#oh boy it's been a while since i used that tag lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chosslut · 1 month ago

Text

NeedyChoso x fem! reader

Tags: smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, mentions of p in v, masturbation (male), a very horny, needy Choso, pussydrunk Choso, like he's DOWN BAD, very slight College AU, pet names, swearing.

MNDI!!

W/C. 3.1k

A/N. Uhhh this is my first fic I'm posting... kinda nervous tbh but my brain's been brimming with steaming HOT Choso brainrot since July... have to get it out somehow I guess lol

------

You were sitting on the couch, your eyebrows lightly furrowed in concentration as you tried to get some reading done for your philosophy class, Choso lying stretched out with his legs in your lap. He’d called you wanting to come over, begging and promising that he wouldn’t distract you when you said you really needed to get some work done. In all honesty, you really couldn’t say no to him, especially when you imagined his sad, pouty face on the other end of the line. The two of you had been inseparable even before you started dating, and now that you were, Choso was even more clingy and affectionate, something you were more than okay with.

So, as you sit on the couch, Choso’s laying down, his head resting on the armrest with his legs stretched out in your lap. So far, he’d lived up to his promise, quietly hanging out on the couch with you as you read, taking breaks from playing on his switch to observe you, admiring how adorable and serious you looked; your eyebrows knit together in concentration, your lips slightly pursed, you finger fiddling with the page of your book. He’d been so good and so patient, but his resolve was wearing thin, especially when you looked so cute wearing an oversized t-shirt and some sleep shorts that displayed your thick, plush thighs that he loved so much. He wanted more than anything to squeeze and knead them, oh the sounds you made when he did, then kiss and lick his way up to your- He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the naughty thoughts in his head in an attempt to delay the emergence of his impending boner, but it was no use. If you hadn’t been busy, you would’ve easily noticed his boner, especially with the position he was laying in, but he had time to sit up and scoot next to you, a relatively less conspicuous position for his boner.

Noticing his sudden movement in the corner of your eye, you lift your eyes off your book to look over at him, a curious look on your face.

“You holding in there, Cho?” you smile softly at him, his patience not going past you unnoticed, as he’s usually one to talk your ear off or draw your attention.

“Uh, yeah, doing good,” Choso says nonchalantly, as if there wasn’t a war going on in his mind between wanting to be good for you and acting on his lustful thoughts. Chalking up his behavior to him just being fidgety, you didn’t think anymore of it, squeezing his hand lightly and giving him a kiss on the cheek before returning your attention to your book. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart and his aching dick, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder, but oh boy was that a mistake. This close, he could smell you so vividly; the lingering scent of the products you used on your hair, your subtle perfume, even the detergent of your clothes combined to create the scent of you, and it made his dick so much harder. The smell of your hair reminded him of the first time you’d asked him to be rough with you; he was fucking you from behind while you moaned and babbled in ecstasy, letting out the most seraphic gasp when he entangled his hands in your hair, yanking your head backwards to look at him while he fucked you. Swallowing thickly, he observed the way you had your feet rested on the edge of the coffee table so your legs were slightly bent, giving him the perfect view of the soft expanses of smooth skin on your thighs; even when you didn’t shave, they were still so soft. He knew he couldn’t disrupt you, after all, you both had ADHD and got distracted so easily, and you were concentrating so well, he didn’t want to ruin that.

He’d nearly made up his mind to go to the bathroom and jerk off his depraved thoughts so you could concentrate, when you fidgeted; probably trying to find a new comfortable position, before turning yourself towards him and swinging your legs to lay out in his lap, your back against the armrest of the couch. You not only prevented him from moving without you noticing, but your plush thighs were now in his lap, mere centimeters away from his throbbing erection. One move, one little shift, and you’d feel his arousal in all its glory. Not that he was ashamed or necessarily embarrassed about being found out because it wasn’t a new scenario for the two of you; you knew full well the effect you had on him, even when it was unintentional. Hell, he almost thought about waiting, letting you discover him bricked up, sitting pretty and patient for you, but his resolve was weakening with each second he stared, wide-eyed, at your gorgeous thighs, itching to touch you. Softly placing his hand on your thigh, just above the knee, he drew small circles with his thumb, noticing how you sighed softly at the comforting touch. The feeling of your soft skin beneath his palm was enough to completely snap any resolve that remained, giving in to slowly sliding his hand up your thigh, feeling the firm muscle of your quads give way to the plush, bouncy fat of your upper thigh.

Your breathing hitched subtly as he gently massaged your thigh, glancing down to his hand on your thigh before returning to your book, trying your hardest to focus on the book in front of you, but it was no use. You couldn’t help but glance back down, waves of heat already pooling between your thighs as you watch his large hands massage your thighs, calloused fingers digging gently into your skin.

“Cho…” you sigh shakily, meeting his gaze, his warm brown eyes dark and half-lidded, brimming with pleading desire. “I-it’s kinda hard to concentrate when you’re touching me like that…” you laugh breathlessly.

“M’s sorry, baby, I couldn't resist…” he groans, sliding his hand to the inside of your thighs, massaging the plump flesh of your thighs, fingers grazing over the hem of your shorts. “So fuckin’ soft…” he whispered, enamored with how your flesh bounced back when he squished it with his hand. Pulling your thigh towards him to spread your legs a bit, you gasp feeling your thigh rub his hard erection, a whimper escaping him from the friction.

“M’ sorry, I’ll stop if you want me to, I just missed you s’ bad” he sighed, his gaze needy and pleading to let him continue. It had been 2 weeks since you two had been intimate, largely due to the stress of work and impending finals. You’d be lying if you said you didn't miss his touch, in fact you were just as needy as he was, but the stress and anxiety of your finals loomed over your head like a wet blanket. Sensing something was on your mind, Choso brought his hands up to hold your face, “What's wrong, angel? I'm sorry, I understand if you're not in the mood-” he said with a worried expression before you cut him off.

“No it's not that,” you sigh, leaning into the warmth of his touch, Choso’s gaze softening as he caresses your face soothingly. “I’ve missed you too, I’ve just been so overwhelmed and stressed lately that I’ve been unconsciously overlooking my own needs…” you say softly, squeezing his arm gently. “And right now I really need you…” you whisper, your gaze flickering to his soft, pink lips, back up to his bedroom eyes.

“I know that feeling well, but you’ve been working so hard…” Choso sighs, his thumb coming down to run across your bottom lip, as he leans in. “You’ve been such a good girl…” his hand returns to massage the inside of your thigh, his fingertips ghosting over your heat through the thin fabric of your shorts, making you shudder. “And good girls deserve to have their pussy eaten out…” he whispers, his deep husky voice and hot breath on your face making your core throb. Dropping your book, you grabbed his shirt, smashing your lips into his in a needy kiss. Choso kisses you with equal intensity, moaning into the kiss as he places his arms on either side of you, pulling himself up so he’s hovering over you, his hand returning to torturously rub your core through your shorts, earning a small gasp from you.

“Can’t so much as look at my legs without craving my pussy, huh?” you tease him breathlessly, moaning as he slips your shorts to the side to tease around your clit through your soaked panties, a deep chuckle escaping his lips.

“It’s been too long, angel, I’m fucking starved for her” he whispers, his nose brushing yours as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, “think she missed me too, how she’s drooling so perfectly for me” he huffs, breaking the distance with a wet, needy kiss, moaning into your mouth as your tongues flick against each other. You buck your hips up at his teasing, before he finally relents, stroking your clit with his thumb, making your body jolt in sensitivity.

“Ngh, you gonna eat my pussy or not?” you tease, earning a small laugh from Choso.

“Someone’s impatient, just doing a little meal prep,” he smirks, relishing in your reactions; he loved how much of a brat you were when he was in charge, begging him to just touch you when he was getting you warmed up. You whining about being teased was ironic, considering how you lived to tease Choso in bed, ghosting your fingers over his rigid cock while he panted like a dog, then proceeding to edge him until he begged and cried for you to sit on his cock.

“Gotta get this pretty pussy nice and drenched, juice her for all she’s got,” he growled in your ear as he slipped your panties to the side, he gently brushed his fingers up and down your drenched folds, making sure to bump your clit with each pass, making you shiver and tense up.

“S-shit, pleaseee, Cho, need to feel you…” you whimpered pathetically, your pussy clenching around nothing each time his fingers ghosted over your hole, the anticipation killing you.

“Alright, baby, since you asked nicely,” he said, slowly slipping his middle finger into your drenched heat, curling up in a come-hither motion to caress your g-spot, just like you’d taught him.

“Ohhh, shitt” you moaned, spreading your legs further to encourage him, grinding your hips up in desperation.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet,” Choso moaned through gritted teeth. Your expression was driving him crazy, the way you looked at him, eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust, cheeks flushed, mouth hung open, made his cock twitch and leak in his pants. Desperate to pull out more of those pretty moans, he added his index finger, curling up faster into your cunt, filthy sounds of your pussy squelching mixing with your gasping moans. The sounds of your wet cunt made him spiral, his mouth watering at the thought of licking at your pretty pussy. Slowing down, he slipped his fingers out of your heat, making you whimper in disappointment, only to be mesmerized as he brought his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, licking your juices off them.

“Fuckk, need more, right now,” he growled at your taste, he grabbed the backs of your thighs, folding your legs up so he could slip your shorts and panties off. Slipping off the couch to kneel on the ground, he patted the cushion in front of him,“Come sit here, baby, and spread those pretty thighs for me” he instructed softly. Repositioning yourself in front of him, you pulled up your baggy t-shirt, exposing your plush, full tits, not bothering to wear a bra just to do homework. Choso cursed under his breath, gazing at you in complete awe at your beauty, “Never get used to how gorgeous you are, angel” he whispers as he leans forward to cup your face, kissing you sensually. You guide his hands up to grope your breasts, pulling your face away from him slowly, bathing in the comfort of his touch. He gently squeezes and kneads your plush tits, pinching your nipple as moans fall from your lips. He leans down to suck on your nipple, using his tongue to flick the sensitive bud, causing you to spread your legs wider as more wetness seeps into your core.

Separating from you with a wet pop, he grabs your hips, sliding you to the edge of the cushion so your ass hangs off a bit. He squeezes the plush of your ass before sliding his hands to delicately stroke your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh on the inside. The feeling of his hot breath fanning over your wet core driving you insane, whimpering needily as your cunt throbbed and clenched around nothing.

As if responding to your whines, leaned in to plant a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh, humming against your skin, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb to your other thigh. His eyes, stormy and clouded with desire, are glued to your face as he kisses up your thigh, licking and nibbling at the supple flesh, marking your skin. Whimpering as he lavishes your skin with delicate bruises, you card your fingers through his soft, raven locks, tugging softly to guide him to where you needed him the most.

“C-Cho, please…” you whined breathlessly, tugging harder on his hair, making him moan against your skin.

“Mmm, I know doll, being so patient,” he hums against the skin of your thigh, before inching to hover his mouth over your dripping cunt, softly kissing and licking the outside of your pussy lips in a way that caused a gush of arousal to drip from your core.

“Shit, so fuckin wet for me,” he moans, using his tongue to lick the trail of arousal dripping from your pussy down your taint, groaning at the taste. “You taste s’ fuckin good, angel,” he moaned into your cunt, pads of his fingers digging into your thighs as his tongue lapped at your wet folds, licking up your arousal like a starved man.

“Nghhh yess!” you moaned, grinding your hips up each time his nose bumped your clit. He circled his tongue around your entrance, teasing it, while he brought his thumb up to gently rub circles to your clit. “Oh god, don't stop!” you mewled feeling his calloused thumb stimulating your sensitive clit. To Choso, you were quite a sight to behold; looking down at him with your pretty face all scrunched up in ecstasy, your gorgeous body quivering under his touch, and most of all the heavenly sounds you made. Choso lived and breathed for how loud you were in bed, your heavenly sounds letting him know just how good he was making you feel, always praising him to the ends of the earth. That's to say that Choso was quite literally on cloud 9, and it's no understatement to say he could feast on your cunt for hours.

“C-Choso, wanna feel your f-fingers in me, please…” you begged, and he could feel your cunt pulsating with his tongue, craving to be filled.

“Fuck…” he groaned into your pussy, feeling your wet cunt pulsate, begging to be filled. “Want me to fuck you with my fingers, huh?” he growled, not waiting for a response before sliding a finger into your drenched core, flicking his tongue on your clit.

“Yesss!” you let out a high-pitched gasp, his long, thick finger curling inside you making you see stars, heat building in your stomach as you felt your orgasm approaching. Unable to ignore his dick leaking and throbbing in his pants, he reached his other hand down to palm himself through the fabric, whimpering at how sensitive he was. In fact, pleasuring you turned Choso on so much that he had cum in his pants untouched before just watching you come undone.

Unzipping his pants hastily, he took his dick out, stroking it softly as he slid another finger into your cunt. Desperate to cum with you, he curled his fingers into your cunt faster, his long thick fingers stretching your velvety walls while repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

“Ah, ah, ah!” you gasp, arching your back, rutting your hips desperately into his face, chasing your orgasm.“Shit, m’-m’ gonna cum,” you cry out, hips jolting as Choso moans into your clit as he fists his cock, sending vibrations through your core.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me, angel” he moaned, eyebrows furrowed together and eyes hazy with euphoria as he bareled towards his orgasm.

Your half-lidded eyes focused down on Choso, your eyes widened as you watched Choso pump his hard, leaky cock while his other hand furiously curled into your cunt, the lewd sight sending you over the edge, moaning and babbling as the knot in your core snapped, sending white-hot waves of euphoria through every nerve ending in your body.

“F- Ch-Cho!” you scream out his name as your body shakes, eyes rolling back, thighs clamping around Choso’s head as you cum on his mouth and fingers.

“F-fuck!” he moans out, hips stuttering as he cums, hot ropes of seed spilling onto his hand and the couch. Falling limp, you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm, softly petting Choso’s hair, his eyes fluttering open to meet your gaze.

“Shit, I missed that…” Choso laughs breathily, both of your faces flushed and red from arousal. “Almost forgot how pretty you look when you cum…”

Turning your head bashfully, you smile affectionately as you stroke his face that's now rested on your stomach. Realizing his fingers are still inside you, he pulls them out, reaching to bring them to his mouth when you grab his wrist.

“Hey, don't be so greedy, share” you say, feigning annoyance. Bringing his hand up to your mouth, you sensually lick your off his fingers, swirling your tongue around his fingertips. Eye transfixed on your mouth, he curses under his breath, mouth forming a small ‘o’.

“Goddamn…” he whispers, pulling himself up onto the couch to hover over you, replacing his fingers with his mouth, kissing you deeply. Parting your mouth, he slots his tongue against yours, groaning at the taste of your own arousal on your tongue.

Pulling away, panting softly, your eyes wander down to his still hard dick, still covered in his own cum.

“I missed this too…” you say adoringly, a small smile on your lips. “Hm, you made a big mess, didn't you baby?” you purred, licking down his jaw. “Wanna do that again, but inside me?”

P.S. Kinda love how this turned out ngl, might write a part 2 if this gets enough notes. I also have a virgin Choso fic in the works because whiney sub Cho is on my mind so much it basically writes itself lol.

#choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso jjk #choso fanfiction #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk au

246 notes · View notes

pasukiyo · 8 months ago

Note

Hey!! Idk if you are taking requests but can I ask for a Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff reader imagine where they are academic rivals and are fighting over a book in the library and Tom pins the reader to a bookshelf and it turns into something heated, the book long forgotten.

Bonus if when they have finished with their make out session, the reader sneakily grabs the book and leaves while childishly smirking at Tom who just stands there with a small smile.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you write it?

THE DISPLEASURE IS ALL MINE

tom riddle x f!hufflepuff!head girl!reader word count; 1,473 warnings; arousal mentioned lol summary; in all your years at hogwarts, you'd been competing against tom riddle. you were always at one another's throats, and today wasn't any different...

She blinked at the hand covering hers, her fingers curled around the leather spine of the book she’d been searching high and low for in the Hogwarts Library. With a wrinkle in her brow, her gaze trailed up the black sleeve of the hand’s robes until it reached the person’s chest, a shining, silver ‘Head Boy’ badge pinned above the Slytherin House crest.

The furrow in her brow deepened and her lips curved down into a frown at the realization of whose hand was atop of hers, eyes narrowed as she peered up into the dark gaze of Tom Riddle.

“Tom,” she deadpanned. “How unlovely it is to see you here.”

A corner of Tom Riddle full, pink lips curled into a sneer as he stepped in closer, fingers slithering over the back of her hand until they curled around the edge of the book she held a firm grip on.

“The displeasure is all mine,” Tom replied, glimpsing over to the Charms textbook they both held. “Forgive me for not wishing to stay for small talk,” he said, tugging the book forward and she fumbled to keep her grip on the spine, pushing it back into the wooden shelf.

“And forgive me, Tom, but I believe I had this book first,” she replied, anger already beginning to swell in her chest and bubble like magma at the pit of her throat. Tom already seemed to have this effect on her anyways, but why, why of all days did he have to have this book now, when she needed it so desperately?

Tom’s eyelids narrowed and her glare hardened right back in challenge— he must’ve somehow already known that she’d be needing this book. Oh, she wouldn’t put it past him— perhaps he’d eavesdropped in on the conversation she’d had with her fellow Hufflepuff, Clara Wingrave, earlier when she said she’d be spending her night studying for her Charms N.E.W.T. She had every intention of finishing off her seventh year at Hogwarts as top of her year— there was no way in hell she’d allow Tom to best her this time.

“I’m not so sure,” Tom straightened, his displeasure evident in the coal black of his eyes and she puffed out her chest, the ‘Head Girl’ badge above the Hufflepuff crest on her breast glistening even in the dimly-lit library. Tom’s eyes flickered there and oh— he was doing it again.

