you gasp and your cunt clenches down tight.

“Ya gotta loosen up, sweetheart. I can’t move with you gripping so hard.” He lays another sweet kiss on your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and massaging your hips to get you to relax. He’s always been good with his words of praise, lacing everything in a deep, honeyed tone.

“So good for me, my beautiful wife. Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? So pretty I could stare at you forever.” When you finally do relax he’s pulling you down onto his cock while he throws his hips up, hitting deeper and harder. Your head is spinning, the pleasure pulsing through your body along with the beat of your heart. Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and you’re shaking like a leaf in the wind while Shunsui holds you tight and keeps fucking into you, pushing you into a field of pleasure you’re only familiar with when he’s desperate to cum deep inside you. His teeth grab the tip of your ear, then graze at your neck, and finally he bites at your lip as you both pant in the morning sun. A thin sheen of sweat has formed over the both of you, hot bodies interlocked and moving in tandem for pleasure. You kiss him then, deep and slow and tongues dancing together, and with one final thrust he’s cumming deep inside you, warmth filling the pit of your belly.

“Thank you for that, sweetheart.” He untangles your limbs and rolls onto his back once more, lying you in the same position you’d woken up in, only this time he’s left his softening cock to plug up your poor pussy. It’s a mistake when you lean up to kiss him once again, an ‘of course, my love’ easily slipping through your lips. Just from the kiss, you can feel his dick jump to life, making him groan deep in his throat.

“Didn’t expect you to be ready so soon, Shunsui. And from a kiss no less.” He laughs at that.

“Obviously it’s because a beautiful girl like you just kissed me. I can’t believe such a gorgeous woman is my wife.” You have to giggle at that, the little flatterer he is.

“Shunsui, we’ve been married for 152 years. You can’t keep not believing I’m your wife.” He leans down and kisses you, rocking his hips up to make you gasp, taking the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. You’re gasping when he pulls away, a devious grin on that handsome face of his.

“Maybe not, but I can surely appreciate every minute of it.” He stills his hips, relaxing all the way and holding you close.

“152 years and I’m still madly in love with you. You do things to me, woman. Wonderful, devilish things.” You press a kiss into his chest, allowing your body to go limp in his grasp.

“It’s a good thing I’m still in love with you too, then. We might have a problem otherwise.” He smiles down at you, and you return it, his hand brushing back the hair that had fallen in your face.

“It’s a good thing we don’t have a problem.” You nod, then lie your head down on his chest and listen to his heart beating. You feel all of him, his cock filling you, his strong arms wrapped tight around you, his fingers where they trace lines on your back, his breath on the crown of your head. You feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. You feel the love he pours into every action he takes with you, even an action so small as saying your name.

Nothing beats mornings like these.

#bleach smut #bleach x reader #shunsui kyoraku #bleach shunsui #kyoraku shunsui x reader #bleach kyoraku #shunsui kyoraku x reader #shunsui kyoraku smut #kyoraku shunsui smut

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jhdyuiee · 4 months ago

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tantalizing

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ pairing: idol bf!mark x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ tags/warnings: slight fluff, smut!, protected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, kissing/making out, nipple play/breast play, multiple orgasms, mentions of squirting, marking, possessive mark (?), whipped mark (!?)

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ w.c: 1.8k

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ a.n: hi! as per requested by a poll i conducted, here it is! a mark smut fic, woohoo! i hope you all can enjoy it! school has been a real pain in the butt lately, like why they give so much work ㅠㅠ !? anyhow i hope you can look forward to my next release, 'die with a smile.' i didn't intend to release another jaehyun fic so soon but... i love the man ㅠㅠ. please stay safe, i love you all, and see you next time! jiji out 🤍

++ i just wanna quickly say that over the past week a lot has happened in nct specifically & i want to clarify/say that i want full justice for the victim(s) involved, they didn't deserve the disgusting and vile things that guy was doing to them. may he rot in jail, like honestly he ruined the lives of all those around him for his horrid selfish desires. frik you man.

you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the door to fly open. waiting for one individual, your boyfriend– mark lee.

sporting a rather sexy, black lace lingerie you await the idol after his long day at work. a new comeback meant his schedule was busier, and what better way to congratulate him than sex. however you also admit, you’ve been feeling rather lonely and needy. so ain’t this a win-win situation?

you’re later knocked from your thoughts when you hear the front door open. it was quite late when you turned to look at the clock, he must’ve been exhausted. guilt was starting to consume you, maybe you should do this another day, maybe you should-

“babe?” mark’s raspy voice calls for you as he enters the room.

fuck, now it’s too late to back out.

you smile at your boyfriend who has an unreadable expression as he eyes you up and down, down and up. “everything alright?” you question him when he doesn’t say another word.

he still doesn’t respond, however instead his body responds for him as he inches closer. step-by-step until he’s only an inch away. he looks down while you look up.

mark curses himself. how could you be so fucking hot, he must’ve stricken the jackpot with you. oblivious to his thoughts, you just stay there– frozen.

“you're tantalizing, you know that?” he finally speaks up, reaching his hand to caress your cheek. you smirk, “am i?”

“fuck,” he curses out lowly, and takes that same hand that caressed your cheek to grab you wrist. he places your hand on his hardened cock. “feel it, can’t you see how excited you get me.” a small whimper leaves your mouth as you feel his cock. it’s been less than 5 minutes since he’s seen you yet he’s this hard.

looking back at him, he stares you down. his eyes lustful and hungry, like a predator looking down at his prey. the feeling didn’t scare you though, it fired you up.