He’d always do this to her, always give her those eyes, that look like for a moment, he wanted her. He’d done it ever since they were fifth years when they’d both been named prefects and nearly toppled into one another trying to be the first ones into the prefect compartment on the train ride to Hogwarts. He’d done it every time they had debates in the middle of Transfiguration, every time they practiced charms in class, even when they had been assigned to a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He’d do it almost every chance he got, and this time certainly was no different. She knew he knew what he was doing and what was worse— sometimes, she feared it was working.

Tom was trying to weaken her, to expose a weakness within her and exploit it, use it against her. She’d admit that warmth would flood in pools at her cheeks when his gaze lingered on her lips a moment far too long, just as it did now. But when Tom’s own mouth began to curl into a smirk, she knew that she had had enough.

Years of competing against one another, of trying to outdo the other, of trying to prove her worth over his, of repressed tension, and outright frustration was beginning to prove to be rather exhausting. To say she’d had enough was the understatement of the century— so when her gaze flickered down to his lips and she could feel the tips of his fingers ghost over her knuckles where they still stayed splayed on the spine of the Charms book, she snapped.

She was like a rubber band pulled past its limit, the way she threw herself into Tom Riddle, the boy she loathed, or at least, spent all these years convincing herself she hated. Her lips were like a meteor crashing into his like he was the earth and Tom nearly recoiled from the surprise. With her hand not on the spine of the book, she grabbed a fistful of his robes, drawing herself in closer to him to deepen their kiss, her tongue swiping over his.

Her heart was pounding against the inside of her chest— what was she doing? What was she even thinking? Was she even thinking at all?

She didn’t know the answer. Her mind focused solely on Tom Riddle and his lips, his tongue pirouetting around hers once he’d gotten over the initial shock that she was, indeed, kissing him. One of his hands slithered around her waist, palm pressed against the small of her back, while the other cupped the side of her neck, drawing her in even closer. She hummed into his mouth as her hand not fisted in the chest of his robes snaked its way around his neck until her fingers reached his nape, ringlets of his perfectly-tamed dark hair woven between them.

For a moment, nothing mattered. For a moment, it was like there was no bad blood between them, nor had there ever been. She kissed Tom Riddle like she’d been pining for this for forever, like she’d been waiting for this moment since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if she always had, if there were a part of her that always dreamed she’d be given the opportunity to kiss him, to have him in such a way. She wondered if a part of her was giddy, while the other half of her wondered if she was just stupid.

Their lips broke for a moment so air could be ushered back into either of their lungs and her eyelids fluttered open to find that Tom was already staring down at her, gaze so dark, she wasn’t sure where his pupils began and his irises ended. A string of saliva bridged between their lips and she looked between it and back up at Tom, already hungry for more.

“You’re a lousy kisser,” she managed between breaths, attempting to rekindle at least some of the animosity between them, for normalcy’s sake. Tom’s eyes flickered back down to her mouth, eyeing the thread of saliva stringing their lips together. His head shook, head bowed as he leaned in closer.

“Be quiet,” he murmured before his lips were on hers again, using the hand he had on the side of her neck to push her up against the bookshelf, her hands darting for the elbows of his robes for balance.

His opposite hand palmed at the flesh of her hips through her own robes and she mewled into his mouth as their muscles wrestled against one another. Trying to overpower Tom was proven futile, and while for her dignity’s sake, she wanted to keep fighting, she couldn’t deny the pleasure she found in letting him take control, in letting him explore her mouth deeper, more freely. She could feel her core pulse with the ache of her growing arousal, feeling sweat begin to bead at her hairline from her face’s heat.

Merlin, what was she doing?

This was a boy she hated, a boy she’d been competing against for years now and here she was, snogging him in the library where anyone could catch them any moment now.

And she had N.E.W.T.s to study for.

She peeled her eyelids open, thankful Tom’s were closed as she removed her hand from one of his elbows, eyeing the Charms book from the corner of her eye. As carefully as she could, she stretched her arm until the tips of her fingers could hook around the top of the spine, her chest surging into his as she yanked it from the shelf, savoring the taste of Tom Riddle’s mouth before she pushed him away altogether.

Tom panted as his eyelids snapped open, reaching up to wipe their mix of saliva that had begun to slide down the side of his mouth. Although flushed and clearly out of breath, she held the Charms book proudly up for him to see, spit-covered lips curving into a mocking smile as she began to speed walk away.

“Thanks for the book, Riddle! Don't worry, perhaps you'll get your turn after N.E.W.T.s are over,” she called over her shoulder and just before she turned to face the right direction, she swore she could see the pearly whites flash behind Tom Riddle’s lips in a smile.

a/n; omg i'm so sorry, you literally sent this request in MONTHS ago and i've been so behind �� i do hope this is somewhat what you imagined, and i hope you enjoy it!

TAGLIST;

@orphicmortala (thank you for the request <3)

@your-nanas-house

@sallowsarchives

@michelle-26

@iamthejam

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #wizarding world #harry potter #harry potter fandom #tom riddle fic #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter imagine #hp fandom

439 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 2 years ago

Text

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too.

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice.

“How are you, princess?”

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe.

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?”

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead.

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger.

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing.

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.”

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?”

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him.

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off.

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him.

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high.

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round.

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night.

#kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami

2K notes · View notes

thesharktanksdriver · 26 days ago

Text

Determination!: The all blue night (platonic)

Masterlist for the series.

I put in Zeff’s manga reasoning for loosing a leg this one cause it makes more sense and is much more impactful in my opinion. Like I get they didn’t want to put in he ate his own leg to survive because it’s super dark but I digress. Sorry for the slow rate I’m writing stuff school has been taking a big toll on me inspiration wise and kinda mentally too lol

tag list : @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck @spqce-bun @coca-cola-fiend @Koifishpoond @eyes-ofhell @imaginarydreams @ghostdoodlen

At some point in a long while hunger becomes or less like second nature

You knew the feeling intimately

It starts as a burning pit that consumes your entire stomach

Eating through stomach lining as acid boils over and spills into the rest of you

It travels and burns

Eating you away as hands scrape against the midriff to try and alleviate the ache

The pain

The want

The need

The agony

But eventually the pain becomes background noise

As does all pain after so long

You’d died so many times in so many different ways and yet starvation is one thing that is familiar to you

And like how death is your friend whom you see oh so often

So is hunger

Nights spent alone clutching a completely empty stomach

The pain becoming almost a comforting sensation in its familiarity

At some point you’d just accepted that your stay hungry

That even when dying over and over again and occasionally treating yourself to a meal you’d stay hungry

Because even when you ate it was never enough

Stomach still aching and swirling in its emptiness and collapsing in on itself

At some point a long time ago you used to go to bed with a full stomach and now each night your rocked to sleep by the pain of an empty one

Things used to be different

And you can’t remember what that was like anymore

So you just accepted as it was

And so you accepted you’d be forever hungry

Ending up a cruise ship wasn’t your intention but just as most things that happen to you it quickly becomes a new experience

And as always you go with the flow of things

Ending up on the cruise wasn’t planned

Nor was ending up somehow being found by a young chef boy who helped cover for you

But as always fate seemed to have different plans

And you just rolled with it

The boy’s name was Sanji, he was 10 and helped you hide in the storage area of the cruise

At night he’d sneak you out

With hands much like your own, scarred yet retaining a soft and caring quality he’d guide you through the halls

Past the creaky floorboards he knew by heart after 2 years of apparently living on this ship

Through the elegant dining rooms that housed grand chandeliers and checkerboard floors

Beneath the white table cloths of spotless tables he and you sit

Quietly looking at recipe books together or sharing stories between the two of you

Sanji was apparently from the north blue originally, but found himself on the cruise that now housed him called the orbit

The chefs found him one night

Scared and alone pillaging the kitchen

They took pity on him, partially out of genuine concern and intrigue at seeing the spark of talent in him

And since then he’s been cooking and calling this place “home”

Though that was a vague term

Much like yourself Sanji had ambitions beyond this small boat cruising the sea

He wanted to find something

Wanted to be something beyond an errand boy

Wanted to cook for anyone who’d have his food

To ensure they didn’t go to bed hungry

The way he describes it to you under a table in candlelight resounds something in you

Especially since he then takes your hands, promising he’d ensure you’d be full

That you’ll have the best food he can provide

All for you

Someone who’s still a stranger to him

A stowaway on a cruise meant for upper crust but not quite celestial dragons (yet they both act the same either way)

And he still promises he’d do everything in his power to make you content

He cooks for you as if you were someone important and not a stowaway

You nod along not having the will to tell him he’d never be able to do that

Not when you can’t remember what being full felt like anyways

And so you lie and say your full after you finish a plate even if your still staving

His blinding smile is able to make you feel the pain momentarily go away anyways

Sanji tells you one night of a place called “the all blue”

Supposedly it was the place that connected the north, south, east, and west together

Creating a sea where creatures from all four seas could coexist together

It was a chef and fisherman’s dream

But it was just that

A dream

Unattainable and imaginary

Or…at least that’s what everybody else thought

But not Sanji

And certainly not you

He speaks so hopeful about his dream

Of finding the all blue

Of proving everyone wrong

Of making his dream come true

He has the spark to do it

You can tell by his eyes alone

Sapphire hued just like the waves of the ocean he seeks

Similarly he sees a spark in your eyes as well

Almost seeming to Glow in hazy candlelight

And as you say you believe in him

In his dream

Believed in him when no one else did

Well, who’s to say he couldn’t become more motivated

Especially when your eyes shine like stars above the sea

And when in the candlelight highlighted by luminous stars hidden in irises he asks you about your dream

And in a haze of memory and emotion you tell him a story

One you cannot remember now but he holds dear in his heart

The story of wanting

The story loss

The story of loneliness

The story of a family torn apart

And the story of a devil fruit

By the end of it all you and Sanji sit in a darkened kitchen

Two stowaways on the same ship (though one is welcomed and the other is a mystery)

Both connected through the spark of a dream to sail the seas

One’s purpose clear while the other is hazed

But either which way the two talk in an empty kitchen and eat

Unknowingly both know what it feels like to starve

And both know loss

The two of you make a pinky promise, when he finds the all blue you’ll be the first to have one of his meals and you promise you’ll always be his friend

The raid of the orbit comes out of nowhere and somehow predictable at the same time

You’d come to know that your luck was something that ran out quite fast

And unfortunately you were no stranger to things such as this

But typically when a ship went down you were on the deck

Now instead you were in the storage

Stood atop boxes that were quickly being eaten up by cold unforgiving water

Yelling and screams echoes down quickly flooding halls

Waves crashing so Harshly against the ship that it begins to crack the wood, doesn’t help that the invading ship is bumping into it either

Confusion spreading through you like wildfire as the water continues to raise higher and higher

If you were anyone else you’d be scared of dying to such a fate

But your not

Your more worried about Sanji as you trudge through the wading waves

Feet becoming heavier and heavier with each step you take

Feeling as if concrete was slowly forming shoes over your boots or chains manifesting from the cold water that sucks warmth from you

By now it’s just above your waist and the effects of it really begin to hit you

Soon enough you’d be immobile

Unable to move and frozen like a Statue for the waves that’ll sink you with it

If you didn’t die from the cold first but you doubted that

With how the steadily rising of it your definitely drowning before hypothermia or shock

Though at this point even the pain of choking on salt water, it quickly filling your lungs for the burn of air loss to help fill the liquid

But then you hear sloshing through the blaring of your ears

And your name

It echoes and for a moment you need a moment to realize what was said or who even called out

But then it hits you

Sanji

He came back for you

Came back knowing you’d be in danger

Came back knowing you were in an area with water

Came back knowing you’d be eaten up by the waves if he didn’t

Came back because he knew knew you ate a devil fruit

Shaking cold hands grab your own and he drags you with him

But at the point in which the water gets to the point of immobilizing you he decides to pick you up instead

Placing you on his back as he drags both himself and you through flooding halls

Water splashes

Yelling continues

Sanji’s rapidly thumbing heart echoes through your ribcage as you helplessly lay your head on his shoulder

He should’ve left you there to save himself

You say so to his face

But despite that he yells at you for being an idiot

About how in the hell you expected him to leave you there to die

Not when he promised he’d cook you the first meal he’d make when he found the all blue

Not when you were the only one who enjoyed his cooking

Through the chaos you and him stumble out into the deck

The boat rocking violently as rain and sea water pelts down on you like hail

Your still weak because of this, the water soaking you to the bone

But thoroughly out of being submerged you slink off of Sanji’s back

But he holds your hand

It shakes in your grip

He’s scared and you can’t blame him

Swords clash all around the two of you, and somehow both of you weave through the carnage

For reasons you don’t like to think about he seemed used to fighting just as you were

But unlike you who content in laying down and dying he fights

Sanji will die clawing to survive

It’s why he picks up a sword

Why he points it at a pirate despite the fact he won’t win

Why he pushes you behind him even if your stronger and older than him

Because Sanji cares

And that’s something very rare now in the world

Even when the captain of the crew comes up to the two of you Sanji doesn’t back down

He proudly declares his dream

To find the all blue

And within that captains eyes you see it

That same spark, that same dream, that same determination

Though it’s dying and faded it for a moment lights up once more

You see it before being engulfed by water and grasp for it

You, Sanji and the pirate known as Zeff end up on a barren rock in the middle of the ocean

No grass nor trees

Just a jutting stone too far up from the water to safely jump in from or fish

Stuck after the captain with dimming eyes saved both you and Sanji after a colossal wave swept the two of you off ship

In the water despite your attempts in making Sanji let you go he didn’t

His grip had held stead-strong as he kept trying to pull you up with him

Unable to even as air escaped his lungs

But Zeff intervened

And the three of you were alive for now

But you could hardly call this living

You sit with Sanji looking out towards the sea, hoping for a ship to cross by

The food given by Zeff won’t last long to feed either of you past a few days, you know that

Even if Sanji does his best to ration it between the two of you

You know one of you won’t survive

And you know you won’t let it be him

Starvation is not a new go around for you

It’s probably your most common death besides dehydration, drowning or hypothermia

But it’s not a fun way to go even if the pain of a empty stomach became commonplace for you

You can’t let Sanji die that way

Not before finding the all blue

So when he’s not looking you hid the food he gives you

Hiding each piece and scrap of moldy bread

Keeping it from his sapphire eyes that become more and more sunken like your own

Keeping the fact how much pain your in from him

You distract from it all by telling him more stories

Of singing songs even if your throat feels like sand paper is scraping against it with each word

Each syllable

Each hum

But you don’t care

Not when you see his eyes reignite with hope

Not when his sullen face pulls up into a smile when you tell him of when you learned piano from a crew who befriended a whale

Not when they sparkle with curiosity when hearing of a land atop the clouds with white winged people

Not when you see the slightest bit of ease when you tell him of the constellations

Pointing to the stars and explaining their meaning

Telling him how no one was ever truly alone when the stars hung and watched

That’s what’s you had told yourself after so many weeks alone drifting

That the stars were watching

That you weren’t alone as you clutched Roger’s coat closer

Everyone was made of stardust and in the end that’s where they returned when they died

You weren’t alone, not with the stars watching over you

Not when Roger was watching over you

As you lay awake while Sanji clings to you for warmth you pull the coat closer around the two of you

One night as Sanji slept you snuck to the other side of the island

Zeff doesn’t face you, but the smell of iron lingers in a scent as familiar as the sea to you

Blood

It stains the ground and air in its presence

It’s familiar to you though, even if that’s a sad fact to admit

Sitting down next to the old captain you look to the night sky

Your oldest friend of them all

Bleak and empty with the stars being the only boots of light penetrating the deep darkness

Dead stars continuing to shine even after being extinguished, their light still traveling eons away to hit your eyes in their gentle glow amidst the sorrow and joy of life

His hand trumps your shoulder as you sit next to him, he can probably feel the bone beneath now paper thing flesh

Fat being eaten away by your body to try and survive

Leaving you a shell of yourself even moreso than him or Sanji

He can tell, and despite not looking in his diminishing eyes you can sense the horror in them

His shaking hand is enough to tell you

But despite it all you smile at him, now looking at the weathered man

Your eyes speak volumes that he can’t decipher in such little amount of time

But even with that he sees the understanding and acceptance of your own fate

And it crushes him

Grinds him down to his very spirit

And Zeff is left speechless as you tend to his tourniquet and stump of a leg

Still bloody and raw

You don’t flinch at the sight at all

If anything you gaze at blood and gore as if it were normal

Examining it as if it were a paper cut before assuring him it’s luckily not infected and that he cut off his blood circulation correctly

How you knew this knowledge was beyond him

And yet you knew it all the same

Humming a soft tune to yourself that he hears softly in the daytime across the little barren rock of an island

It’s raspy and quiet

And at the same time hauntingly loud in his ears

It seems to linger there even as you go back to Sanji

As does the fact you know what your fate is

And that there’s nothing him nor the boy could do for you, your body on the cusp of death that nothing could change that

But all the same you smile and sing in the face of it all

As if awaiting death like an old friend at a bar

Drunk on the remaining days of your life as you sung songs awaiting his arrival

You’ve always known when your time was near, you always seemed to sense it before it had come

Maybe death was a sentient entity and you’d just been able to sense it better as time went on

Or maybe you were just so used to your body shutting down that you’d noticed the signs before it happened

But either which was you knew your time was soon

There was no crying about it

Nor shivers of fear

If anything it felt more like a release and a hopeful occasion

Because you’d be released from the hunger if only to feel your stomach become empty again (but for the moment you wake in that void where you clutch a golden star the pain is gone)

If only to be released from this barren prison and find a way to save Sanji and Zeff

Because if you died you could get them help

That was seemingly the only purpose of your powers anyways

Die

Comeback

Rinse and repeat

You were fine with it though

As long as it meant you were able to help others (even at your own expense)