“open that pretty mouth for me,” he says, voice low but commanding. without any hesitation you complied. “stick your tongue out,” he continues, while working his hands on his pants. it didn’t take long before he freed his cock from its confinements.

taking his cock around his hand, while the other slowly pushes your head closer to his cock. you notice the small amounts of pre-cum already starting to come out. your lips touch his tip where you begin to peck around it and on top of it.

“i told you to open your mouth y/n,” his voice still low and commanding. opening your mouth back up, he pushes his cock inside your mouth. slowly and steady until it was finally snug inside your mouth. you tried your hardest to keep breathing, as he was still too hard to take in.

he didn’t move, causing you to look up at him. mark’s eyes are still looking down at you. it’s a sight for sore eyes, mark thought. the way you took his cock in your mouth like the good girl you are, fuck.

he couldn’t take it any more, so he decided to take the lead. he fisted your hair into his hand to begin bobbing your head on his cock. fucking his cock into your mouth roughly, your eyes began to water, and incoherent noises fell from your mouth as drool escaped your lips.

in the past you would’ve done all the work, gone at your pace but you both knew there was no patience in not only mark, but you as well to go on the slow side of things today. you both craved one another, desired one another.

“your mouth is too perfect, fuck, i could cum any second now,” mark groans. the room filled with both your noises and the wet sounds of your mouth and his cock. your panties feeling getting wetter the more you feel his cock deepthroating you.

your hands crept to his thighs, holding onto them as you began bobbing your head. another groan leaves his mouth when he notices what you’re doing. your tongue runs along his shaft, licking him for all he’s worth. and it was your tongue that ultimately pushed him to the edge, coming into your mouth, coating you white.

you let out a muffled moan when you felt the warmness inside your mouth. taking his cock finally out of your mouth, you notice it’s still semi-hard. you look back up at mark as he watches you swallow his cum. his face slightly twitches at the action.

“face down, ass up,” he later says once he feels as though you're ready to take more. getting on your knees, arching your back as your ass sticks up, you wait for the man. you feel his fingers ghost your legs, leaving a burning trail. they reach your ass where he fondles the flesh, giving a light slap which causes you to whimper.

a faint chuckle leaves his lips at your action. continuing his journey he hooks his fingers onto your laced black thong, dragging it down. “this wet already?” he questions as he drags his fingers onto your slit. he teasingly plays with your pussy, taking his time exploring.

“p-please,” you beg.

“please what babe?”

“please, use your fingers,” you replied.

however, mark’s teasing didn’t stop. “where should i use my fingers?” he continued to ask.

you felt your face heat up in embarrassment, “i-in my pussy…”

mark didn’t respond, he just chuckled before he intruded two fingers into you. he pumped his fingers in you ruthlessly, whilst taking his thumb to rub against your clit. both simulations knocked you over the edge, moans spilled from you every second. the way mark curled and scissored his fingers into your brought you closer to the edge.

he felt your walls clench around his fingers, “gonna cum already babe?”

“y-yes,” you yelled out, too fucked out to even keep quiet. all you heard was mark humming before you felt his fingers dive deeper, reaching your g-spot and thumb rubbing your clit faster. that became the final blow before you came crashing down as your orgasm washed over you.

mark’s hand and your thighs coated in your juices, but that didn’t stop your boyfriend from continuing to fuck his fingers in you. he helped you override your orgasm, however it only resulted in more washing over you. it wasn’t until he placed a kiss on your ass that he finally pulled his fingers out.

mark wasted no time, licking his fingers, licking your sweet juices into his mouth. you’re the best meal he’s ever tasted.

still a bit hazy, you failed to hear the tear of the condom mark was getting ready to use. putting it on his cock, he scoots closer to you, the bed slightly dipping. one hand grips your hips while the other drags his cock inside you. he watches as your pussy swallows him. he feels as your walls clench around him.

“you feel so hot,” he says, diving down to kiss your back. you both stay like that for a while, until his lips reach your nape. he sucks on an exposed side of your neck, marking you up. his lips reach your ear where he whispers, “ready?”

you tilt your head, lips nearly touching. “yes,” you whisper back. his lips smash into your, his tongue making its way in as well. he could still faintly taste himself in your mouth. he loved kissing you, feeling your perfect, soft lips on his. how could he ever let you go? if there was one thing about mark it was that he just couldn’t fathom seeming you with another man. the thought enraged him.

departing from the kiss, he drags his cock out before pounding it back in. he continues repeating this action, holding you by your hips as he harshly thrusts. his tip hitting your womb, hitting that spot that drives you insane.

“fuck, such a perfect pussy. molded right for me,” mark groans. you moan back an incoherent response, throwing your ass back at him. he stops his thrusting, letting you do the work. the lewd sounds of your wetness and ass hitting him echoed in the room. he watches his cock disappear and then reappear from your pussy, the sight was such a blessing.

your tears stained the sheets and your moans muffled as your face was faced down on the bed. you couldn’t take it no more, you wanted to cum. so you discreetly try to drag your hand down to your clit.

“tsk, so needy my love,” mark says, pounding back into you, causing you to move forward. you clench the sheets as mark began fucking back into you ruthlessly. the pace far more better than before, reaching you even deeper. his drags two fingers down to your clit, pinching and rubbing the poor bud until he felt you were near.

“cum on my cock, let me feel you.”

his words were like a spell, as you soon came crashing down once more. clenching tightly around his cock as you came. the action triggering mark’s own climax. he came inside the condom, his cock twitching inside you.

his grip on your hips loosened, causing you to flump down. you were too tired, too fucked, but still desired more.

mark discards of the condom, grabbing another one as he slips it onto his cock once more. “come here babe, i know you ain’t satisfied yet,” he says, breathless. gathering the little energy you had left you crawl to him where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“sit on it,” he says and you follow. your back against his chest, sinking onto his cock. you whimper at the familiar stretch. wasting no time, you begin bouncing on his cock. the position allows for him to reach you deeply, fully in you. you glance down, noting the bulge in your stomach. the sight caused you to clench tightly around him, mark’s arms slithered around your body. “you love my cock don’t ya?” he grits.

you nod your head as you chant “yes” like it’s your only vocabulary. you didn’t know when but mark had removed your bra, his hands fondling your tits while he placed open mouthed kisses along your shoulders and neck. you feel his fingers pinch your nipples, flicking the bud.

moving his hands to your hips, he helps you when he begins to feel your pace falter. “it’s alright, i got you,” he whispers in your ear. the thrusting speeds up, and it wasn’t long before you both came again, together.

it was short, but intimate. you both tired out, slumping on the bed as you quickly lose consciousness. drifting off to a deep slumber, not feeling as mark cleaned you up, dressed you properly, and tugged you back into bed.

nevertheless you could still feel the warmth of mark’s body as he tugged you closer to him, engulfed you. and the sweet little nothings and the i love you’s he whispered didn’t go unheard. both of you secretly looking forward to what the future brought for the two of you.

2024. 09. 01

final a.n: i apologize if this became rather shitty, it's almost 3 am & i'm tired, but i really wanted to get this up for ya'll nonetheless!

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makeyoumine69 · 7 months ago

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i would love to see more jealous patrick ❤️😫

Hello, dear anon!💗

Ohhh, jealous Patrick is a thing!

In the middle of dinner with Bateman's family in Dorsia, the reservation Patrick had been trying to get all week, you needed a moment to powder your nose. On your way back to your table, you were playing with the ring Patrick had gifted you a week ago—a huge gem shone on it whenever you rolled it between your fingers—but when you were distracted by the waiter, you accidentally dropped the ring, and if the stranger hadn't caught it, it would have rolled across the floor to God only knew where.

"Oh, thank you so much!" You beamed and smiled as the unfamiliar but handsome man returned the ring.

"It's nothing, really." He replied, examining you curiously from head to toe.

Such attention made you embarrassed, but then you felt a burning sensation between your shoulders. When you turned around, you locked your confused gaze with Bateman's, his hazel eyes piercing through yours like sharp daggers.

"Uh, thanks again! But I have to go!" With these words you walked away from the stranger before he could tell you something else.

Sheepishly you approached the table where Patrick, his parents and his brother Sean with his date were waiting for you. And even though Bateman's face was devoid of emotion, the moment you took your seat, his large palm found its way to your inner thigh in the blink of an eye.

"So, who was that guy?" He whispered in your ear, leaning closer so only you could hear. "And why was he touching you?"

You let out a shaky breath and smiled politely over Mrs. Bateman's comment that she was glad you were finally back. "What?" You asked bewilderedly without looking at the man next to you. "I just dropped my ring."

"You dropped the ring?" Patrick almost chuckled, his hand diving deeper between your legs under the table, forcing you to grab it to keep him from going any further. "Forgot how to wear a ring, sunshine?" The man took the opportunity to nip at your neck while everyone at the table was busy with each other. "When we get home, I'll remind you… I'll remind you of everything."

His skillful fingers reached beneath your skirt no matter how hard you tried to stop them. Now, they were brazenly playing with the lace of your panties and perfectly hiding beneath the soft material of your dress.

"Patrick," you gasped, gripping the table to stifle a moan as Bateman pressed his thumb against your blushing clit. "Please," your pathetic pleas only brought a broad grin to his smug face. "Stop."

And then Patrick's mother asked you a question you couldn't even hear as your whole body was focused on the rising tension in your lower abdomen as the man was relentless in his intentions to work you up.

"Excuse me…could you please repeat your question? You asked, completely awkward.

Patrick smirked arrogantly and leaned back in his chair. "She asked if you liked the food," he muttered mockingly, before shoving his two digits into your oozing pussy. "Believe me, Mother, she is enjoying the evening. Am I right, honey?"

Paralyzed, you were about to explode at how shamelessly Bateman was behaving, literally fingering you in front of his family. Biting your lower lip for a second, you tried to take a sip of mineral water, but the man wouldn't let you as he intensified his ministrations, curling his fingers to stimulate that spongy spot inside you that made you grip the surface of the table once again.

"Yes…everything is perfect," you managed to blurt out, sensing the cool metal of his Rolex gliding along your hot skin, the contrast only heightening the pleasure. "Thank you, Patrick."

"You're welcome, darling," the man chirped, leaning closer to peck your cheek in an affectionate, pretending way, only to purr into your ear. "Tonight I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't even remember your own name." And with that, Bateman sat back, looking cheeky as ever, as he felt your inner walls contracting around his fingers once he began to rub your little bud with his thumb.

Mrs. Bateman couldn't help but smile. "Oh, you two are so adorable! Such a loving couple."

With a soft chuckle, Patrick grinned in pure delight. "Thank you. We really are."

Bastard.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #answered asks #asks are always welcome

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hyunjinsjeans · 5 months ago

Text

He knows (Chan ver.)

Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Chan is your husband and he knows you want to start a family, but how does he know? And what happens when he tells you he knows? This. This is what happens.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 1140

AN: this is my first piece of writing for anything K-pop-related on this site, please be kind! No proofreading, sorry!