Every moment drags on

Every twitch of your finger takes so much out of you

Your body not having enough to power it

Despite it though you sit beside Sanji one last time

You sing for him and tell him stories

Tell him of the grand line and its wonders

The new world and its mystery

Trailing off occasionally for a break as everything becomes harder to do

The words seeming to slur and slosh around in your mouth

He can tell something is wrong

By the tears gathering in ocean blue eyes he knows

So he savours what you say

What you tell

What you sing

The words being engraved in his mind as paper thin skeletal hands clutch his own

That night he falls asleep much later than he usually did

He sits staring up to the stars you’d told him of

His grip deathly tight on your hand

Thumb lightly grazing your pulse as if to ensure himself your still there

Still breathing

Still alive

Using your pulse to try and keep himself awake even if it’s wasting precious energy

When he eventually drifts off with tears gathered in his eyes (knowing you’d be deathly still in the morning, cold and stiff and forever asleep) you tell him to find it

The all blue

He dreams of that place when you slip from his grasp

He dreams of the fishes mingling together when you take out the scraps hidden away and placing them in his pile

He dreams of preparing when you hobble over to Zeff

He dreams of cooking when the old man begs you to eat, to be selfish and you reply that you are being selfish. That you want him and Sanji to live for your sake and that was as selfish as it came

He dreams of serving you a dish when the old man can do nothing but hold you close and not want to let go and yet eventually you slip away

He dreams of your reaction as you say to Zeff your gonna go get some rest and promise to get them help with a gentle smile

He dreams of sitting beside you with his feet in the water wadding slowly, the sight of a sunset fading quickly into night

Briefly he jostles momentarily awake when you lay back next to him, smiling and telling him to get some rest

Halfway asleep he nods, partially thinking it was his dream because he’s had no one care for him like this except you (and mom and maybe Reiju)

So of course for the moment in which he’s only partially aware he sees it as a happy dream

You hold him close and he goes back to dreaming

He dreams of you sitting by his mom in that hospital bed, a dish for the two of you in her lap while you fade into the nothingness that is night

When he wakes that morning he wakes up alone and cold

He lays there for several minutes sobbing to himself as he notices the food he rationed out for you a few feet away untouched and moldy

Sanji sobs and his all blue eyes spill with tears

Across the island the old man does the same

Your body is not on the island and unknowingly to them faded to stardust

But both later come to the conclusion that in your last moments you’d decided to take the plunge into the water

To not leave them with a rotting corpse on that barren rock (since despite both of their hunger neither would eat your corpse. Zeff could eat his own leg in desperation but that was his leg, not the dead body of a child)

A reminder of both their failures

One in protecting the two young children he sacrificed his leg for

And the other in promising you’d be the first to taste his dream

Unbeknownst to them across the sea a young child reports to a ship of being a survivor of the orbit

Saying that they saw two others shipwrecked on a rocky island jutting out from the ocean

As a ship is sent off to investigate an odd group of crows end up dropping food on the barren island to Sanji and Zeff’s bitter relief

Two loafs of bread and a canteen of water being able to get them a few more days before rescue

The urge to go see them is there within your heart, but for their sake you decide not to

You’d caused them too much pain in the first place

You don’t want to rub salt in the wound

Plus you’d prefer oregano instead to season yourself

Sanji is a troubled child, he’s self aware to know that about himself

It’s perhaps why everyone hated him

But for some reason you didn’t and surprisingly enough so did Zeff

The two of you handed out kindness to him as if he deserved it

As if he weren’t a failure on so many levels both genetically and emotionally

In a sense he could get why you did it, a kid only maybe a year or two older than him

Someone he viewed as his closest friends despite the relativity of time spent together and as a sibling he wishes he had (the now healed bruises and scars you saw but never pushed to ask about as you helped put salves over the old wounds are evident of that)

Someone who sacrificed themselves for him, for some fucking reason saving your food for him even as you withered away before his eyes

If he had been more watchful he would’ve noticed it, but being half there on that island starved and scared left him more like a shell

Made him ignorant until it was too late

He could accept why you care, but he can’t accept why Zeff cares

Can’t accept why this man, a hardened pirate would give a shit about him

Offer him kindness

Take him in

Mentor him

And eat his own leg to ensure Sanji and you wouldn’t go hungry (partially worked in the end)

Sanjis sometimes gets kindness from women, moms warm hugs are evident in his mind as is the tears from a sister who tells him to go and be free

Sanji’s sometimes kindness from those his age, your the shining example but he can also think of a few guests in the orbit who played games with him in its halls

But most of all Sanji has never experienced kindness from a man

So seeing Zeff go out of his way for him

Seeing how Zeff on the rescue ship doesn’t let anyone hound him for invasive answers and ensures he gets food first

The good food the ship goers give in pity that he scrounges up with a snotty noose and runny eyes, Zeff always lets him eat first before having his own fix

How Zeff rubs his back as the both mourn

It means a lot more than words can say

As does the fact that Zeff on a silent night says he’s going to open a restaurant on the sea

And that he needs staff

A silent invitation that is solidified as Sanji quietly takes his hand with tears in his eyes

If the old man is crying Sanji doesn’t comment

Not even if raindrops fall down from a clear night sky and pelt his dirtied kitchen apron

Not when he’s held close in loving arms

Not when they sit in the deck both brokenly humming the song you’d sing like a broken record

Out of tune and off key

It plays when the two of them cook in the kitchen of the baratie

Sanji always looks to the stars when he takes a smoke break, Zerg occasionally accompanying him on the balcony in a somber silence

And even though Sanji hates wasting food he can’t help but make an extra plate sometimes

Can’t help but subconsciously make more than needed to feed someone not there

Zeff doesn’t comment on it and tells the others to lay off if they ask Sanji about it

He can’t judge when he sometimes does the same

Can’t when he sometimes looks out to sea and hears your humming in the waves

The small song sung by a raspy throat that helped ease hours of the days spent on that barren rock

Days in which he worries of his wound being infected

Days in which he worried for the boy who shared his dream and the child who looked as if they accepted death

And it stays with him

Because Zeff can so clearly see your sunken face when he spots a starved begger on the street

Can so clearly see how you curled up at night trying to keep Sanji warm as skeletal hands clung to you

Can clearly see your eyes when he stares out at night, the full shine of stars that looked so bleak

Can so clearly see you valued the two of them more than yourself no matter how either of them tried to save you

And yet they couldn’t do it

You weren’t here anymore, no body to bury or honour either

Nothing but a barren rock and cold salty water to serve as your grave

The chefs at baratie try to question when one night a year they see Zeff and Sanji leave a full plate of food on the deck

But none of them ever get an answer except it was for someone hungry they couldn’t feed

Patty always tries to chase away the crows that peck at the food but each year they return to eat that plate of food until nothing is left

And oddly enough the murder always seems to leave behind a loaf of bread in the plates place

Years later a cannonball crashes through the baratie

Cracking and breaking timber in of what Sanji calls a home

Besides that and a marine asshole with his beautiful date it’s a mostly normal day

Not the worse he’s experienced

Nor the best

Average would be the best way to put it, the baratie often times seeming more like a fight club rather than a proper cooking establishment

If the smirk wasn’t enough I n the douches face then it was the fact he wasted perfectly good food

The thought sickens him

A sunken starved face stares back at him from the wasted soup

Boney and dead

It leaves him sick to his stomach especially when a starved pirate stumbles through the door

And everything seems to come back to him all at one once

Especially the man’s eyes, they look too much like your own on those last few days on the hellish rock

Soulless and empty

When he places a plate in front of the starved man he doesn’t expect anyone from the dinning room to follow in his example

Not with their cheering of the man being beaten down by patty

But stepping through the side door someone follows

He extinguishes his cigarette and turns around just as he hears the clink of another plate being lowered to the wooden deck

And it’s there that Sanji freezes

Your eyes stare back at him in just as much shock

A cigarette long forgotten falls to the deck and is extinguished when he steps on it

His arms wrap around your own as tears drop freely from his eyes

You hold him the same as you did the last

One hand laced in golden hair while the other pats his back

His knees buckle from the weight of it all

This has to be a dream

He only sees you in dreams or in the faces of the truly hungry

Your sunken starry eyes staring out from others

But your here

And your healthy and safe and alive

And despite the fact he’s confused as all hell

He can’t help but thank whatever god there is out there that your here again

Not just a reflection of a memory

Your here

When you pull away he can’t help but want to pull you back just to ensure you don’t go

To not make the same mistake that Zeff did in letting you go that he still regrets every single day of his life

But as you pull away you don’t do so entirely, you hold both his hands as he kneels to match your level

A confused starved pirate watches confused alongside a boy in a straw hat

“I know you probably have a lot of questions” you say, your hands fidgeting in his with nervousness. You expect him to be mad, to blow up at you and yell at you to leave but he doesn’t, instead you feel his thumb rubbing circles comfortingly on your knuckles. “Think you can get the old man? I think I owe it to you to explain….oh and I’ll pay for the food. I grabbed a random plate on the way here”

#determination!#one piece #platonic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece sanji #one piece zeff #sanji op #sanji x reader #poor sanji #lol

87 notes · View notes

simp4konig · 1 year ago

Text

Intimate König headcannons

Gender-neutral Reader

Word Count: 1246

*FLUFFFFFF!!!!! YES FINALLY WE (I) LOVE THAT ☁️☺️💫

MANY THANKS TO @puff0o0💫🩵🫂💙🩵✨⭐ FOR GIVING ME TJE IMMEDIATE INSPIRATION TO WRITE THIS 🥰🥰💖 LOVE U SM POOKS I AM SO THANKFUL TO HAVE SOMEONE LIKW YOU AS MY MUTIAL 🥹🥹🥹 YOU ARE SO SWEET AND DESERVE THE WORLD (and to be with your crush😤 fuckingGOD im in AGONT when the FUCK is the wedding gonna be 😭😭💔)

Was down in the dumps and feeling really guiltt for not delivering fanficgions on time but you really reassure me and make ot seem like its alright for me to take my time 😇 Honestly am forevr used to the stress of deadlines and alwahs achieving expectations always expected of me thay i always feel intense guilt whenever i delay 😿😿 Thank you so mucj for your love and support uour messages are whay have kept me going 🙏🙏💖🫂(and motivated me immediately to write this in <5 hours LOL🤭)

also pls do NOT track my ip address puff PLEASE this is some next-levdl fbi investigation type shit and im honestly SHOOK are u secretly an fbi agent ?????😰😰never poetinf screenshots ever AGAIN ❌🚫‼️

*Physical intimacy (not sex guys🗿) headcannons for before your relationship and during your relationship

Tag List ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @abysslovesyou ♡ @puff0o0 ☆ @rustic-guitar-notes ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @reyner-lee

...

König's crush on you was not subtle. At ALL.

My personal headcannon is that he has never had a girlfriend/boyfriend/lover before. :(

I mean, bullied at school, enlisting into the military aged 17, climbing up the ranks to become a Colonel... yeah, to me it doesn't sound like the man would ever have time to find a significant other.

Oh, don't get me wrong, he would devote so much time to a partner (if he had one), would coddle them and cuddle them more than humanly possible and spend every, making the most out of every moment together. Precious hours never taken for granted that he dreamed of while on deployment.

...Yet, having no experience with receiving affection and being affectionate since being a very young boy, when his mother was still around to take care of him before he attended secondary school, up to this point he had ZERO (0) experience.

Still, König ALWAYS had a hand over your body in some way, under the guise of protecting you and keeping you out of harm's way. It was endearing that he cared so much about your well-being. 🥹

Resting a large hand on the small of your back as he guided you down crowded rooms (though that was almost always a pretence, as there would actually be very few people around, and it was only his excuse for touching you).

Leading you out, his hand would be quickly replaced by his arm wrapping around your side and pulling you close, closer even than you had been moments prior.

Truth be told, the way he touched you was the way he longed, craved for someone else to touch him. To long for him and crave him as much as he craved you.

It wasn't like you were oblivious. In fact, you were hyper-aware of the skin-to-skin touch, of every instance his fingers grazed your knuckles when handing you something, of every "accidental" bump of your head into his chest in corridors, of each time he rested a hand on your shoulder. Or on your back for reassurance — though, whether it was for your reassurance or his own, you couldn't tell.

All his touches, his gazes at your from afar and up close, the way his pale blue eyes crinkled in happiness under that long hood of his: all of it; you noticed it all. Every single time.

Obviously, you didn't object. You relished in this attention, so touch-starved that each touch made you melt. Besides, how could you even? You became putty in his hands, and you revelled the feeling of being so loved.

...However, your own intrusive thoughts insisted that you wouldn't be good enough for König, did not deserve such a man like him.

As much as it pained you to do so, you shied away from his advances, always the first to pull away.

And, of course, König noticed it. Every single time.

His immediate thought was that you didn't feel the same way. That you felt disgusted, disgusted by him and his touch.

Did you not like the way he touched you? Did you not like him?

Therefore, for a while, he toned down the touching. A simple pat on the back or a tap on the shoulder would have to suffice, despite his desperate need to feel more of you, touch you more.

Judging your reactions, scrutinising your cues... you weren't disgusted. Not in the slightest, it appeared.

You just looked... flustered. Shy. A hand would go up to hide the blush on your cheeks — nothing discreet about that — stubbornly avoiding his gaze, yet a small smile was on your face, and it made him wonder: what if you really did like the way he touched you? Liked him?

His touches became more daring. Confident.

One day, all of his anxiety ceased to exist when you reciprocated his touch with some of your own.

The hand kept in place of your hip flinched slightly at yours timidly moving to touch the top of his, interlocking fingers over his palm. Momentarily causing König to short-circuit, he became stiff, audibly gulping.

Adam's apple swallowing the dryness of his throat, he looked at you, frantically attempting to read the expression on your face.

You said nothing, didn't look at him at all, yet through that gesture alone König understood it better than had you could have ever said it in words.

For a moment, you regretted it. Even made a move to sheepishly pull your hand away. König, finally pulled out of his daze, held your hand in place, squeezing it three times. You squeezed it three times, too.

Suddenly, it all made sense to him, and, somehow, made sense to you too. You two were meant to be together, regardless of your insecurities.

Now, your dynamics shifted slightly.

Hands held together as you two sat by each other in a room, neither acknowleding the situation in case the other pulled away in embarassment. Never parting ways without a good-bye hug from you, your arms lingering by his own for a moment longer than they should have.

When you two are finally in a relationship?

☠️ Say goodbye to privacy and personal space ig

König is unbelievably clingy, and literally clings on to whatever of you he can reach. He does not let you go. There can be no compromise, and he keeps you in place, despite your protests and squirming, face flushed as you tried to playfully push him off you, obviously to no avail.

At the same time, König's touch is so, so gentle.

Tentative touches on your skin as if your body was precious porcelain, a fragile fine china.

Callous hands that had killed so many in cold blood running across your back, your arms, your waist, your legs, anywhere that König could reach, with a mildness that could have made people question whether it was even the same man and if so, how he could ever be capable of being so soft.

It doesn't matter whether you go to the gym regularly and have put on muscle or whether you are someone on the more petite side, you're so delicate to König. Like you could be broken at any moment.

For that reason, he holds back. Or, at least, tries to, for the most part. Bless his soul, he tries his best, but it's impossible not to cradle your body in his arms. <3

Unable to restrain himself, his resolve breaks after five minutes of going without you under him or on top of him or beside him or entangled with him, and his hands go back to touching you all over again, caressing you with such care and love that tears often brim in your eyes.

No one has ever been so gentle, so attentive, so loving. No one has ever touched you like this before.

And, seeing how you allow yourself to be vulnerable with him, to see you so sensitive, he would wordlessly wipe the tears away with his thumb, your eyes glassy like a doll's.

He'd run his fingers through your hair, whisper sweet nothings in a mix of English and German, often forgetting to speak in English and unconsciously reverting to German, calling you the loveliest things in a tone that expressed his complete devotion to you.

And, as you'd sleep peacefully beside him in bed, he'd admire you, and wonder how on Earth he possibly could have gotten so lucky.

...

Note: can i please have my own König irl please and thank you🙏🥰 want nothing more than a big beefy man to hold me 🥹❤️❤️(😭 man i need some mentsl help 🗿thays for another day tho am not wbout to get into the catastrophic state of my brain😊✨gonna keep deluding mtself instead !!<3)

913 notes · View notes

fettuccin-e · 2 years ago

Text

The Wonderful Way Things Change

A/N: hi there everyone... shamefully, very shamefully, I have not posted anything original since i think like february. it was an unplanned hiatus! promise it was completely unplanned, this semester just really kicked my ass lol. BUT HERE WE ARE! with matt smut of course how could I not because he is the loml so please enjoy! love you!

Description: Based off this ask, and can be read as a loose sequel to this (my first ever fanfic oh boy oh boy). In which Foggy calls you to check in on Matt, and the sight of your boyfriend all disheveled in a suit is making you a tad desperate. Thankfully, neither of you have the self-control to keep your hands to yourselves.

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, no use of y/n, smut like so much smut who do you think I am, fucking Matty in a suit, oral (f!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids) (w/c: 2.5K)

Yours and Matt’s relationship is new, somewhat, but you both know that it’s been a long time coming. It’s only been a few weeks since he finally kissed you for the first time, since he healed your poor, pining heart. It’s not like other relationships you’ve had, with the talking stage at the beginning, where you’re still asking each other about your childhoods, favorite movies, and songs. You and Matt already know everything about each other.

He knows about your shitty job that you hate but manages to pay the bills. He knows all about your childhood, all of your hopes and dreams. Up until a few weeks ago, the only secret you’d kept from him was your frankly ridiculous crush on him.

But you know that it’s the same way for him. You already know about Daredevil, and to Matt’s unending surprise, you accept him, love him for who he is. You don’t want him to give up either side of himself; you’re happy to just have him. Matt is still trying to get used to the feeling of actually having you, instead of just being by your side, letting you slip through his fingers.

Up until a few weeks ago, Matt had resigned himself to only being your friend. The friendship he’d found in you at Columbia would remain just that. Unbeknownst to him, you’d resigned yourself the exact same way. But a misunderstanding and a frustrated and ridiculously dramatic love confession later, you’d finally kissed him like he’d only dreamed of. You’d allowed him to touch you like he’d always wanted, and Matt could swear that he’s never felt anything softer, never tasted anything sweeter than you.

So the relationship is new, but it also feels like you and Matt have just been waiting, settling into routines like you’ve been together for years. You know how Matt is, how he’ll bury himself into cases and recordings and court documents, searching for that one bit of evidence that proves his client is innocent. He sends Foggy and Karen home on nights like these, insisting that they need to sleep, that they work too hard as is.

“He’s gonna be there for hours,” Foggy tells you over the phone. “You’ve gotta get him out of there or he’s going to collapse.” You laugh, pulling on your coat and stepping out of Matt’s apartment.

Ever since you had both confessed your feelings for each other, and Matt had finally, finally taken you to bed, you had more or less moved in. It hadn’t been intentional, nor had Matt officially asked you, but the one time you had broached the subject of maybe sleeping at your own apartment, Matt’s arms had wrapped around you, holding you to him while he pressed desperate kisses all over your face and neck, telling you that his apartment was so cold without you there.

“C’mon, sweetheart, haven’t we spent more than enough time apart?” he had murmured, and you had agreed.

“Yeah, alright Fog, I’m heading over there now. I’ll make sure you have a well-rested partner by tomorrow,” you giggle into the phone, and you laughed even harder at Foggy’s genuine sigh of relief.

“Christ, how did Nelson, Murdock and Page survive without you and Matt together?”

“It’s truly a mystery, Foggy,” you tease, and Foggy laughs with you. He keeps you on the phone the entire walk to their office building, filling you in on the cases he, Karen, and Matt are working on. You could talk to Foggy for hours, really, but he lets you go as you walk up the steps to their offices. With a promise to talk soon, maybe take a trip to Josie’s, you hang up, shoving your phone into your coat pocket.

You can hear the recording Matt is listening to through the door to his office, some judge droning on and on. You enter the room quietly, heart beating wildly at Matt in his sharp suit, without his glasses, hair mussed from his fingers running through it the way they usually do when he’s working through a case. You watch as a smile blooms across his pretty lips, his eyes lifting to your direction as he pauses the recording.

“Hi, baby,” he says, and his sheer beauty in that moment nearly brings you to your knees. This man, with his hair sticking up in every direction, his tie slightly loosened at his chest, big brown eyes and wide smile is yours. All yours. You can’t help how your heart beats even harder at the thought.

You watch his grin meld into a knowing smirk as he listens to the quick pattering of your heartbeat. “Something got you worked up, sweetheart?”

You hum, crossing the room to where he sits in his office chair. “Oh, you know,” you drawl, trying to keep your voice coy and light, even though you know that your heart is giving away your sudden desperation for the man in front of you. “I’m just thinking about all of the things I get to do now.”

“To me?” He’s playing coy too, trying to goad you.

“Always to you, Matty,” you giggle, and he chuckles in return. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him and relishing in how his chuckle morphs into a choked gasp.

“What- What kinds of things, gorgeous?” his voice is breathier now, beautifully affected by your actions.

“Just how I can do things like this,” you wrap your hand into his tie, tugging him towards your mouth. “And things like this-” you breathe over his mouth, before capturing his pretty, enticing lips with your own.

Matt groans into the kiss, smoothing his hands over your hips before reaching behind you to grab your ass in his big, thick hands, tugging you further up his lap. Your clothed pussy rests just over the bulge of his cock through his slacks, and you can feel it thickening beneath you.

“And you call me worked up, Matty?” you murmur against his mouth, wiggling in his lap and pulling a soft moan from his lips.

“When my gorgeous girlfriend walks into my office, smelling like my apartment and so fucking soft on top of me,” he says, squeezing your ass again, “how can you expect me to be calm, baby?”

Your stomach bursts into butterflies at the title. You’re his girlfriend. He’s your boyfriend. It feels so very juvenile, like you’re twenty years old again and still trying to get through calculus class. Maybe it’s because you’ve been waiting that long. Waiting for him, since you first met him and Foggy at Columbia. It feels so far away now, so different, and yet, you still burn bright and warm with Matt’s attention on you. Calling you his girlfriend.

He shifts his hips under yours, the bulge of his thick cock against your pussy impossible to ignore, and you whine, just barely, but Matt hears. Of course he does.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “So fucking needy.” He lurches forward again to press his lips to yours, licking into your mouth.

“Please, Matty,” you whisper, and he groans into your mouth all over again. He doesn’t separate his mouth from yours as he lifts you against him, using a hand to brush the cumbersome documents and files off the desk behind you, before laying you softly against it, running his hands over your waist and kissing you like you’re something precious.

But you are, Matt knows that you are the most precious thing in the fucking world. And you want him. Matt can hardly believe it sometimes; he still sometimes thinks he’s dreaming when he feels you in the morning, pressed tight against him, your heart calm and steady with sleep.

He licks into your mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and what a way to go. He could stay in this moment forever, kissing you while your hands tangle into his hair. But your sexy little whines are echoing around him, your hips moving in desperate little circles against the aching bulge in his slacks.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you just whine louder. It’s a nearly painful thing, taking his lips from yours, but he can fucking smell your arousal, and the need to dive between your thighs is suddenly too much for him to handle.

You kind of want to cry when Matt breaks your kiss, but your mourning at the loss of his lips is quickly cut short by his thick, calloused hands pushing your skirt up your thighs, leaving the material to bunch around your waist. He nudges his nose against your clit through your panties, taking a deep breath in through his nose, savoring it, and you nearly black out.

“Oh- oh my God,” you stutter, and Matt smirks in that ridiculously cocky way you hate that you love.

“I mean, I go by Matt, but if you want to call me God-” Matt starts, tugging your panties down your legs.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear-” You want to continue, you really do, but it’s really hard to keep your train of thought when Matt is leaning down and licking a long stripe up your soaked pussy, swirling around your clit and making your hips buck up uncontrollably. He quickly braces a forearm over your twitching body, holding you still with his strength while he eats your pretty cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, gorgeous,” he mutters between your thighs, the vibrations feeling like shockwaves up your spine. “So pretty, baby, could’ve been eating this pretty cunt since college.”

You can barely form a sentence, only able to utter out whines of Matt, Matt Matt, between desperate moans as he licks into you. You can feel him grinning into your cunt, knowing he’s driving you fucking crazy, before he’s drawing up to capture your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks. He brings his free hand up to sink a thick finger into your needy entrance, crooking it up and pressing into a spot inside that makes white creep into the edges of your vision. He just sucks and sucks, swirling his tongue around our achy clit and playing with you like a toy.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, unexpected and brutal, and you would have thrashed off the desk if it weren’t for Matt’s strong arms holding you steady. He carries you through it, licking at you softly while he keeps his finger inside, giving your pussy something to clutch onto. As your hips finally stop twitching, Matt rises, leaning over you again, and you can’t help but tug at his tie again, dragging his mouth to yours, uncaring of the taste of your pussy covering his lips.

“Please fuck me, Matty, oh god, please. Need you in me, baby,” you whine, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how needy you sound. Matt groans, sounding just as desperate as he licks into your mouth. He takes his hands from your body to reach down, undoing his belt and slacks just enough to tug his aching cock out. He’s so hard it’s nearly painful, the head sticky and red and throbbing with the need to fuck you. To claim you.

You wrap your arms over his back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as he sinks into your sensitive pussy. As he finally bottoms out, you lean back to look at him, at his big eyes staring just off your face, his mouth slightly agape.

“I thought about this, y’know,” you whisper, your nails digging into his back as he presses just a bit deeper inside. “Every time I brought you guys lunch, I-” you moan softly as Matt thrusts, hard and so fucking deep you swear you swear you can feel him in your guts. “I thought about you, fucking me on this desk, in-in this fucking suit, god, Matt.”

“Shit, baby,” he grunts, rocking into you so hard the desk rattles beneath you. You can barely pay attention to it, not when the tip of Matt’s thick cock is grinding into the spot inside you that makes you scream, your nails digging into the soft fabric covering his back. “I thought about you too, god, you have no idea, sweetheart.” You can only whine in response as he continues, “You’d bring us all lunch, wearing your little uniform, fuck, with that pretty skirt and those heels.”

Matt’s hands tighten over your hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust, and it’s so fucking good. You can’t manage to answer him through your desperate whines of his name and choked moans as his thick cock stretches you out for him, but Matt’s still talking. You don’t know if he can stop.

“I could hear your thighs brushing together under that tight fucking skirt, your heels clicking up the hall, and all I could think about was ruining you. Ripping that skirt off you and making you beg for my cock,” he grunts, driving desperately into your soaked pussy. Your head is swimming, drowning in Matt’s words, his scent, his cock.

“Now I can, baby,” he grunts, voice breaking on a choked moan. “I can fuck you just how I’ve wanted, make this pretty pussy soak my cock. Can wake up to you in my bed, fuck you whenever I want, whenever you want, baby, fuck I’m yours. You hear me, angel? I’m yours.” Matt can feel your pussy fluttering desperately around his cock, and snakes a hand between your bodies to press a thumb over your clit.

He leans over you, his tie loose and dangling over your face as he growls, “and you’re mine. Mine.”

And you’re gone, pussy tightening like a vice around Matt’s thick cock, screaming his name. Little tears escape your eyes, dripping down your cheeks as Matt groans your name in return, hips stuttering into yours and flooding your overwhelmed pussy with his cum. You can hear him, just barely, through the roar of blood in your ears as he whispers, “So good, baby, so perfect. Love you so much, so much, you have no idea. I love you, loved you for so fucking long, angel.”

You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers into his soft hair, bringing him to your lips, whispering a soft “I love you so much, Matty,” in return before meeting him in a soft kiss. His smile against your mouth is blinding, endlessly joyful, and slightly delirious.

He’s still buried inside you a few minutes later, when you finally whisper, “I’m not sure this is what Foggy had in mind when he sent me over here.”

“If this is what Foggy had in mind, I might have to send him a fruit basket, or buy him a round,” Matt chuckles, and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before you’re laughing too. Matt smiles, unable to believe that you’re his, before he cuts your giggling off with a loving kiss.

#hey I'm back #with daredevil smut #what else did you expect #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock smut #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil fanfiction

850 notes · View notes

shimonerin · 11 months ago

Text

Secret Santa w/ the Jujutsu High Students

Content: Giving Itadori, Megumi, and Nobara their favorite gifts Tags: fluff Words: 1.7k

a/n: literally my first time writing again after a year or two and also my first time actually putting myself out there and posting lol I apologize if it's messy or lengthy TvT

Itadori Yuji

I feel like Yuuji would ask for a DVD/cassette collection of his favorite movies and TV shows since he really is a “TV child” and grew up watching those. And also because DVDs/cassettes are not really a thing nowadays, it kind of gives him nostalgia to be watching the same movies he used to when he was younger.

Another thing I think he’d like is a snack basket. Just a basket filled to the brim with sweets and snacks and sodas. Just something he can eat and share with someone while he’s watching his shows.

Yuuji doesn’t ask for much and he’d be completely fine if you only managed to buy one of them or even a completely different gift. I mean, he’s basically going out every weekend in the cinemas and he’s more than capable of buying a few snacks for himself at the store. Everything else is just a bonus.

What he didn’t expect was for you to go out of your way to buy him everything on his wishlist and even gave him a meal voucher to one of the popular ramen restaurants in Japan. You know he likes rice bowls a lot and what’s better than giving him a voucher that’s worth at least three different rice bowls.

“No way! You bought all of this for me?” He exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with stars as he looked over the rack full of DVDs, a large snack basket, and a meal voucher. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes, seeing you make an effort into giving him something special.

You smiled fondly at him, chuckling softly at his lightly pouting face “I might as well, right?” You tell him so casually, as if you didn’t just crawl your way into this man’s heart with your gifts.

Without a second thought, he threw himself at you, wrapping you in a tight, almost suffocating embrace before burying his face at the crook of your neck “You’re so awesome, you know that? I was secretly hoping you were my secret santa.” He murmured softly, which you find extremely endearing. Nobara and Gojo snickered behind you and you knew you’d find yourself in the middle of another teasing session over the next few days.

As soon as Yuuji let go of you, he grabbed both of your hands, holding it in front of your chest “We should definitely stop by that ramen restaurant later! You’ve only been there once, right?” He suggested as he shook your hands excitedly like a child.

As much as he wanted to hang out with his friends this Christmas, he didn’t want to miss out on some one-on-one time with you. He’s basically begging the universe for it so he wouldn’t trade it for the world or for an extra day of training. That can wait.

Megumi Fushiguro

I feel like Megumi isn’t even interested in joining Secret Santa. Poor boy was just forced by Gojo and Itadori lol. As he’s not interested in receiving any material gifts anyways, at most he’d probably just ask for a book.

He didn’t even give you any specific book he’d want you to buy so you had to ask Gojo “Oh, he’s not really into fantasy books, if that’s what you’re thinking,” He tells you as he leaned back onto the sofa “He’s leaning more towards nonfiction novels. Like the classics, you know?”

Heading straight towards the bookstore after training hours, you decided to go for “In Praise of Shadows” by Junichiro Tanizaki, simply because the title reminded you of his cursed technique. Though, the synopsis for the book isn’t too far off from his tastes.

Giving him only the book felt empty so you decided to look for mini figurines for his shikigamis at a nearby pottery shop. You wanted to give him something to symbolize his immense care for these animals, which was one of the things you loved the most about him. In the end, you had bought a total of 10 mini clay figurines. You placed it alongside the book inside a neat box with Japanese wrapping paper and a small bunny origami that resembles one of his shikigami on top to finish it off.

When it was time to give your gift to Megumi, he was quite impressed with the way it was wrapped but kept his reactions to a minimum “Ah, thanks.” He’d say, with a hand behind his neck

Only when he opens his present will you see the visible change in his expression. He pulls out the book and the mini figurines of the Divine Dogs, his gaze darting all over it in subtle fascination.

You purse your lips, tilting your head slightly “Do you like it?” You asked him, albeit a little nervously.

“Hey! Say something, won't you?” Nobara shouted, crossing her arms at the boy “Don't just sit there and stare!”

Megumi lifted his head off your bundle of gifts as he gazed back at your smiling face, a sudden feeling of happiness swelling in his chest but he kept it in.

“It’s…nice. I like it.” He spoke quietly, as if he’s only talking to you, blocking out all of the other sounds around him “You shouldn't have bought so much.”

He wanted to say more than that but his real feelings can't be summed up in a few words and he didn't want to come off so cheesy in front of his friends.

You laughed in response, waving off his words “No, no, I want to! You seem so indifferent with Christmas and I just wanted to give you something to smile about!” You lightly teased him, knowing you would have loved him either way.

At this point, Itadori and Nobara were forcing Megumi to smile for you as a joke, poking and prodding at his cheeks like they always do.

In the middle of the teasing session, you could definitely make out a small genuine smile from his otherwise stoic face, one that's easy to miss if you’re not looking closely enough.

Later that evening, when you finally got home, you received an unexpected call from Gojo, saying “Hey, just called to tell you Megumi loved what you gave him.” He tells you “In fact, he’s arranging those figurines you bought him at his bedside table.”

Without a second thought, you could hear Gojo put his phone closer to Megumi’s room, as the faint sound of soft clashes of wood on wood fills your ears.

Gojo puts himself back on the call “Oh, and the book that you gave him? Yeah, he started reading it on the way home. Looks like you really got him this time.”

You couldn't help the smile slowly spreading across your face like a child “Really?” You say, trying not to let your voice give out what you're feeling “That’s…that’s great! Tell him to cherish it for me, Gojo-sensei!”

Unbeknownst to you, you were on speaker the whole time.

Kugisaki Nobara

Oh it was anxiety-inducing to think of what to give to Nobara. She’s a girl who knows her worth and knows exactly what she deserves. And while that was an aspect of her personality that you love and admire a lot, there’s only so much that you can do with your allowance.

Her wish list states that she wanted stylish clothing, accessories, or anything that looks good on her, given how much she loves shopping. Of course, she didn’t ask for Balenciaga or Onitsuka Tiger. She’s not that delusional.

But you can’t help as if every gift you’d think of wouldn’t be good enough for her. You only wanted to give her the best things because that’s when you’ll see her smile the brightest. And you’d probably do anything to see it on her all the time.

Over the weekend, you made a plan to go to Shibuya, going straight to the popular fashion mall, Shibuya 109. Entering one of the more affordable clothing chains in the establishment, you purchased a cute, oversized graphic tee for her. You also decided to buy her a box set of accessories like hairpins, bracelets, chains, and scrunchies.

Buying one last thing for her with the money that you have, you go to a local chocolatier and order a box of macaroons. Nobara has always been a fan of sweets, after all.

On Christmas Day, when it was your turn to give your gifts, you glanced towards Nobara who was sitting beside you before handing her a beautifully wrapped gift with a ribbon on top.

“Merry Christmas, Nobara. You’re gonna love this.” You’d sweetly say as she widened her eyes, delicately loosening the ribbon string.

As soon as her eyes landed on the top you bought for her, chic accessories, and the box of macaroons, she couldn't simply contain her excitement.

Her eyes were basically stars as she immediately tried on the shirt, twisting and turning to see how it looked “(Y/N), this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed

Opening the box of accessories next, she quickly tried on the hairclips and wore the bracelets, hurriedly trying them on all at once “Where did you buy all this? It honestly looks so good.” She asked you, a wide smile plastered on her face

You scratched the back of your head and grinned “I…I honestly went to Shibuya this Saturday. I thought I might find you something different from the shops there.”

She immediately dropped everything she was holding and perked up in interest “And you didn't bring me with you? That would have been the best Christmas gift you could give me!” She says, her warm hands immediately wrapping around yours “Then maybe you shouldn't have spent all your money on me. I heard some stores there are so expensive.”

Your grip on her hand tightened into a gentle squeeze “You don't need to worry. I got my money's worth so it’s okay, really.” You reassured her.

You could see the tears forming on her eyes, only for her to wipe it off as she pouted “Well, at least let me share my macarons with you!” She tells you before picking one from the box and feeding you a strawberry cream-filled flavor macaron.