You are married to this man. He defines himself by his job. He lived for it though, after working so hard to get to where he is he also enjoys it so much. So you can’t complain. But he does have one more thing he wants on his instagram bio. So far he is producer, singer, rapper and dancer. As of a year ago he is also husband. He knows the time is right. He knows you don’t want to pressure him but whenever you’re together he can sense the unspoken words flying around in the air between the two of you.

Oh yes, Chan knows. He knows how to read people, and you are top of the list of his favorite ones. He will read you like a book. He will understand even the things you don’t say, he will know the second you are ready. He will, however, wait for the right moment. Sometime when he knows he will have the energy, the free time and the emotional availability to do it.

He owes you his full attention if you are doing this together.

And once he seizes the opportunity he is going in for the kill. He proposes it in a serious tone. If it asn’t just the two of you, it would seem you were having a “family meeting”. He is straightforward about it.

“We should have a kid, Y/N. I think it’s time, I’m ready and you’re ready.”

And the words get caught in your throat because what the hell? You were incredibly ready. He knew this, you knew this. Your friends probably knew this.

From the way you cooed at any and every child under 5 whenever you spotted one, how little kids gravitated toward you at the park or at the movies and you always had a kind smile to offer them along with the helping hand finding their parents, to the way you seemed to constantly be handed strangers' babies at the grocery store or at airport lines.

It was no news. You always loved kids and after getting married and moving to your own home, you made it a point to have a guest room and an empty room. Chan had noticed. Why leave a room completely empty? “Just in case we need it someday” you had shrugged when he asked. But it was painfully obvious a few months into the move that you visited that room and stared at the empty walls with bright shiny eyes, with a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips in a way so subtle it was almost imperceptible, you always left the room with a sigh and a bowed head as if ashamed to have the plans you had for that room. Chan had witnessed it enough times to have you figured out. It brought a warmth to his heart, seeing how eager you were about the subject and yet you kept quiet because you didn't want to put any pressure on him, thinking he already had a lot to deal with as the leader of a very successful group.

So of course, the second he said those words you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh I was waiting for you to be ready!”

Chan lets out a joyful laugh, his eyes become tiny as his cheeks grow puffy with the glee in his reaction.

“I know!” He exhales, “but you didn’t say anything and I’m tired of it. When you want something -anything, please just tell me!” His expression softened "I'll always have time to listen to you, and there's nothing you can ask of me that I wouldn't give you."

He is leaning on the kitchen table while you’re sitting opposite him. You push yourself back on your chair and look at him with a side smile on your face, the rice cooker making its beeping sound to signal dinner is ready.

“How am I supposed to drop that one on you?!” You laugh as well, it’s clear you are not really arguing “Am I supposed to say “hey Chan, I want a baby” or what?”

“Well… yeah.” He scratches at his neck, “that’s okay, it’s a good way to start talking about it.”

You huff and look away, but ultimately you are pretty happy he brought it up. He knows this as well; there is no hiding your enthusiasm, you're practically buzzing.

“I do want to have a baby, Chan” you lean forward on the table, your elbows on the hard surface while you hide your smile behind your hands.

Chan sighs, stilling his laughter as he pulls the chair back to take a seat and stare at you. He poses his arms and hands the same as yours, mirroring your actions.

“I want that too”, he mumbles, shy but true.

“Can we have that?” You wonder, your eyes falling on his hands, soft yet strong.

Chan has held you many times, and supported you through different times. You know he can be a perfect constant to hold on to, but you wonder if his career can take this. If he can be there for you for this. Because if you are honest, your biggest fear is that he will put too much pressure on himself if he tries to be a leader and a good partner to a pregnant wife at the same time. You have always known him to be the kind of guy to step up without anyone asking him to. You have learned from him to be the same, to grow stronger for Chan to have someone to support him as well...but this time you have to be realistic, how much can you share the weight of things once you are also worried about the safety of a baby? How much stress can you take from him while getting ready to have a kid.

He drops his hands on the table, you have moved your gaze from his eyes to his hands to the table. You are doubtful, you are pulling away from him as you speak.

“We can.” He assures you, reaching out to pull your hands in his. “We can do this.”

Chan brings you back with his words, his tone is honest and bright. His eyes are full of joy and excitement.

You feel the warmth of his skin on your skin and look up with hope, your trust in him is so complete you nod, you don’t even think about it as you reply. You would die for your husband. You would take all the pain, all the responsibility, and hardships for him. And so would he for you. This is why doubting what you two can accomplish together is ridiculous, you shake your head from all those doubts and squeeze his hands between your own.

“Let’s do this.” You whisper.

--------

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #skz imagines #skz x you #skz x reader #skz x y/n #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #female reader

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starboye · 6 months ago

Text

pairing: steve rogers x male reader

request: Captain America falls in love with his fellow big bubble butt Twunk male reader avenger. Steve asked him on a date which leads to Steve and male reader losing their virginity on the first date; which eventually has them both in a long term married life full of happiness, love, and hot steamy sex with the super soldier with his big hung 🍆 and a twunk with the big 🍑.

warnings: smut, both of you are virgins, cursing, and fluff

a/n: idk how I feel about this one, it feels a lil iffy

you had just gotten back from your most recent mission where you had to stop some robbers from getting away with some stolen bank money with steve and lets just say it wasn't the easiest thing ever as it seemed like steve was occupied thinking on something else "hey what was that out there you seemed preoccupied" you say playfully nudging him "oh it was nothing just thinking" he stammers trying to avoid eye contact with you "well leave the thinking for off the field" you chuckle "yeah" he smiles.