Nobara made a promise to be the one to take you to Shibuya next time and even go as far as to spoil you, even when you told her not to.

How could she not? She’s so picky with everything but you’re the only one who seems to pinpoint her tastes so well. She’s never met anyone who could match her as good as you do so she’ll make sure to return the favor.

Happy holidays x

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki #jjk kugisaki #jjk nobara #nobara x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagines #Spotify

193 notes · View notes

tsukimefuku · 8 months ago

Text

these silly little memories ❖ nanami kento

summary: you reminisce about the past while chatting with ijichi and yuuji.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, soft/implied nanami x reader, fluff, poking fun at nanami's teenage bangs.

wc: 900

notes, etc: i wrote this to the sound of sunny (yorushika). this is a short little silly story that i had in my mind for a while before finally deciding on writing it, lol.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

You, Ijichi and Yuuji were seated silently on a table. All three were waiting for Nanami to meet up just so everybody could take a single car ride — he and Yuuji were going on a mission together, and you were going home after assisting Shoko on her duties for the day.

You could pay for a cab, but then again, why would you do that if you could slack off some more benefits from Jujutsu High?

"So, Ijichi..." You began, half-minded at this point. It had barely been a week since you arrived at Jujutsu High.

He quickly propped up, ready to answer absolutely any question you could have as a new sorcerer (and somebody else to order him around, it seemed).

Since you were new to Jujutsu High, had not been on a mission with Nanami up until this point, and Gojo was the one to bring you in, Ijichi figured you'd still have questions about the way things worked around there.

"Y-yes?"

"What is Nanami like here?" You questioned, out of the blue.

That caught both him and Yuuji by surprise, as both of them answered with a resounding eh?

You sighed.

"I mean, he was a very stern, serious teenager when I met him years ago. He looks a lot different, but is he?"

"Oh, you knew Nanamin?!" Yuuji asked, eager to pry some insight into his newly found mentor.

You looked at him and smiled.

"Oh, yeah, I sure did. We met at Odate when he and Gojo saved me."

Ijichi's mind started to flash some things to him until he finally realized.

"Wait. That was you?!"

You blinked, confused.

"What do you mean, 'that was me?'"

"I-I..." Ijichi stuttered. "I was the one helping him in research during that mission."

"Oh... Oh! Ijichi, of course!" You exclaimed, much to his surprise, while you remembered decade-old bits and pieces. "It's good to finally be meeting you in person" you said, tapping his shoulder.

He smiled, slightly embarrassed for not having recognized your name when you introduced yourself a few days ago.

"So you knew him as a teenager too! Is he any different now?" You inquired, staring at Ijichi until he became a little uncomfortable.

"I-I think not. He was always the most responsible and m-mature one of us" Ijichi finally answered, and you smiled, reclining back on your chair.

"Nanamin is very serious," Yuuji began, "and he usually lectures us when we have a blunder or are in the middle of a mission — or maybe it's just me that he lectures so much."

"No, it's every one..." Ijichi answered, involuntarily sighing.

"Oh, he still does that? The lecturing thing?" You asked. "I mean, maturity minus the bangs, right?" You chirped, chuckling softly. Ijichi covered his mouth, but you could see a faint smile forming.

Yuuji was at a loss.

"Bangs?" The boy asked earnestly.

"Oh, you're gonna love this!" You said, as you fished your wallet out of your pocket. From it, you took an old Polaroid picture that featured you, your best friend, your brother, Nanami and Gojo when they were on their mission in Odate. Then, you proceeded to hand the picture to Yuuji, and his eyes beamed, like he had discovered some very important piece of information instead of complete shenanigans.

"Those bangs were something. Once, when I had to patch his face up, his hair kept falling all over the bruises, it looked like someone had punched a blonde Gerard Way" you let out, scratching your head with a grin. Yuuji let out a laugh, and Ijichi seemed to scoff in an attempt to keep himself from laughing.

You noticed that.

"Oh, come on, Ijichi. You know it was funny and somewhat true. You can totally laugh about it with me, I won't tell if you don't, promise" you said, extending a pinkie finger in his direction.

He looked at your hand uncertain, but began lifting his own pinkie extended towards yours.

"What is the fun? I heard laughter" the already familiar voice resounded from behind the three of you.

Ijichi was paralyzed in stone, and you turned your face grinning mischievously at Nanami. Yuuji quickly tried hiding the picture, fumbling around and letting it fall to the ground.

"Hm?" Nanami got down to pick up the picture, and took a good look at it. "It seems that you have this ancient piece of history still in your possession."

"Of course. How else would I have a picture of 'bangs Nanami?'" You retorted, reaching for the picture while still seated.

He took a step back, pulling it away from you.

"If I remember correctly, that morning you ate tamagoyaki inside miso soup, with salmon, also inside miso soup, all mashed up, and choked yourself," he said, lifting his gaze towards you, one brow up.

"Eh? T-that... did not h-happen at all!" It did.

"Wait, so you... Put your tamagoyaki inside your miso soup? Why?" Ijichi asked, slightly incredulous.

"And with mashed salmon too?!" Yuuji chimed in, also kind of aghast.

"Oh, shut up, the both of you!"

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I just don't really care how I eat my food!"

"Clearly" Nanami noted. "She also mixes anything she has available to eat into a desecrated version of the original food. It's unsightly" he complemented, before handing the picture back to you.

You sighed, amusedly defeated, saying, "well, you have changed. Now you poke me back when I poke fun at you."

"I'm unaware of such a thing," Nanami replied, pushing his glasses into position with one hand, using the opportunity to cover up a discreet smile with his hand over his face.

113 notes · View notes

mumms-the-word · 7 days ago

Text

More veilguard thoughts! The usual spoiler warnings apply, but also I haven’t gotten very far tbh

So I made the big decision and chose to save Treviso. My original opinion that it could have been more nuanced/tricky still stands BUT! There was more cost/consequences than I was expecting, which is kind of a pleasant surprise

I thought for sure I’d lose NPCs for the emotional hit but to my surprise I straight up lost access to an entire faction; the merchant for the Shadow Dragons was executed and the Viper has the blight and everything is really dire in Minrathous right now. Also Neve doesn’t trust me and won’t use support abilities anymore

That’s….kind of amazing. That’s way more reactivity for that choice than I was expecting

Now I will admit that the emotional impact was lost on me because I knew the choice was coming, but that’s not a critique of the game moreso that it’s me being frustrated with people not tagging stuff. But I digress

I now have all the companions! Davrin is charming and I will absolutely be romancing him next (I’m going for Emmrich). Emmrich is delightful, although at the moment I have mixed feelings about him because the fandom is just so loud about how much they adore him and they launched my expectations too high I think. Still, I’m committing to his romance. And Taash…

Okay, idk why Taash can breathe fire and I hope it gets addressed because it feels very Special(TM) to me 💀 maybe I’m being too harsh. also I can see her character arc from a mile away since she said “you don’t get to tell me who I am” like 3 times in her starting quest alone, but in my defense, I also already knew her character arc would be about her identity

and oh boy am I not looking forward to the fandom takes about her/them and the fights about pronouns and identity and stuff

Everything I know is vague though

For now I’ll say I’m surprised and a little amused at how young Taash seems compared to everyone else. I can’t remember the last time I met a companion’s over-endearing mom in a DA game (not counting Fiona, who is a bad mom, or a Flemeth, who is….Flemeth)

Also I love her character design and I am generally delighted by her as a character! I just have questions lol

Other thoughts: It was a delight to see Isabela and her Raiders hat. I’m still finding quite a lot of cross-references in the codex and mementos and such. The lighthouse is starting to flourish. I can hug Assan and play rock-paper-scissors with Manfred.

Oh and I talked to Harding about the Inquisition! Which was very cute. But also babygirl what do you mean you weren’t part of my (Inquisitor’s) inner circle?? We were besties!!!

Also would have liked a side comment on the DAI romances. I don’t think she says anything for any romance (currently my game is solavellan so…I could see why maybe she wouldn’t comment, maaaaybe) but like it could have been so easy if she had just said 2-3 lines about it.

“The Inquisitor spent most of their down time with the Iron Bull at the Herald’s Rest, our tavern. (Laughs) One time, Cullen walked in on them and—uh, well I probably shouldn’t tell that story.”

“They spent a lot of time with Josephine, whenever she wasn’t busy arranging meetings or taking tea with people. Oh, and they dueled an Antivan lord for her! Like something out of a book.”

“You couldn’t tear the Inquisitor and Sera apart for anything. Pranks were at an all time high in Skyhold for a while there. No one was safe.”

See? How easy is that BioWare 😭

But anyway. Gameplay is still super fun and I love all the callbacks and cross references. The Grand Necropolis is eerie, Rivain is beautiful, and I am curious to see what happens next.

I’m also finally at a point where I don’t know ANY spoilers for the rest of the game!!! That’s so exciting for me!

More soon! Thanks for joining me on the weird reaction journey haha <3

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv #da4 #dragon age spoilers #datv spoilers #just some thoughts #some good stuff and some light critiques #mostly good tho

21 notes · View notes

vinetae · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepless Hours - JJK

summary: sharing a bed wasn't the easiest thing for Jungkook. Especially when it's sleeping next to Namjoon's friend... AKA, his crush..

Genre: Fluff, Smut, comedy, F2L, Only one bed trope

Warnings: cute talks and cuddles. More cuddles. Jimin's a cockblock. Mentions of Jungkook's dick once- no. Twice. Dummies in love, late night talks and cuddles.

A/n: Smut update because someone tagged this sad excuse for a oneshot in their masterlist recs. Actually I took the banner pic lol. So aestheticccc. Maybe I wrote a whole fanfic just for the purpose of sharing this pic

Maybe I didn't. You'll never know.

----

Your hand pushes down onto the hotel's door, sliding the keyboard back to Jungkook's hand once he sets all the bags down. You chuckle, as Jimin shuts the door behind you three.

"You know, I could've carried my own stuff, Kook." He smiles, shaking his head. "Nah, nah. I needed the workout."

Your eyes roll, as you begin to unpack you things. Namjoon had invited you to the LA tour with him, not knowing that girlfriend had been wanting to go too. So, Jungkook ended up buying you an extra ticket, ironically sat right beside him. And when you had to figure out sleeping arrangements, Jungkook kept you tight and close. Suggesting that you could bunk with him and Jimin in their hotel room for the trip since Namjoon's girlfriend had been wanting some.. alone time with her spouse. *So to say*..

You reach up to pop your back, groaning from exhaustion. "So," you shake your head, along with your body to rid itself of the sleepiness. "Who's sleeping where?"

They both share a similar look, eyebrows raising. Jungkook speaks up. "Oh.. we didn't really think about that.."

Your arms cross playfully, slinging your clean clothes across your arm, planning on heading into the shower once their Vlive starts. The walls had been pretty thick, so you're almost positive the fans wouldn't be able to hear water running. If they had, jimin said he could say that Hobi's shower hadn't been working and just decided to crash with them for the night.

Jungkook takes a glance around the room, watching as you're quick to pull out the sofa bed in one go. You straighten up, dusting your hands off as if they had been dirty. "What?" You ask, head tilting at his surprised look.

He shakes his head. "Nothing it's just.."

Jimin cuts in, popping a small French fry into his mouth. "He thinks it's hot."

Your lips curve into a smile, shrugging. "Well it's winter right now but.. it might get a little hot later if we leave the A/C off." Jungkook chuckles at your overlook of his Hyung's comment, grabbing the phone to start and order some food.

Jimin rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath at your obvious miss of his hint.

—-

Jungkook thanking the man, before letting you know it had been safe to come out of hiding from the barn-doored bathroom. He sets the delivery bags down, locking the door behind himself.

"Oh uhm- Y/n if you can go ahead and eat that'd be great." He comments, while Jimin's already on the floor, using the little move-able foot stool as a table.

You nod, grabbing some of your things to eat at the table alone while the two boys had set everything for the live.

They sure did love their fans, you thought. A smile tugging your lips as you begin to dig in.

—-

Your hands come to reach upwards, removing the last bit of clothing before stepping into the fogged up shower. It had been one of the luxurious showers you'd have ever taken. A gold nob and handles on the side, with stone marble tiles and flooring. LED lights rimmed the crystal clear reflection in the mirror, making it seem as if it had almost been a portal of some sort.

Yeah, a portal to richness.

Once you heard the two boys bidding a farewell to the stream, you walk out of the bathroom sporting a button up loose flannel, with some knee cut shorts. Jungkook's head turns from the side to admire your attire.

"Wow.."

You chuckle silently, taking a seat over by the table as to not cause any disturbance.

Too late.

Jungkook's cock was now harder than learning English. His eyes followed up the trails and dips of your thighs, before settling on the sculpture of your entire shown frame. Anything he could see, he basked in. Anything of yours, he practically wished he could have between his lips.

It wasn't until Jimin had to stab at his leg under the table non-chalantly, acting as if he'd been trying to read the comments that had been speeding by. Jungkook flinches, eyes trying to focus on what had been on hand here. His hand comes to reach for a pillow, using it to lean on for the live. When in actuality, it had been concealing how much he really liked you.

—-

You sigh, flopping to the back of the couch, as the two boys stayed flat on the floor, continuing to eat the rest of their delivered rice and Jajangmyeon noodles. Jungkook sat between the space just in front of your legs… on accident.

Or so he had claimed.

When in reality, he'd been using the sneakiest tactics to try and slowly lean further and further against your thighs without you noticing.

You had. Obviously.

Your mouth gaps, letting a large yawn escape. Eyes lulling shut, playing a mental game of 'sleep no sleep'. You lay back onto the pull out sofa bed, snuggling into the comfort of it's cozy sheet set. Once the two had been done eating their meals, they started to clean up. Careful as to not disturb your half asleep figure. Jimin leans close to jungkook while washing the beer Glas he'd been drinking from during dinner.

"So, you sleeping there with her?" Jungkook nods, setting one more glass into the sink for his Hyung to wash. Jimin's eyes glance towards your sleepy self, chuckling.

"Do I need to go ask if I can sleep with Hoseok?" Jungkook's cheeks redden, shrugging.

"No no, I'm kidding. No, you can stay, Hyung. I'm really tired anyways." Jimin's eyebrow quirks, not truly believing his younger brother-figure, but is too exhausted from the long flight to even care at this point.

Once Jimin's done with the dishes, he makes his way towards the king suite bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Jungkook turns to the side, startled by your sat up and perked figure.

"Hey." You shyly comment, as he's making his way towards the bed, fixing some of the sheets.

"Hey" he mirrors, before making his way to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returns, prepped and ready for a goodnight sleep. Well.. what he thought he'd have a good night sleep in.

Turns out, you're a huge bed hog. Twisting over to the opposite side, snatching away 92% of his comforter. He rolls to your side, gently leaning over your body to shake you awake.

"Y/n.." he softly calls out.

"Y/n.." a little louder.

Then,

"Y/N! He yelps, sighing in frustration from your lack of response.

Alright then. You were a heavy sleeper as well.

His hand comes to lightly graze your shoulder, trying once more to calmly wake you. Your body rolls onto it's back, as your begin to let out little snores.

Cute, Jungkook thought.

He tugs the blanket a bit more, trying to get comfortable on his back, letting out a relaxed sigh.

Until an arm hits him in the face.

Sitting up, he's quick to assess the room, chuckling from seeing that it had been your arm. Not some crazy fan trying to kidnap him.

He lays back down once again, shuffling with the paper-like sheets before finally finding a comfortable position. As his eyes are finally being able to drift to dreamland, a figure wraps itself around his midsection. Legs tangling up in his, on their own. His eyes peep open, head turning to the side to smile at your cute position. Face nuzzle into his side, digging its way to move his arm up and around you.

Yet, you had still remained completely unconscious.

"Jeez, Y/n.. you could sleep through a zombie apocalypse, huh?" He chuckles.

You nod, "mhm".

His eyes widen, lowering his head to sleep that you'd been completely awake and aware now. Eyes drawing into his, as your arms come around to pull him your body closer.

Ohhh shit.

There goes his dick again.

"I-I.. didn't know you were awake.." Your lips tug into smile, lifting your head to rest it on the crease of his shoulder. Eyes doe-like and wide, gazing into his own.

The world seemed to stand still. Not a sound was to made. A breath to be exhaled. As if it has just been you and hi-

"Jungkook I asked if I was needing to go sleep with Hobi tonight.." Jimin chuckles, throwing a pillow to your side of the bed. Before you know it, you're squished between the two very differentiating men. Jungkook's arm wrapped around your body to keep your close to him, as Jimin laid to the side of you, turned to face the brightly lit window's nightly glow.

Jungkook's head lifts to glance over to Jimin. "Uh- Hyung, I thought you were sleeping in the king bed."

Jimin chuckles, turning to face Jungkook, as you pull yourself closer into his embrace. Jimin's lips fall quietly, as he calmly speaks.

"Namjoon said he doesn't trust you with his friend." Jungkook faints a hurt expression, gasping.

"Me? Why not?"

Jimin's eyebrows wiggle, eyes quickly taking a glance to Jungkook's prominent cock poking through the sheets.

"Oh, I don't know. Just a guess."

Jimin laughs softly, before rolling over to rhe middle, scooting in between the two of you. You sigh, lightly hitting at Jimin's shoulder, making him smile.

"Abuse me all you want. I'm not letting there be any baby Kookies running around anytime soon."

With this, you and Jungkook both decide in unanimously giving up after ten minutes of try to persuade his hyung, who'd been stone cold.

And Jungkook had still been stone hard.

Settling for falling asleep while holding hands across Jimin's lightly snoring body.

Letting sleep consume the three of you in a peaceful manner.

------

It's 2am, I'm going to sleep lol.

475 notes · View notes

triplexdoublex · 10 months ago

Text

Chlorine and Nicotine

Pairing: Jaden Hossler x Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut , Age Gap (reader is in her 30’s) tipsy hookup (consent implied) mentions of prior divorce, pregnancy, c section and children. Body image issues /self conscious reader . Mention of coopers death/fentanyl poisoning.

A/N: 5.5k words! This one’s for the self conscious and tired mamas on this app. Go find yourself a Jaden lol

You and your two other friends, Ashley and Liz, had planned the perfect getaway to celebrate your messy divorce being finalized: A child-free, 7 day, all-inclusive, 21+ cruise to the Bahamas. Tickets were purchased, excursions were selected, trustworthy babysitters were hired and bags were packed, there’s only one thing you all forgot…

“Is it just me or are we like the oldest ones here?” You ask your friends, looking around as you all board the cruise ship.

“Yeah, I noticed that too— seems like mostly college kids for some reason?” Liz responds.

Just then you all notice the banner on the side of the ship ‘Spring Break 2023’!

The three of you, having been out of school for close to two decades already, had completely forgotten this week was usually spring break.

“Ugh,” Ashley groans, “I can’t believe we forgot. I was hoping we could all get some much needed rest and a full night's sleep this week without our kids, not be kept up by a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls partying.”

“Hey, you know what? As long as I’m with you guys I’m sure we’ll still have a great time, even if they do keep us up. Besides you know the saying ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. When was the last time any of us got to let loose and party a little?” You reply.

“True,”

“Yeah, you’re right,” your friends answer in unison.

“Ok,well now that that’s settled, first order of business is finding our cabin, changing into our bikinis, and working on our tans while we sip margaritas pool side.” You instruct. “Let’s go!”

**********

“Whooof!” You exhale. “I’m getting hot. I’m gonna go take a dip in the pool and cool off real quick. I’ll be right back.” You head into the pool.

“Ash, do you hear that? I think those guys next to us on the right are talking about Y/N. Listen,” Liz says, keeping her voice low..

“— yeah the one in the yellow floral two piece… right there … she just got into the pool… she’s a total MILF bro—“

“Okay, I’m back, mmmn that cold water was refreshing. Did I miss anything?” You joke, knowing you were only gone for a minute.

“You did actually,” Ashley speaks in a whisper “Apparently you’re a Milf!” Liz adds.

“Says who!?” You laugh.

“Shhhh! Liz warns. “That little cutie right over there,” She nods in his direction. “The one in the black swim trunks.”

Descretly, you turn to see who your friends are talking about.

“Oh my god, I’m pretty sure I have jeans in my closet older than him! You scoff before taking another look. “I mean… he is pretty cute though— solid body, lots of tattoos.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you actually do,” Ashley laughs. Which reminds me we need to go shopping and update that wardrobe of yours, I haven’t seen you in anything but leggings for the past 6 years.”

“Ugh I know! It’s because nothing fits! It’s been 6 years since I had the twins and I’m still not back to my pre-baby weight,” you sulk. “Plus I’ve been so busy taking care of them and putting them first, I haven’t even had time to think about me. And now with the divorce and paying my lawyer— money’s tight. If it wasn’t for you guys paying my share of this trip, I wouldn’t have been able to go, and lord knows I need the break. I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aww you’re so welcome,” Liz hugs you.

“You deserve it,” Ashley says, patting your shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m being a negative Nancy. Fuck all our problems! We’re here to escape them and have fun!” You state. “Anyone else getting hungry, I could totally go for a burger?”

**********

At night, the pool area transforms into somewhat of a night club, with drinks, dancing, swimming and fun events— tonight’s is a singles lap dance competition.

“Good Evening,cruisers!!! The lap dance competition is about to begin,” the event organizer announces. “I need three single people to volunteer to receive a lap dance, raise your hand if your single and would like to receive a lap,” he shouts loud and enthusiastically as if announcing a wrestling match.

“Oh my god y/n! You should totally do it!” Ashley squeals, trying to raise your hand for you.

“No way, are you crazy?” You laugh pulling your hand back down.

“C’mon y/n, you’re single now , and when was the last time you had a hott guy on top of you?”

“Not within the last eight years, I know that much!” Liz sasses, wide-eyed taking a sip of her drink, and making you spit out yours.

“Fair enough,” you cough out after practically choking. “Fine I’ll do it,” you agree,the liquid courage you’ve been sipping on, helping to release your inhibitions.

“Alright, I just need one more volunteer!”

You adjust your bathing suit and raise your hand.

“ Ok pretty lady, c’mon up,” the DJ calls out. You head up onto the stage, your friends laughing, screaming and cheering you on. “Now I’m gonna need some volunteers to give the lap dances. Let’s start with this pretty lady right here,” the DJ motions to you. “Who wants to give this beautiful woman a lap dance?”

You look out into the crowd watching as a few hands go up. One in particular catches you eye, and you try to place why he looks slightly familiar, and then it hits you; it’s the young guy your friends overheard calling you a MILF earlier in the day.

“Alright, take your pick,” the DJ tells you.

“Him—the one with the dark hair and tattoos,” you point into the audience, before taking a seat on the folding chair on stage.

“You heard her, my man, c’mon up,” the DJ calls him to the stage.

He stands in front of you wearing his black swim trunks from earlier but is now also sporting a white tank top and a forward facing baseball cap. You can feel his eyes looking down at you, checking you out while waiting for the other contestants to choose their lap dance partner.

“Let’s get it started!” the DJ announces. “At the end of the song, y’all are gonna help me decide the winner,” he says, speaking to the audience. “Let’s gooo!!”

Sam Smith’s ‘Unholy’ starts bumping from the speakers and your tattooed partner throws his head back in a brief laugh at the song choice, before locking eyes with you. He wastes no time getting close; stepping forward so that both of your legs are sandwiched between his wide stance. With one hand on your shoulder he begins rolling his body in your lap, his free hand quickly grabbing his hat and turning it backwards so the brim doesn’t hinder his view of you. He glides that same hand down his torso over his white tank to its hem, bunches the material in his hand and slides it up, exposing his perfectly toned abs. You smirk, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight. He removes his hand from your shoulder and uses both hands to peel his tank off completely, tossing it down on the stage. Then he slides his thumbs into the waistband of his swim trunks purposely lowering them, his prominent V-lines on full display, along with a fuzzy line of hair descending from his navel. Your eyes follow the trail down until it meets a small patch just barely visible peeking out the top of his swim trunks. Your mind wanders, imaging what’s below—imaging what he’s working with. The trance you’re in is broken when he places one of your hands flat on his chest, inviting you to touch him while he moves in your lap. You let your hand glide down over the topography of his body, your fingertips exploring the hills and valleys of muscle as you go, stopping when your hand reaches the horizon where flesh meets material, even though your hand craves to continue its descent. As if he can read your mind, he pushes your hand lower, pressing his half hard bulge against your palm as he rolls his hips insync with the last ‘unholy’ of the song before it ends.

“Alright it’s time to vote. Let me hear you give it up for couple number one,” the DJ instructs. The audience claps, cheers and hoots. “Alright, a alright, now make some noise for couple number two.” A slightly louder roar of cheer and applause echoes under the night sky. Your sexy partner stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders as you both await your turn.“And last but not least couple number three.” The crowd goes wild with thunderous clapping,and high pitched whistles —your friends cheers the loudest of them all. “We have a clear winner here tonight, folks,” the DJ announces. “Winning by a landslide…couple number three!”

Tattooed arms unexpectedly scoop you up off the chair, running bridal style off the stage and towards the pool with you. You playfully shriek and laugh the whole way until … splash... he jumps in the water with you. When you both surface again, your hungry mouths are attacking one another like prey: desperate and determined. He moves forward in the water, pinning you against the side of the pool with his body as you devour each other— all lips, tongue, teeth and flesh. His skin tastes like chlorine, his kisses- a hint of nicotine; and just as addictive. Underwater, he teases a hand up your inner thigh and begins gently rubbing you through the fabric of your bathing suit. You allow it, encourage it actually—rocking your hips to press yourself firmer against his fingertips. You can feel how hard he is through his swim trunks and you opt to help him out, grasping his hard cock through the thin veil of fabric. You work each other into a sexual frenzy and it’s not long before his fingers transcend the boundary of your bathing suit bottoms, pushing the fabric aside and inserting two slender fingers inside of you. You follow his lead, sinking your hand into his swim trunks and wrapping your fingers tightly around him.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a complete stranger who’s name you don’t even know, or that he’s much younger than you, or perhaps even because no one besides your ex-husband has touched you this intimately in years, but you feel a familiar sense of heightened arousal that can only compare to the giddy exhilaration of your first sexual experience. God the nostalgia!—Back when just the novelty of making out, and touching each other was enough. Back when foreplay still existed, before the busyness of life and motherhood had you trading sex for sleep. Or swapping making love for quickies during naptime.

Every swirl of his tongue, curl of his fingers, and flick of your wrist has you feeling renewed, awake and alive again. You never want this to end but your body is chasing after the high it so desperately wants bucking against his palm while his fingers caress that sweet spot inside of you. As your orgasm begins to build, your grip on him falters so he places his free hand over yours, helping you stroke him. The feeling of your walls squeezing his fingers as you cum is so sexy to him that he finishes shortly after you.

Since the moment he jumped into the pool with you in his arms, you’ve been in your own world, oblivious to anything or anyone around you. It’s not until you start coming down from your high that the outside world starts to trickle back in: the music, the people, the sounds of your friends cheering your name. You turn to the direction of the noise in search of your friends, but a series of cannonballs by a group of guys momentarily blocks your view before you finally spot them. When you turn back after locating them, the boy is gone.

***********

The next morning in line for the breakfast buffet you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry about last night. My name’s Jaden by the way,” he holds out his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you shake his hand. “What exactly are you sorry about? I may have been a little tipsy, but I remember having a great time.” You give a small smirk.

“Ok, good,” he smiles “I was worried I got a little too caught up in the moment and took things too far,” he admits. “But mostly I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that. My buddies almost drowned me with their cannonballs and I wanted to spare you from having to see me choke to death and squirt water out of my nose.” He laughs.

“Fair. You’re forgiven,” you joke. “Can I ask you something?

“Of course, ask away.”

“How old are you?” You brace yourself for the answer, but at least you know he’s at least twenty one.

“Twenty two, you?”

“Oh god, umm let’s just call it mid 30’s” you answer, slightly embarrassed, and worried about how he might react.

“Can I ask you a question now?” He asks.

“Sure.”

“I’d like to spend some more time with you today. Would you like that?” He asks.

“Wait, so your not bothered by me being much older than you?” You question.

“Not at all,” he smirks. “Sooo is that a yes then?”

“I-I dunno..” you're sure he just wants to hook up again , and you don’t want to give him that impression. Last night was just a heat of the moment thing.

“I just wanna talk, get to know you. Hands to myself this time, promise,” he replies as if he’s read your mind.

“Okay,” you agree. “My friends and I have a dolphin excursion during the day and dinner reservations at 6:00, so why don’t we meet somewhere around 8:00?”

“That works for me. Meet at the hot tubs?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” You answer.

**********

You head down to the deck with the hot tubs after dinner; bathing suit on and towel in hand. You know you’re going to be a few minutes early but you figure you’d get there before they get crowed. When you arrive however you see Jaden already in one of the hot tubs; his elbows resting on the edge, and a cigarette between two fingers. You know it’s a nasty habit and not good for his health but fuck - why does he look so good doing it.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing his attention.

“Shit!” He blows out a mouthful of smoke and ashes the cigarette out on the edge of the hot tub. “Sorry, bad habit, tryna quit. I wasn’t expecting you for like another ten minutes, thought I could sneak one in.”

“No worries,” you smile, stepping into the hot tub with him. “I expected there to be more people out here, thought I’d come early before they filled up.”

“Yeah, same,” he says as you scoot over next to him . “But apparently there’s supposed to be a rainstorm some time tonight, so maybe that’s why. Although I don’t really see why it would matter, like you’re in a bathing suit literally sitting in water anyways.” He shrugs. “So anyways, tell me about yourself. I’m guessing you’re not here on Spring Break too.” He laughs.

“Nope, celebrating my divorce actually,” you admit, holding up your left hand and wiggling your ring finger— a lighter band of flesh, where a ring once sat.

“Ooh brutal, sorry to hear that. Did you guys have kids together?” Jaden asks.

“Dont be. I’m glad it’s over. And yeah twin boys actually. They’re six. My moms watching them while we’re gone.”

“Aww, sweet” he smiles.

“How ‘bout you? I already know you’re here on Spring Break. Sooo ummm—ooh I know, tell me about your tattoos, do they have any special meaning or anything?

“Some I just liked, and some have meaning but this one’s the most important to me,” he points to a scrawling of repeated sentences that goes from his chest down his side. I got it for my best friend Cooper who passed away from fentanyl poisoning last year. I just didn’t know what say, didn’t know what to do after he passed , ya know, it’s like — “ he pauses a moment and swallows hard . “Fuck, I’m sorry. Let’s just talk about something else,”

“Sure, no problem. I understand” you say supportively, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The rest of your conversation is much more happy and upbeat —sharing your favorite movies, music, and books, where you both live and what you do for work. Also telling silly anecdotes about your childhoods, college life, motherhood and so on.

And then the rain starts; which you both agreed was no big deal but, unfortunately this rain is accompanied by thunder and lighting.

“Ugh, I was having a great time talking with you. Sorry the rain cut our little date short.” You say, sounding disappointed as you both quickly exit the hot tub.

“Is that what this was?” He smiles.

“Maybe,” you answer coyly with a shrug and flirty smile.

“If you’re okay with it, you can come back to my cabin and talk a little more, hangout, watch a movie or something,” he suggests. “But I totally understand if you're not comfortable with that. No pressure.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you agree.

***********

“Shit, I just realized I don’t have anything dry to change into” you state upon entering his cabin. “And my rooms like on the complete other side of the ship. Do you have anything I could just throw on for now?”

“Uhhhm, sure,” Jaden looks around the room for something to give you. “Here you can wear this bathrobe,” he says, tossing you the white, terry cloth covering before sitting down on the bed.

In the corner of the room you turn, facing away from Jaden, put on the robe, and then descretly remove your bathing suit from under it.”

“What, no show?” Jaden jokes.

“You don’t wanna see, trust me.” You say, sounding down.

“Oh, but I do,” he laughs, but then stops when he notices you aren’t laughing too. Hey, what’s a matter. I’m just joking.I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable that wasn’t my intention. I don’t want you to think that’s why I invited you back to the room. You don’t have to show me anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that. I’m just really not comfortable in my own skin these days—haven’t been for a while actually. I love my kids to death but let’s just say pregnancy didn’t do my body any favors. You're young, you can have any hott girl with a tight little body. Why would you wanna see mine, it’s nothing to look at, I promise you.”

“I promise you you’re wrong. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

You’re not sure what that consists of exactly, but you nod in agreement anyways. Jaden makes you feel so safe, and you could definitely use a confidence boost.

“C’mere,” Jaden leads you by your hand into the bathroom, and positions you in front of the mirror. “Can I take this off?” He whispers in your ear from behind you, as he places a hand on each of your robe covered shoulders. You meekly nod yes and he slips the garment off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet, leaving you completely nude. You fight the urge to cover yourself but the look of awe in Jaden’s eyes as he surveys your naked body helps melt away some of your insecurity. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breaths against your our neck. “Now what I want you to do is look in the mirror with me,” he instructs. You flick your eyes up to the mirror meeting his in the reflection. “I want you to tell me what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror—give it all to me, the good, the bad, the ugly, then I’m gonna tell you what I see.”

“I see someone I don’t recognize anymore. I used to be pretty, but now I have crows feet by my eyes, and my breasts have lost the perky fullness they had before breastfeeding two kids. It’s been six years and I still haven’t lost all the baby weight,” You poke at your stomach. “And I have this C-section scar from when my body failed to do the one thing it was literally designed to do!“ You start getting emotional. “My hips are so wide now, and my ass is huge , and don’t even get me started on the stretch marks on my inner thighs,” you sigh, holding back tears.

“First of all, you ARE pretty, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous. When I look at your eyes I don’t see crows feet— I see a million smiles and childhood summers spent having fun in the sun,” he says, making you smile. “That’s a million and one now,” he teases playfully. “Now, before I continue, do I have permission to touch you?”

“Permission granted,” you snicker “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to feel your hands on me again,” you admit, blushing.

“And my lips too?” He begins kissing slowly up the side of you neck, making every hair on your body stand on end with arousal.

“Mmmhm, yeah, that too.” You giggle coyly.

“And these,..”he continues, cupping you from behind, “I see breasts that nourished two beautiful babies,and still look plenty perky to me, especially these nipples,” he rolls the buds between his thumbs and pointer fingers. “I love how erect they are for me.” He tugs on them gently before moving his hands to your stomach. “You don’t need to lose a single pound, all I see is curves and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not the 90’s anymore where women had to be rail thin to meet some ridiculous standard of beauty— all bodies are beautiful. And besides you don’t give yourself enough credit for growing two human beings inside you, this was their home for nine months!” He grips your soft belly tightly as he speaks. “And this scar,” he traces his finger over it, causing a ticklish chill to run through you at the ghostly sensation— you still don’t have much feeling there. “This is not a failure, it’s a reminder of how your babies were able to safely enter this world when things didn't go quite as planned.” Your eyes begin to well with tears again, not with sadness, but from the joy of a guy you met less than twenty four hours ago helping you fall back in love with your body and realize all its accomplishments. “And your ass and hips— fuck, that might be my favorite part of your body. Do you know how many women literally pay thousands of dollars to make their hips and ass look like this?” He rubs his hands over the swell of your backside. “It’s literally perfect.” He says with a firm squeeze. “And these—” he places his fingertips on the jagged pink and white lines on your inner thigh and begins to trace them upwards. “These are a map, leading me to where I wanna be the most,” he slides his middle finger through your wetness, “God damn you’re soaked and we’re not even in the pool this time,” he teases. “I think you want me here too, huh?” He begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, “and I mean more than just my fingers this time,” he smirks at you in the mirror before pressing his growing erection against your backside, and his mouth to your neck.