just before you get out the door steve calls out "hey y/n would you wanna go out to dinner sometimes" he asks nervously "are you asking me on a date rogers" you ask with a grin "yeah i guess i a-" he says before getting cut off by the feeling of you kissing his cheek "well than its a date" you say smiling before walking away as steve stands there as his heart is pounding so hard it feels like it gonna burst out his chest.

you meet steve at a fancy restaurant and you guys find a table "I just wanna say you look amazing" he says "well thank you I'd say you look rather dashing yourself" you chuckle "thanks" steve says, you order your food and it soon comes out "wow this looks amazing, how did you even manage to book a place like this I heard they always have a full house" you inquire "compliments to tony he pulled a couple of strings" he says "I'll be sure to say thanks".

after finishing dinner you both walk down the street talking about the latest drama in the avengers compound "hey do you wanna go back to my place" you ask him "y- yeah I would love to" steve stammers at the sudden question before you grab steves hand and playfully run to your apartment, when you get to your apartment you show a nervous steve around.

"sorry it's a little messy I haven't been here in a while" you laugh throwing away done trash that was on your counter and kicking some clothes out the way "oh dont worry my place doesn't look any better" he says looking for some place to sit "oh yeah you can sit on the couch" you say moving some junk off the couch before sitting down on it with steve.

"I really enjoyed tonight" steve says with the biggest smile on his face "I did too" you say admiring steve, after a few seconds of silence steve leans in and kisses you before jumping back just as quickly "I'm sorry I didn't mean too do that" he tries to quickly apologize "don't be sorry I liked it" you say moving onto steves lap and kissing him deeper than before, his hands move to you back holding it firmly.

"should we" you trail off "I'm okay with it if you are" steve says with a bigger smile than before him now about to sleep with his first and best of all his crush "I am" you say taking your shirt off leaving your torso exposed for steve, he feels up and down your body watching how your nipples perk up with each light touch from his digits "you okay there big boy" you chuckle "y-yeah just new to this whole thing" steve says still amazed by your body.

"don't worry it's my first time too" you reassure "really" steve says, on the outside he seemed calm but on the inside he was freaking out at the feeling knowing he was gonna be your first and you were gonna be his first "you wanna take this off" you ask tugging at the hem of his shirt, he quickly obliges and takes off his shirt his broad body now on full display for you.

you run your fingers along his chest, tracing random shapes and admiring his figure "you wanna maybe do it" steve nervously asks "id be happy to" you say getting up and putting on a mini show for steve, stripping off your pants and underwear in an erotic way, you watch as steve follows every one of your movements with his eyes his cock now begging to be let out of its confines.

"how about we get these off of you" you say pulling steves pants off and watching his dick jump out and stand up straight resembling the american flag "I didn't expect you to have a dick like this" you say stunned by the mans large dick "well the super soldier serum enhanced some other things to" steve chuckles "well either way it still looks delicious" you say licking his tip slowly watching him shudder under your touch.

"how are you so good at that" steve asks trying to avoid your seductive gaze "I don't know maybe I just learned it" you say licking his slit, "I bet your bussy feels better" steve says choking down a moan "what" you say holding back a laugh "what" he says innocently "did you just say bussy" you ask almost laughing "what I heard it off porn" he says shrugging his shoulders "yeah you're in desperate need of some hole it seems" you say straddling his bare lap.

steves breath hitches in his throat at the bare feeling "can I kiss you" steve asks trying to control his breathing "you don't have to ask me steve" you say pulling him into a kiss "I wanna feel you" steve begs "okay okay" you chuckle before smearing some saliva on his dick "okay three, two, one" you cut down before sinking onto his dick slowly with a moan.

steves hands quickly find their way to your hips and tightly hold them in place, you sit there for a couple seconds and get used to his large size before looking at him with a "are you okay" look and he replies with a nod, you lift up and sink back down in a rhythm with steve groaning at each move, "I feel like I'm gonna cum already" he says with tightly shut eyes before throwing his head back.

"me too" you moan, your moan brings steves head back up to watch you moan all over him, a dream he's jerked off to multiple times in one day "never did I think id have this chance with you" steve scoffs "well here I am now" you kiss steve before moaning into his mouth as you sink down again "fuck" you huff before cumming all over steves stomach him watching in full awe.

"nghhh" he moans next as he cums in you, his teeth tightened together and eyes shut as his hips erratically thrust upwards trying to ride out his high, after a few more seconds steve finishes and lets out a long breathy huff "fuck that was good" you say dropping your head on his shoulder "sorry for cumming so fast" steve sweetly apologizes "you're good you felt to good" you say "well thank you" he smiles.

it may have only been the first date but steve already wanted to marry you he thought of this so hard he didn't even realize he was staring at you "earth to steve, you okay" you ask with a chuckle "yeah just thinking" he reassures with a smile "you sure do think a lot" you say laying your head back down on his chest "you have no idea" Steve says.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x male reader #captain america #x male smut #x male reader #gay smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

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miumura · 6 months ago

Text

💭 — GUNWOOK AS YOUR BOYFRIEND !

how it’s like having gunwook as your boyfriend !

pairing bf!gunwook x gn!reader genre fluff

💬 : finally a req done after so long .. why am i nervy posting this LMAO and it might just be me but this feels rather short compared to my other hcs .. idk maybe its bc i havent done these “… as ur bf” in a while HELP but anyways thank you soso much for requesting anons ! i hope you enjoy 🫶

— the type to be first to make a sudden flirty move just to get a reaction out of you. i think he would enjoy seeing you flustered just by the sudden gestures he’d make. but, once it’s reciprocated back, he is so definitely backing down and giggling at you he’s going to be thinking about it the whole day

— ^ that being said, i feel like he’s the type to easily get embarrassed when trying to express his feelings for you. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that since he’s letting you see the soft / vulnerable side of him, he thinks that it could be much sometimes. but he tries to not let that bother him because he truly wants you to see that you’re loved and you deserve it!!