“Mhm, fuck—“ you moan, tilting your head and reaching back to run your hand through his dark hair while he marks you. “Mmmm, Jaden… do you… do you have a condom? I mean, my tubes are tied but—”

“I just got tested before the cruise baby—I’m clean.” He states breathily, before reattaching his lips to your neck, and pulling himself free from his swim trunks with his free hand.

“Okaay,” you moan. “I-I trust you.”

He slips in with ease; both of you releasing a shaky breath at the feeling. And while you haven’t exactly seen his dick yet, you can tell that it’s big.

“Fuccck, you feel incredible!” He nips along your jawline as he begins to thrust — one tattooed hand on your hip and the other, full of your breast, holding you against him so you can watch. He begins with a slow, gentle rhythm, taking his time to fully appreciate your warmth and tightness with each lengthy stroke.

“Ohhhh, Jaden!” You moan breathily.

“Mmmh yeah—am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Ss-so good.” And you mean that in every way- not just sexually.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to see how beautiful you look while I fuck you,” he rasps in your ear.

You watch Jadens thrusts grow more urgent, his hands more hungry as he claws and grabs at every square inch of flesh he can get his hands on. Because of him you’re able to watch unashamed, as your soft body jiggles everytime Jaden’s hips crash against your backside, the movement spurring him on even more. You’re able to see the undeniable desire in his eyes, hear the truth of his words.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy!” He grunts through clenched teeth, increasing the intensity and depth of his pace even more, as he grows close to orgasm.

You grip the bathroom counter in front of you and let your head hang down in overwhelming pleasure. With a firm but gentle hold of your throat, Jaden lifts your head back up to face your reflection.

“Don’t want you to miss the best part,” he teases.

And with one final thrust, he cums hard, filling you to the brim. The warm eruption triggers your own orgasm, splashing against Jaden’s pelvis and dripping down his tattooed thighs.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard before,” you admit after finally catching your breath, your legs still weak and trembling.

“I can believe that,” he laughs looking down at the mess you’ve made of him. “It was so fucking hott though…Shower then room service?”

“Sounds perfect” you smile, stepping into the shower with him.

The shower starts off innocent, with the intent of actually washing up and getting clean but when Jaden asks if he can help wash you, things heat up rather quickly. As he soaps up your breasts you feel something brush press against you and look down.

“Are you really hard again, already? You just came!”

“I’m young, I got the drive and the stamina to go all night if you want,” he smirks.

“I just might have to take you up on that,” you smirk back, reaching to grasp his cock. You give it a few teasing tugs before dropping to your knees.

He watches with his bottom lip between his teeth as you tease your tongue along the underside of his shaft , tracing the vein from hilt to tip. He lets out a low and breathy “Fuck” as the head disappears inside your mouth— the rest of his length soon to follow. He tastes of you, and the scent of chlorine still lingers on his skin, especially when you take him deep, your nose pressed into the neatly trimmed patch of hair on his pelvis. The same patch that was just slightly visible last night above the waistband of his low hung swim trunks. You remember the way your eyes followed his happy trail to it, your mind wondering what was below it. Now just barely twenty four hours later it’s been inside of you; first your pussy and now your mouth. Every bob of your head brings him closer, his pleasure building so much he can’t help but buck his hips, gently fucking into your mouth.

“Ohh, shit —Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He moans out, grabbing the back of your head with both hands holding you in place as he spurts down your throat. “Mhgmmmmmmmmm” he lets out a long and pleasure-filled moan, still pumping his hips in short stokes, enjoying the last tendrils of his orgasm before pulling out. “God damn, that was so good!” He praises your skills, making you blush. “Ok” he starts with a laugh “let’s try this again, shower then room service”

*****************

By the time room service arrives after your shower, you’re at it again, this time riding Jaden in bed— a position you haven’t been brave enough to do in quite some time. You’ve already cum and Jaden is dangerously close when you both hear the faint knock followed by “Room service.”

“Shit, don’t stop,” Jaden whispers to you before shouting to room service “Just—fuck, j-just leave it by the door!”

Another roll of your hips and he’s done for, eyes rolling back, chiseled body twitching under you, calling out your name as he cums for the third time tonight.

*********

“We definitely worked up an appetite,” Jaden laughs looking at all the now completely empty pile of dishes on the room service cart. “You save any room for dessert?”

“No way, I’m stuffed,” you answer.

“Well I did.” Jaden smirks pushing you back down on the bed, and spreading your legs, his head disappearing between your thighs.

“Ohhh Jaden …”

**********

In the morning Jaden wakes before you, he can’t help but watch you sleep, sofly swiping a single knuckle along your cheek as he admires your beauty. The sensation stirs you from your slumber. Your eyes still heavy with sleep blink open and Jaden’s face comes into focus.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Jaden says, his husk, sleep laden, voice sounding so sexy. “It’s just that you're even beautiful when you sleep.”

“S’ok,” You murmur, with a smile. “Gotta get up anyways,my friends are probably wondering where the fuck I am.”

***********

You put your key card to the door of your cabin and the door clanks open rousing your friends from their sleep.

“Shit, what time is it?” Ashley asks, squinting at her phone. “Ten thirty two, sorry we woke up so late. I think me and Liz had a little too much to drink last night. I hope you weren’t bored waiting around for us.” Ashley apologizes. “Have you already been swimming this morning?” she asks noticing you're in a robe with your bathing suit dangling from your hand.

“Wait!” Liz interjects, “That’s the bathing suit you had on when you left for your date with -with that college boy, what’s his face—“

“It’s Jaden” you remind her.

“— you’re just getting back now, aren’t you!! You spent the night!?” Liz exclaims accusingly.

The hue of your cheeks and your guilty smile give you away. You take a seat on the edge of the bed and wait for the slew of questions you know you’re about to get pummeled with.

“Oh my god, did you sleep with him?” Ashley asks.

You answer wordlessly, pulling back the collar of the robe, exposing the numerous wine colored markings that decorate your flesh.

“Jesus! I haven’t seen that many hickeys since highschool” Liz teases. “Ok, spill, how bad was the sex? I’m cringing just looking at your neck.”

“It was honestly the best sex I’ve ever had,” you blushed. “He made me feel like a fucking Goddess!”

“ There’s no way,” Liz scoffs. “How much experience can he even have.” She says with an eyeroll.

“Yeah I’m not buying it either,” Ashley laughs. “C’mom you don’t got to lie to us. We’ve all had our subpar hookups, especially when we were in college. Guys that age are all confidence and no skill.”

“No I’m dead serious, it was amazing!!!” You gush. “And not just his dick, but the way he made me feel…”

You proceed to tell them every detail of last night, from how he praised and appreciated your every flaw and gave you your confidence back, to just how good his dick felt inside you and how talented he was with his mouth and fingers. When you're done talking Liz gets up and starts walking towards the cabin door.

“Where are you going?” You ask perplexed.

“Going to find me one of these college boys” Liz laughs. “Does he have friends?” She jokes, making her way back to the bed. “Seriously though, sorry we teased you, that sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” Ashley agrees. “I’m a little jealous— good dick AND body positivity, sign me the fuck up!”

“What are you guys gonna do when the cruise is over?” Liz asks, “You’ll probably never see eachother again.”

“Oh my god, that’s right! I forgot to tell you guys the best part! Earlier in the night when we were just talking in the hot tub we figured out that he only lives an hour away from us!”

“Holy shit, what a small world, that’s awesome.” Ashley exclaims.

“I’ll tell you what’s not small,” you smirk.

#jaden hossler smut #jaden hossler #jxdn #jxdn smut #Jaden Hossler x reader #jxdn x reader

77 notes · View notes

gothcsz · 7 months ago

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIII.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Exploring the complexities of their relationship, revealing past traumas and personal struggles that deepen their connection.

WORD COUNT: ~10k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: masturbation (m), gun mention/use, substance use (weed and alcohol), mention of suicide, mention of religion, mutual pining, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: oh boy… everyone grab a snack and get cozy because we're getting into the thick of it! a lot of character exposition this chap but i promise it's fun :p also couldn't help myself from making javi and helena a thing (?) 🙈 it just felt right™ lol anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier leans forward, allowing his forehead to gently meet the chill of the shower tiles. Steam envelops the entire bathroom, swirling around him as the warmth of the cascading water embraces his skin.

Every fiber of his being screams against the temptation, but it’s too overwhelming to resist. His mind has been hijacked by lascivious musings since his first flicker of consciousness, and it only intensified with each passing second. The rational part of him had urged for a cold shower to extinguish the smoldering fire, but the primal instinct within demanded something more.

His cock has been throbbing with want since the moment he woke, the crimson head moistened with a droplet of precum. A deep moan escaped his lips as he reached down to ease the tension, but just as he began to feel a rush of pleasure, thoughts of her invaded his mind.

Her laughter a symphony of sensuality.

The warmth in her eyes like a glowing ember, making him feel hot with a desire he’s never experienced before.

The curve of her ass a work of art, a masterpiece that he longed to caress and gently bite down on as he worshipped her body.

And those magnificent tits of hers, god how they had looked that night at the fair, teasing and tempting him with their lusciousness in her corset.

The way she wore low-rise jeans, clinging to her hips like a second skin, had him yearning to leave bruising marks with the press of his fingertips; preferably as he took her from behind, her ass bouncing against his thighs while his dick pistoned into her.

He had halted immediately, his hand retracting swiftly from beneath the sheet as if scalded by its touch. Muttering curses under his breath, he rose with a sense of urgency, the need to cleanse both body and mind propelling him towards the shower to prepare for the day ahead.

Now he’s here, doing his worst to keep the fantasies away. Javier imagines her joining him in the shower, he can almost feel her wet body pressed against his. He envisions her sinking to her knees, wrapping those pouty pink lips around him and taking him deep into her mouth. Feeling her tight throat clenching around him as she gags and struggles to breathe, eagerly swallowing every drop of his release. The temptation is too much to bear, and he surrenders to the sensual daydream.

Fuck, in a slow and deliberate movement, Javier’s hand glides down the contours of his chiseled chest, trailing his soft abdomen until it reaches its ultimate destination. Wrapping his hand around his impressive girth, he begins to stroke himself with a gentle, yet purposeful motion. But no matter how hard he tries to push her from his mind, the thought of Paloma lingers, taunting him. He desperately tries to conjure up memories of past lovers, but none of them compare to the fiery passion that she ignites within him.

She would look so pretty pinned up against the wall, resembling a riveting piece of artwork, as he stuffed his cock deep into her. He wonders whether she could handle him all at once or if he would have to indulge in the slow pleasure of opening her up with his skilled tongue and fingers, coaxing her into a frenzy of orgasmic bliss.

She must taste heavenly, like nectar from a honeysuckle on a warm spring day. Javier’s mouth waters at the thought of exploring her so intimately, getting lost in the sensation of her warm and feeling her wetness smearing all over his lips and jaw. He could almost hear her sweet moans of pleasure as he licked and sucked on her most sensitive spots, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

He’d do it over and over again until she was whining that it was too much and she couldn’t take it anymore.

But she would, he’d make sure of it. He’d be determined to make her succumb to his every desire. Javier would talk her through the waves of pleasure, whispering the filthiest things in her ear and savoring the sound of her dulcet whimpers and melodic moans as she unraveled under his skilled touch.

He knows she’d make the prettiest faces, her swollen lips parting and repeating his name over and over, eyes shut close in which he’d tell her to open those pretty eyes of hers so she could watch him get her off for the umpteen time. He wouldn’t fuck her with his dick, not until he’s made it clear how generous of a lover he is.

He tenses briefly, heavy cock still in his hand as his pace moves from languish movements to quicker flicks of his wrist.

He’s so close, the familiar spark of arousal causing him to shudder as his balls clench with anticipation; images of Paloma, stripped naked and spread out before him in a myriad of sensual scenarios and positions flood his mind, driving him to groan with unbridled passion. His orgasm racks through him harshly, his release coating his fingers in a sticky sheen before vanishing down the drain.

Javier pauses to regain his composure and gather his breath. His forehead remains firmly planted against the tile, and he can’t resist lightly tapping against it as he chastises himself for giving in to the temptation of masturbating to her.

Certainly it’s not uncharted territory for him, yet following the surge of tension between them, he had ceased such indulgences altogether. He hadn’t even had the urge to pleasure himself in weeks.

Today, for some reason, was an exception; marked by the persistent stiffness of morning arousal. His thoughts were fixated on her and his willpower was unwavering.

Javier finishes his shower, emerging from the mist and he envelops his lower-half in a towel. With toothbrush in hand, he diligently tends to brushing his teeth when there’s an unexpected rap at the door. His brows furrow in mild annoyance, curious as to who was seeking him out on his only day off this week.

He lets the towel fall to the ground in his bedroom and he grabs his jeans, sliding them up his legs and foregoing any underwear. In true Javi style. He zips them up yet the button remains unfastened, a deliberate omission.

As he lazily holds his toothbrush in his mouth, he strides towards the front door. It yields to his touch, his initial annoyance gives way to a self-assured smirk, his expression a subtle blend of amusement and satisfaction.

On the weathered porch of his modest trailer, Javier is greeted by Paloma, looking gorgeous as always in a enticing sundress that’s short enough to expose her beautiful long legs. Her hair, styled in a playful half-up, half-down look, frames her face like a delicate masterpiece.

She had hesitated, contemplating turning back when the silence lingered, a creeping doubt whispering that she might have the wrong address. Yet, just as uncertainty began to sway her resolve, Javier emerged, clad in nothing but snug denim, confirming she had indeed arrived precisely where she needed to be.

She couldn’t give a damn if he spotted her ogling him, he had opened the door flaunting his half-nakedness so shamelessly. He’s obviously just stepped out of the shower, his locks damp and tousled in all the right places, droplets of water cascading down his glistening, honeyed torso. It is the first time she’s seen him in such a bare state.

Her intuition had been spot on— he is a chiseled, sculpted hunk of a man.

Seeing him in the flesh is making her legs tremble with desire and causing a delightful dampness to form between her thighs.

Only when her gaze traces the tantalizing tuft of hair that begins at his belly and vanishes beneath the fabric of his jeans, does she feel the heat rising within her. The bulge of his cock is unmistakable, and she can’t help but gulp audibly as she takes in the impressive girth straining against his left thigh.

Her mouth waters, literally.

“Nena, ¿qué haces aquí? (Baby what are you doing here?)” His voice oozes with smugness, relishing the familiar thrill of eliciting such reactions from women. Yet to provoke such a response from her, in particular, sends his ego soaring to new heights.

“The library is having a bake sale…” She starts, eyes still fixated on his crotch before it snaps up to meet his lustful stare. “I’m goin’ door to door sellin’ my cookies to help out.” Which is true, yet when she had seen his home address on the list of places to visit— obviously she’d made sure to stop by here first.

“Is that so?” He muses, just now realizing that she’s got a small container in her hand, “Do you want to come in?”

The question hangs between them, both insatiably horny yet dead set on not crossing the sexual threshold of their friendship.

“Sure.”

With a gentlemanly gesture, he moves aside, granting her entrance. She mutters a soft thank you, gripping onto the container in her hand to keep herself together.

The aroma of his body wash, infused with hints of mint from the fresh toothpaste, envelops her senses; a potent concoction that she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.

While she’s always appreciated the fragrance of a good cologne, the impact of Javier’s scent surpasses any previous encounter, leaving her captivated in a way she’s never experienced before.

“Gonna finish gettin’ ready. Be right back.” He tells her plainly, walking off into his room and this allows her to have a second to breathe, steadying herself on the back of his couch as she gives herself a little pep talk before she hears him coming in again.

“ Santa María por favor dame the strength not to fu— sleep this man.” She whispers in a sacrilegious prayer, straightening her posture when he re-emerges.

“So… you baked?”

Javi’s sporting an old DEA t-shirt, the lettering a bit faded due to time along with those cursed tight jeans. He looks so hot, she begins to wonder if not fucking him is even worth it at all.

It is worth it. You have a date coming up with a guy your age and getting involved with Javier will just bring you more problems than peace. Plus, you like being his friend. Sleeping with him will only fuck that up. Her conscience reminds her, following after him as he leads her deeper into the small home.

“Mhm, stayed up all night putting blood, sweat and tears into these. There’s a point in between batches where I blacked out and fell asleep at the counter so I don’t claim the ones that are slightly burnt. I didn’t have the heart to toss ‘em.”

“Not only are these made out of blood, sweat and tears— but they’re burnt too. Huh...”

Now in his kitchen, the confined space amplifies their proximity. She perches on a stool beside the compact counter, her gaze fixed on him as he unlids the container.

His eyes flicker between her and the tempting contents of her baked goods. “Some bake sale you’re putting on.”

His teasing has her playfully rolling her eyes, “Not all of them. Just some of the oatmeal raisin ones.”

“Good riddance.”

“I think you purposefully hate on all the snacks I enjoy.”

“No, querida, you just have shitty taste in snacks.” Javi remarks, tempted to include a jab about her taste in men as well, yet opting to withhold that comment. For now.

“And you have shitty taste in decorations. Jeez, cowboy, are you even a real person?” She quips, critiquing the lack of character in his living space. It resembles a generic model home, seemingly plucked from a showcase and deposited in the midst of nowhere.

“Sometimes I ask myself that same question.” He shrugs, reaching for one of the more inviting looking desserts but she slaps at his hand.

“You have to pay for them first.”

“How much for the whole damn thing?” Leaning in on his elbows, he meets her halfway, their gazes locked in a silent exchange, each peering into the depths of the other’s brown eyes.

With a subtle narrowing of her own gaze, she communicates a silent message, her expression betraying a hint of playful challenge.

She gives him the price, he nods.

“Let me go get my wallet.” As he turns away and strides into the living room, her gaze remains fixed on him, engrossed by the way his shirt hugs his muscular frame and accentuates every ripple of his back. She can’t help but feel a flutter in her chest as she watches him go.

She lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling as if she’s fawning over a celebrity heartthrob.

Paloma looks around the plain space, a little disappointed that she won’t be able to decipher his character based on the decor he had.