— i think he’s a big physical touch person so he would he clingy. doesn’t matter what you guys are doing or where you are, he’s definitely doing it subconsciously since he does it so much. and hugs are definitely his thing.

— back hugs would fluster him. he’s just so used to giving you bear bugs and just wrapping you with his arms. so, having your arms wrapped around his waist would be so sudden to him. even so, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy it 🫡

— the type to COMPLETELY get lost in your eyes and just start admiring the features on your face. probably would caress your cheek while giving you a soft smile LIEK 😣

— he would find your little habits or gestures to be cute, which causes him to copy you 💔 so don’t worry, he’s not mocking you, he just finds you rather endearing and has to express it in a loving way ^^

— he would stay up with you all night to talk about random things. i feel like after a long day, he would definitely go on a debrief session with you. like without a doubt you two would probably come up with something that gets both of you either heated or on the same page LMAO or it could be you two coming up or trying to solve theories about ANYTHING.

— would definitely love compliments from you ☝️ especially loves compliments about his physique as he does work hard to keep himself fit and also would get flustered by them but he would also appreciate you giving him compliments about things he’s rather insecure about and would always use that as a reminder for himself when he’s having doubts </3

— would be extremely attentive to what you’re saying and what you want. he would want to listen to everything you’re saying, even if you’re not directly talking to him. i feel like he would take note of things in any conversation (with or without him in it) and make notes of what you like or dislike

— the type to carry all your things without any complaints

— would be such a great person to facetime !! you would definitely stay up with him at night just laughing at your inside jokes or anything in particular that interests you both

— would love if you were to go to the gym or just be active with him (bonus if you could play sports with him) ! i feel like he would enjoy the company and would work out extra since he’s within your presence (you’re his motivator!!!)

— would have “i love you” “i love you more” etc etc battles LMAO and as a competitive person himself, he is definitely not letting you win <3

— honestly would admire you. if you’re someone special to him, he would definitely treasure everything about you and every moment spent with you. i just feel like he would be so supportive of everything you do and would definitely work his hardest to reciprocate back all the love you give him (and if possible, even more than that). like he truly would not mind taking time out of his day just to be with you and give you all the love you deserve!

💭 — everything leaves my body when it comes to gunwook

PERM ZB1 TAGLIST (OPEN) — @dwcljh @ilovewonyo @jiawji @tzyuki @kpoprhia @flamiricky @misokei @lluvjjun @zzzhoonie @margoteboo-blog @lakoya

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jojikawa · 1 year ago

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Sukuna’s Vessel, Yuuji Itadori.

Your time as Sukuna’s wife was a small blip in time. Something you nearly forgot until a pink-haired boy tries to talk to you

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness) if this does well I will make multiple parts.

masterlist

Art by icebuko

Was inspired by this scene from RWBY. dividers

You have already adjusted to your life in this world. It was hard to know if this is what you enjoyed or not but there was much less violence and a lot more excitement and love…You figured the mundane life suited you better. You became interested in the culture of Japan, you taught yourself its current traditions and you learned to be an elementary school teacher. No idea of why you were resurrected in this modern age came to your mind, but all you could do was live. Although, for years upon years, you felt like something was missing, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Just when that feeling was beginning to fade, you met a particular boy. You stood in the spring rain with your transparent umbrella, dressed in business casual as you helped your young, toddler students cross the busy street. Silently, you desperately tried to shield the babies from the harsh rain and cold air. The children scattered, going on their way back home using the routes you taught them so that they could be fast.

“Um, excuse me…?”

It was the boy you had seen before. He was young, probably a teenager. You noticed him stalking you for a bit now. What could he have wanted from you?

His hair was an unnatural color, maybe dyed. His uniform wasn’t anything like you had recognized and on his feet were painfully red shoes that hurt your eyes. Truly the sense of style for a young boy in this age fashion.

“Yes?” You turned around to look at the boy. He was visibly nervous but you tried to comfort him with a welcoming smile. As you examined him, you got a sense of familiarity.

“Are you….(y/n)?”

You blinked for a moment. Could this have been an older sibling of one of your students?

“I am.” You replied. “Is there…something you want to speak to me about?” You tilted your head and he became increasingly restless under your watchful eyes. “Can we talk in private?” The boy asked politely. You looked down at your watch. It seemed you had time before you needed to go home to prepare your lesson for the next day of teaching.

You humored the boy. The two of you walked to a nearby park where he told you his name and his occupation. He told you why he was going to school. If what he was told was true, you should already know about curses and sorcerers. He also asked you questions.

Yuuji asked things like if you had a family, what you’ve been doing with your time, etc. But then he asked who you were and if you loved anyone.

You found it rather inappropriate that someone so young and strange to you was asking about your personal life.

Now, the two of you sat on the bench. The rain eased to a drizzle and you began to enjoy the little time you had left with the boy. “Why does who I may love matter to a boy like you? You should be into girls your own age.” You joked, closing your umbrella and leaning it against the edge of your wooden seat. Yuuji blushed at your comment and raised his hands before shouting. “N-No, it’s not like that! I was asking f-for a friend!”

“A friend?” You repeated, raising your eyebrow slightly. You couldn’t recall anyone who wouldn’t be interested in you. “Well, I need to get going.” You told him. “Dinner’s calling me and I have to grade my student’s tests.” You smiled kindly, beginning to stand before the boy suddenly stopped you. He grabbed the sleeve of your attire before uttering:

“Are you really the wife of Ryomen Sukuna?”

Your mouth opened to speak. You felt the world stop and it was like you couldn’t feel the rain on your skin anymore. That was a name you haven’t heard forever.

“Who told you that name?” Your ability to make Yuuji feel calm was soon diminishing. Yuuji didn’t reply at first. His eyes darted from you and often looked to the right as if he were in thought. He would hold his head but never made an effort to mention why he was behaving so erratically.

“I guess that means you are her.”

Your face eased. “So, I assume that you have revealed yourself to me because you plan to kill me like what happened hundreds of years ago or so?” You tilted your head before giving him a closed-eyed smile. “Huh?? Oh, N-No, of course not. My sensei doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Then…who sent you?” You sat back down by Yuuji. The boy didn’t answer you. His gaze broke from yours. “Yeah, Yeah, I’m getting to that!” He muttered but rather loudly. The boy didn’t seem to be talking to you.

He then turned his full attention to you again. “How did you meet Sukuna?” His question was innocent but it held unimaginable weight. “First,” You raised a finger. “How do you know that name?”

Yuuji shoved his hands into his pockets. “School.” He lied…half lied.

“They’re teaching you about him at your school…? Gods…” You sighed softly. “I knew Sukuna a long time ago but my story goes beyond him. I’m much older than him, you see.” You looked down at your black pumps. It was expected of you to wear this for your job. You suddenly felt the pressure of walking in them all day and kicked them off just a bit.

“Older?”

You nodded. “I was actually the first woman. I was the first wife of Adam. You know who that is?” You broke your gaze with the ground to see that the boy was staring at you rather intently. Was he even listening? He wasn’t even blinking. “Yuuji.” You called, ripping him from his daydream.

“H-Huh? Oh, Adam? Um…” He thought for a moment before shaking his head. You smiled. “It’s okay if you don’t. It’s more of a Western tale…” Your manicured nails dug into the soft wooden chair. “Adam was a jerk.” The frown you held was small but behind it was an anger that only the Gods could fathom.

The boy’s ears perked up. “Oh, like Adam and Eve! You’re Eve!” He looked as if he had hit the lottery with a guess that good. But…

You laughed again. “No. Eve came after me. She was the more obedient wife. I’m often erased from history.” Your posture eased and you leaned your back against the bench. “Ryomen Sukuna was the only man that ever loved me. And that I loved back.” Your heart rate quickened thinking of your lover. “You humans know him as a horrible threat…which is true.”

“But I was a horrible person too. We were horrible together…my Ryomen.” You said his name so breathlessly. It was so long ago but you replayed your favorite moments with him. There was no harm in talking about Sukuna, right? He was long gone so this boy’s superiors couldn’t have been targeting you for any reason. You enjoyed pretending to be a human. This wouldn’t be a problem, right?

Yuuji didn’t say a word. He hid his eyes from you, sinking further into his jacket. Without saying much of anything, you effortlessly humanized Sukuna. It didn’t make the boy feel any less hostile toward the King of Curses but it did give him insight into what kind of person he was. He had a soft spot for at least one person. Without warning, he sat up straight. “Um…would you say you still loved him?”

Normally, you would be put off by such a question, but you were already deep in this conversation. Your eyes wandered to the people entering the park here and there. They pushed their kids in strollers and walked their dogs. The sound of the cars driving behind you was painstakingly loud as you tried to think of the past. You answered. “Yes, I do.”

Suddenly, Yuuji erupted with activity. The way he pulled his hood over his head and turned away concerned you. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” You leaned over going to rest a hand on your shoulder when you heard muffled speaking. “Yuuji—”

“I-It’s nothing! ‘Just cold, sorry!” He blurted out, causing you to recoil back. “I see…” You replied, going back into your place. “I wonder what ever happened to Ryomen.” You looked down at your watch. It was time for you to go now.

“I know where Sukuna is.”

“What?” The corner of your mouth instinctively raised into a smirk but your eyes were wide as saucers. “I didn’t peg you as a prankster but I suppose I should’ve expected it.” Your tenseness eased, before shutting your eyes and laughing to yourself. Sukuna? Here? No, that surely wasn’t true. The world would be in ruin if he were.

“I’m serious!” Yuuji then proceeded to explain to you his unique situation that involved him swallowing your lover’s fingers and, in turn, bonding them together. You still didn’t know what to believe. It almost made you angry…you somehow felt that perhaps, sorcerers were watching you, waiting to see if you’d break your masquerade as a human if they convinced you that he was alive.

You clenched the handle of your umbrella as it lay beside you. “If Sukuna is really inside of your body, then let me speak to him.” You were….half serious. You wanted so badly to just hear his voice again, even if he were saying something vulgar or pure evil. Or to know if this was all just a trick. Yuuji rubbed the nape of his neck. “I can’t really do that. Not in public, he might—”

“He won’t.” You interrupted. “I’ll make sure he won’t.”

Yuuji had no choice but to trust you. For the last day, he’s had Sukuna yelling at him so loudly and often that he wasn’t able to tune it out like always. For a moment, Yuuji stopped resisting Sukuna’s pull on him, allowing the curse to take over his body. There was a familiar set of markings that appeared on his body and face. The amount of joy, confusion, and concern that filled your body was undeniable.

Although your Ryomen Sukuna was in front of you, trapped inside the body of a boy, you felt like it was a trick. Maybe it wasn’t sorcerers casting a spell on your mind. Perhaps it was God punishing you one last time or it was Adam trying to take one last jab at you before you experienced true death.

Once you laid eyes upon Sukuna, it still looked as if Yuuji still had control. His eyes were like that of a dear in headlights while his face was full of admiration.

“Ryomen?” You called his name, causing the vessel he was in to flinch. His eyes then turned serpent-like. They were eyes you knew very well.

“It seems as though you have been resurrected.” He rested his head on his palm, those same eyes wandering your body, staring shamelessly at your chest area and thighs. “But you can never be too sure. How do I know you’re real?” He fidgeted more in his seat—more than Yuuji actually. He tapped his foot on the ground, drummed his fingers on his leg, and even sank his nails into his jawline out of anticipation.

The question caused you to blink. “You’re asking me if I’m real—?”

“Hurry. You have—” His gaze shifted downward for a brief moment before it went back to you. “—less than 60 seconds. If you can’t answer me, I’ll kill you and be done with it. Tell me what I said to you the first time we met. Only I and the real (y/n) know of this.”

Your mouth curled into a pleasant smile. You turned your hips towards him. “I’m not scared of a little monster like you.” You locked eyes with him. “When I met Ryomen, the first words to me were ‘You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’ And I said, ‘I think the Gods would disagree.’ He laughed in a way I would never forget before telling me: ‘Give me a son and I’ll give you the world.’”

Sukuna was unmoving. His antics completely stopped and he listened. So silent…it was unlike him. You continued.

“I was devastated when he asked that of me. I said ‘I can not have a child. My womb is corrupt.’ And so he vowed to make—”

“Shit, it really is you.” The words pour out of his mouth like a waterfall. “It’s been so long. I thought I would never see you again. What are you doing living a mundane life with mortal scum?!” He cursed and threw out his insults, not even caring about the poor humans who walked by and were forced to listen to him. You smiled attractively. “I kinda like this ‘scum’” You replied, mimicking his voice so well you sounded like a female version of him.

“What happened to your body? Why are you burrowed away inside of a child?” Your head tilted with curiosity. His vessel was much smaller than his original although, it was nice seeing what he’d be like as more of a man human and less of a monster.

Sukuna parroted the same thing Yuuji did, confirming the truth. The boy ate his finger.

“…but once I return to full power, I’ll make the Gods pay for what they did to you.” He wanted nothing more than to just reach out and touch you. It’s been so long since he’s seen you…

…since he’s heard your voice.

Hundreds and hundreds of years of his consciousness lingered beyond his execution and his only thought was you. Even then, aspects of you had faded in his memory. Where were your horns and claws? Did you even have either of those? You had a sword too? No? Oh, he couldn’t remember but one thing that did stick with him was your presence. Sukuna could track you like a bloodhound and find you at every corner of the earth.

“The Gods wouldn’t care about you, Ryo.” A dry laugh left your lips at his awestruck face. “They don’t even care about me…but, my ex-husband Adam—will return. You’ll be good to me and kill him, right?” Your sweet smile turned into a smirk, your eyes turned warm and filled with lust. Sukuna picked up on your subtle cues, his mouth going from slightly agape to a twisted, toothy grin. “I’ll bring you his head, I swear!”

“Hm.” Your eyes lit up with enthusiasm. You couldn’t help but rest your palm on his cheek. Yuuji’s skin was much smoother and softer than Sukuna’s monstrous features. “…and if you objectify me again, I’ll obliterate you.” Your manicured nails grazed his skin, threatening to pierce the vessel at any moment.

Sukuna was confused—not afraid. He hasn’t wronged you so why are you threatening him? It was then that he noticed your eyes. They glowed red.

That’s right, you were rather observant. His hungry eyes were already sexualizing in every way possible.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sukuna replied, his wide demonic grin returning to his soft features. “But ya know, if you want, you can have me right now.”

Your eyes softened before you exhaled. “In that body?” You chuckled. “Maybe when it matures a little.” Your words made his smile fade and his nose scrunch up in disgust. “Who cares how old this vessel is?! It’s ME!”

“And you’re a bit short for my liking.” You fake pouted before letting go of his face. Upon instinct, he rubbed the claw markings you left behind. “I’m still taller than your small ass. You women are so picky with your size kinks.” he spat, rolling his eyes. “Next, you’ll ask me to put the world in your hands. And what do you bring to the table, huh?”

“Myself.” You replied before placing an innocent kiss on his cheek.

“Then, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stick around.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #Sukuna x demon reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff

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gothcsz · 1 month ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Spanish is good but not that good.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello? Are you still there?”

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

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

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

“¿Quién fue?” (Who was it?)

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“You don’t see how strange this is?”

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

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

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

“I know that—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

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

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

He looks like he’s been through hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s here?”

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

Javier swears he’s never sobered up so fast.

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

“Couldn’t leave him at home?”

“Excuse me?” Your brows shoot up.

“I don’t need an audience for this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mateo made his feelings about him abundantly clear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Mateo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least you’re acknowledging that he exists again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His jaw twitches. “Cariño, por favor—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You should have listened to him.

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

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

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

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

His calmness is almost off putting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all happened so fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there’s Javier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you do. And it breaks him.

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

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

Every mark on your face feels like a personal attack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you mean that?”

“With all my fuckin’ heart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, that’s enough.

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