When he returns, she can’t help but ask why it’s so empty.

“‘Cause I don’t plan on bein’ here long enough to call this place home.” Javier responds, his words carrying a straightforward, pragmatic tone. Yet, despite their simplicity, they strike her with unexpected force, shattering the illusion she has harbored.

Why did she assume he would just… stay? Surely after helping her father out as much as he could, he’d be packing up and moving on to his next assignment.

The weight of reality tightens its grip around her heart, yet she maintains a composed facade, her outward demeanor a mask of serenity as she nods in understanding.

“Right, right. Makes sense… how long do you plan on stickin’ around?” She attempts to pose her question with an air of nonchalance, though beneath the facade, a creeping sense of dread begins to take hold as she awaits his response.

He doesn’t offer it immediately, sensing the subtle change in her demeanor, prompting him to pause and consider his words carefully. “Not sure, hermosa.” It remains simple and nebulous, as he too finds himself uncertain of the answer to that very question.

In an attempt to change the subject, he slides the money over to her, “Now can I have one?”

She exhales slowly, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, offering him a tentative smile, “Knock yourself out.”

She takes the bills from him while he casually selects one of the cookies, indulging in a bite and emitting a contented hum of approval at the flavor. “ Not bad, “ He remarks succinctly, and she can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at his underwhelming critique.

“Really? That’s all I get? ‘Not bad’? I stayed up all night making these— I think I deserve more than just ‘Not bad’.”

A chuckle escapes him at her reaction, finding her response utterly adorable. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he takes another deliberate bite of the cookie, adopting a thoughtful expression as if pondering its flavor with exaggerated seriousness. “The flavor profile is so… decadent. The richness of the chocolate is just superb—”

“Okay, well, if you’re going to be an asshole about it then never mind.” She crosses her arms against her chest with mock indignation, though a playful glint dances in her eyes; amused by their banter.

He shakes his head at her, finishing off the treat with a satisfied smirk.

“It was very delicious, muñeca. Is there anything you’re not good at?” Javier asks, genuine admiration coloring his words since she seems to excel at any task that’s presented to her.

With a snort, she retorts, “Yeah, how much time do you have?” Her mind swirls with a litany of frustrations—her failed attempts at nurturing a fucking vegetable garden, the relentless battle to suppress her feelings for him, her inability to stand up to her father.

The list goes on and on, but she keeps her struggles to herself. The version of herself that lives in Javier’s mind, the one that’s perfect and can do no wrong, one she’d like to preserve as long as possible. Especially since he wasn’t planning on residing in Seminary long-term.

Javier chuckles in response, letting his gaze soften, “You’re too tough on yourself, Paloma. You should give yourself more credit.” She can’t help but feel a hint of bashfulness creeping over her as he says this, twirling a tendril of her hair around her manicured fingertip absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on Javier with a mixture of amusement and affection.

Their playful conversation weaves through the air like a melody, punctuated by laughter and laced with a subtle undercurrent of flirtation, creating an atmosphere that feels as light and comforting as a summer breeze.

“Ever held a gun before?” He asks, noticing how her gaze had trailed over to where his pistol and badge sat on the opposite side of the counter.

Paloma’s eyes had only lingered on the objects because she remembered how sexy he’d looked last Sunday while apprehending Mr. Thorton.

She has to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together to release some of the pressure of her arousal as she recalls it. Her lack of underwear having some of her wetness smear against her inner thighs.

At his question, though, a very mischievous idea suddenly pops into her head.

“Nope. Daddy has always been paranoid about all that.” It’s a lie that slips effortlessly from her lips, despite the fact that her father had been very serious about gun safety and had taught her how to shoot at a young age. In fact, she’s quite capable of disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling a weapon with precision.

But Javier doesn’t need to know this. Not yet, at least.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t offer to teach you a thing or two.”

Paloma snorts, “Oh c’mon. I’m a grown woman livin’ in an open carry state. I should learn how to use one… all things considered too…” She alludes to the homicide cases and the current missing girl.

Javier wets his lower lip, contemplating his next move. She makes a good point, it wouldn’t hurt for her to know her way around the weapon and he’s surprised that her father hasn’t at least given her a few pointers with how paranoid he is that something is going to happen to her.

Still, he doesn’t want to overstep the elder man… but really, he’s already overstepped when he came all over his hand earlier while thinking of fucking the sherrif’s daughter.

She’s also proactively requesting for him to teach her, showing her own determination and initiative in the matter.

“Fine. I’ll meet you in the backyard.” He acquiesces, pushing himself away from the counter. He snags one more cookie from the container before disappearing down the hallway.

Her eyes sparkle with excitement as his agreement sinks in, eager to see his reaction when she unveils her little secret to him. She springs off the stool, sliding open the glass door leading to the backyard. Shielding her face from the intense sunlight, she steps outside, ready to embark on this unexpected activity with Javier.

From the back porch, Paloma observes him as he arranges an assortment of targets, using miscellaneous items he had gathered from around his home: empty beer bottles, a vase that had long irked him with its presence, and other odds and ends.

Once he finishes, they stand side by side, facing the trunk of his police cruiser, which he had pulled around to park in the backyard. The trunk is open, revealing the duffle bag of firearms issued to every officer. Javier gestures for Paloma to make her selection, his expression a mixture of anticipation and encouragement.

“Hm,” Paloma muses, tapping her chin as if in deep contemplation before pointing to the double-barrel shotgun.

Javier is slightly taken aback by her choice, but he swiftly retrieves the shotgun from the bag, along with a handful of shells. “ This one’s pretty heavy. Sure you can handle it, palomita?” he asks, a condescending tone lacing his words.

“Trust me, I can handle it.” she responds confidently, her tone carrying a subtle salacious edge. With a sweet smile directed at Javier, she turns and strides confidently towards the shooting area he had prepared.

He stills, muttering how fucked he is before following after her.

“The kickback is stronger with these. You’ll need to get used to the weight and recoil.”

His movements with the gun are graceful and assured. Her breath hitches as she watches in awe, her lips parting slightly as she bites down on the plump flesh, trying to contain the moan that threatens to escape.

Javier’s hands look massive as they wrap around the gun, and she can’t help but imagine those same hands wrapped around her body, exploring every inch with the same precision and mastery. The way he breaks the shotgun open and loads the shells, his fingers flexing and tensing with each movement has heat rising within her, aching for his touch.

It’s not just the scorching southern temperature that has her feeling hot all over, but the raw, primal desire that he ignites within her with just a simple gesture.

He possesses an effortless confidence that Paloma finds undeniably alluring. As he adjusts his aviator sunglasses and gestures towards the items scattered across the horizon, his gravelly voice resonates with authority and charm.

“Take a deep breath in, then slowly exhale. Point at the target, squeeze the trigger and shoot. Remember, the kickback can be pretty intense so brace yourself for that.”

He looks so handsome following his own instructions, easily shooting down that hideous vase and a beer bottle, causing them to shatter in pieces. The shots echoes out into the vast area, a few birds flying by.

Javier looks over at her, reloading the shotgun before handing it to her carefully, the safety switched on. “Your turn, nena.”

Paloma, with her piercing gaze and a mischievous smile playing on her lips, feigns innocence as she takes the gun from him. Though she is well-versed in handling firearms, she willingly allows Javier to guide her, relishing the opportunity to draw closer to him under the guise of naivety.

She purposefully handles it oddly which has him pressing flush against her back as he guides her hands into the right position. It takes everything in her not to lean back against him, the breeze that passes by paired with his proximity sends a shiver down her spine, the scent of gunpowder mingling with his rugged masculinity and cologne has her damn near whimpering; but she’s able to suppress the noise before it slips up her throat.

“Remember: Aim, squeeze and shoot.” He nudges her leg apart slightly with his knee, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly at the gesture, “And keep yourself grounded. You’re not stupid, so handle this thing carefully. Don’t want you blowing off half of that pretty face.”

He takes a few steps back, partially to watch her shoot but also because he felt his cock hardening when he pressed himself against her. Feeling the softness of her ass against his crotch was derailing, and it didn’t help that the flimsy fabric of her sundress is thin so he could feel that she wasn’t wearing any fucking panties. He digs into his back pocket to retrieve his pack of smokes, in desperate need of one.

Under Javier’s watchful eye, Paloma raises the shotgun, feeling the weight of it in her hands as she aims at the first target. She switches the safety off, following his instructions (ones she was already aware of) and she keeps the act up, studying the items before her.

After a few moments of doing nothing, Javier speaks up.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to shoot?”

His words spur her into action, a determined glint in her eyes as she readies herself to take aim at the remaining bottles.

But just as she is about to pull the trigger, a sudden flurry of birds burst into the sky, their wings slicing through the air with graceful precision. A smirk dances upon her lips as she swiftly adjusts her stance, the shotgun now pointed skyward with a fluid motion that bespoke her expertise.

In a seamless display of skill and confidence, she tracks the path of the birds with unwavering focus, her finger poised on the trigger. With a steady breath, she squeezes it, unleashing a resounding crack then another that echo across the open expanse. Two birds plummet from the sky in a graceful arc, their feathers ruffling in the wind as they spiraled towards the earth.

Javier watches in awe, unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips, his admiration for her prowess evident in the curve of his growing smile. In that moment, he can’t help but feel a newfound sense of admiration for her.

She wasn’t eager to learn; she was already a master of the fucking craft.

And as she lowers the shotgun, her eyes sparkling with triumph, Javier knows that he has found a kindred spirit in this enamoring woman named Paloma.

He realizes he’s been played a fool, yet his amusement outweighs any sense of annoyance. There is something oddly endearing about the way she had outsmarted him, a playful gleam in her eye that he can’t help but admire.

Her laughter rings out like music in the warm morning air.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” He says as she beams back at him, pride evident in every line of her expression.

“Daddy’s been on the force since before I was born.” She explains, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “‘Course he taught me, his only child, how to shoot.” Turning to face him fully, she deftly flicks the safety on the firearm before extending it back to him with practiced ease.

“And we used to go duck huntin’ all the time,” She continues, her words carrying the weight of memories shared with her father. “S’how I got good at shootin’ moving targets. You ever been?” Her question hangs in the air, accompanied by a curious tilt of her head.

Javier feels a sense of déjà vu wash over him at her words, a fleeting flashback to that day outside La Catedral with Steve playing out in his mind vividly.

No I have not been duck hunting…. You… fucking hillbilly.

He won’t call her that, though.

“Nope, never been.”

“We should go one day. Y’know, if you stick around long enough.”

Javier senses that their earlier conversation about his impending departure from town did not sit well with her. A small, narcissistic part of him takes pleasure in the knowledge that she will miss him when he eventually leaves.

Their flirtatious banter fills the air like the crack of gunfire, each moment building upon the next as they continue to spend the rest of the morning in each other’s company— shooting at empty beer bottles to pass the time. With each shot fired and each shared smile, the connection between Javier and Paloma deepens, their playful teasing masking a burgeoning attraction that neither could deny.

As the sun reaches its high point, harshly casting its rays across the landscape, they find themselves lost in each other, the shotgun forgotten as they head inside to escape the merciless Seminary summer heat.

“Why do you keep your gun against your lower back?” Paloma asks, sitting on top of the kitchen counter as Javier pours both of them a glass of water.

“Outta habit. Feels more comfortable and secure back there.” He hands her the glass and she thanks him softly, taking a large gulp.

He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his own glass in his hand as he observes her. She tilts her head back ever so slightly, the sun-kissed sheen of sweat adding a ravishing glow to her skin after spending all morning outside.

As Javier’s gaze falls upon Paloma’s exposed forearms, his heart sinks at the sight of the bruises marring her delicate skin. The memory of the chaotic scene at the church floods back—the ramblings of Mr. Thorton, consumed by grief and intoxicated by sorrow, as he roughly seized Paloma in his anguish. The bruises now serve as a reminder of that harrowing encounter, igniting a protectiveness within Javier.

“I didn’t know he grabbed onto you so harshly.” While Javi is sympathetic towards the drunken man considering the unfortunate circumstances— he shouldn’t have put his hands on her the way that he did.

Paloma’s fingers drift absently towards the bruised area, her movements gentle as she brushes over it, her shoulders lifting in a subtle shrug. “It’s nothin’ compared to what they’re going through,” She murmurs softly, her voice trailing off with a tinge of melancholy. The memory of the man’s shattered demeanor weighs on her, reminding her of the profound sadness that had consumed him that day.

Despite the drunken ramblings, the accusatory tone, and the way he laid blame on the entire town for failing his daughter; she didn’t harbor any resentment towards him for his outburst.

While she acknowledges that aggressively approaching her was not the wisest choice, she understands that it was a momentary lapse fueled by grief and alcohol.

Her father had sternly lectured her when she revealed her lack of animosity towards Mr. Thorton and her willingness to forgive him despite his lack of apology. Romeo had been infuriated by his daughter’s empathy, unable to comprehend her capacity for forgiveness in the face of such an incident.

“Still, he was out of line for even—”

“He was drunk out of his mind, Javier. His daughter was brutally murdered and mutilated. Do you all just expect him and his wife to snap back to normal after a few weeks?” Paloma’s words carry an edge, her tone unintentionally sharp, but Javier can see the underlying pain in her eyes.

His own demeanor relaxes slightly, reeling as he realizes she’s not aiming her frustration at him specifically. His gaze reflects understanding rather than irritation as he silently reassures her that he had no intention of pissing her off.

“A death like that breaks families. It’s happening to the Thortons right before our very eyes.” She reflects after a pause, briefly considering the idea of confiding in Javier about her own experiences with loss, particularly concerning her mother.

She recalls the turbulent times following her mother’s death, the strain it placed on her relationship with her father, and the wounds it left in their family dynamic.

Fortunately, Romeo had managed to pull himself (somewhat) together before things escalated too far between them.

However, discussing her mother remains a sensitive topic, one that Paloma avoids whenever possible. Her suicide was a painful and perplexing event, leaving Paloma grappling with unanswered questions and a sense of profound loss.

As a confused and grief-stricken teenager, she had immersed herself in psychology texts, searching for understanding and consolation on the topic of depression and suicide, but finding nothing that truly resonated with her mother’s peculiar situation.

She blinks, dispelling her thoughts, realizing she has no intention of burdening Javier—or anyone else, for that matter—with her baggage. The memory of her last attempt to confide in someone, the priest at church, surfaces, and she suppresses a sigh of frustration. His well-meaning yet ultimately dismissive response, a canned platitude about finding solace in God, had left her feeling even more isolated in her grief.

It honestly pissed her off.

“That’s just how it is sometimes, querida. A shitty fucking side effect to the whole thing. We can’t do anything about it.”

There’s a depth to her that she keeps carefully hidden, yet Javier can discern it with ease. It manifests in the subtle shifts of her body language, the fleeting emptiness that briefly clouds her gaze, and the sudden defensiveness she displayed when discussing the situation.

Despite her attempts to conceal it, her words are laced with emotion, carrying a weight of sentiment and understanding that hints at the complexities that lurk.

There’s a story hidden behind that guarded stare, waiting to be unveiled.

He won’t grant himself the selfish desire to be the one to unveil it. He doesn’t feel worthy of being the person Paloma entrusts with her deepest vulnerabilities, believing he doesn’t deserve such intimacy from her.

Javier’s pragmatic nature is deeply ingrained, a fundamental aspect of his character that permeates every aspect of his life. It’s a quality that serves him well in his profession, enabling him to approach his duties with efficiency and precision.

Yet, this same pragmatism often proves to be a barrier when it comes to offering comfort to others. He struggles to connect on an emotional level, his rational mind grappling with the intricacy of human emotions in a way that feels foreign to him.

While he excels in navigating practicalities, he finds himself struggling when faced with the nuances of empathy and compassion.

It’s not that Javier is devoid of either emotions; rather, he has a hard time navigating them. He possesses a depth of feeling, but lacks the finesse in managing and expressing them.

A contemplative silence settles between them, each absorbed in their own internal musings.

She feels his stare but she doesn’t waver, instead changing the subject,“I’m sure you’ve heard about Jonah Abbott’s birthday party?”

Ah, Jonah Abbott, the remarkably young Mayor of Seminary, Texas. Descending from a lineage steeped in politics and law, his ascension to office undoubtedly owes much to familial connections and the influence of nepotism.

Javier’s disdain for him is palpable, despite only encountering the man once. Jonah had stormed into the station, insisting that everyone attend his birthday celebration. His subsequent demand for case updates and entitled behavior when things didn’t align with his expectations had left a sour taste in Javier’s mouth, solidifying his opinion of him as nothing more than an insufferable individual.

Javi had intended to skip out on the party altogether, but after Romeo practically demanded his presence there, he quickly realized that dodging the event was simply not an option.

“Unfortunately I have,” He says sardonically, finishing off his water, “Though I’d rather be anywhere else. Big parties have never been my thing, especially when the night is centered on schmoozing with asshole politicians.”

“Asshole politicians….” She smirks at him, “So you’ve met him? He’s… a piece of work. I have no idea why or how daddy tolerates him.”

Paloma doesn’t mention the many advances the man has made on her and how she’s had to politely decline him each time. He wasn’t unattractive, he held some kind of Kennedy-esque handsomeness but man was he ignorant and flashy as all hell.

His opulent mansion and foreign cars speak volumes about his personal wealth, yet she can’t help but wish he would invest as much in supporting his town as he does in his own pursuits.

“I’ve had to deal with men like that too many times over the years. Just when you think they can’t get any worse— they do. It’s like they outdo themselves. Fuckin’ annoying pricks. They only get worse with age, too.”

Javier’s verbal outpouring inadvertently provides Paloma with an opportunity—a chance to delve deeper into his past experiences, particularly his days with the DEA. Sensing an opening, she seizes the moment to probe for insights into his former life, hoping to gain a better understanding of the man behind the badge.

“Who’s the worst one you’ve met?”

The first name that pops into his mind is Bill Stechner. “CIA asshole back in Colombia. But you could really trade in any fucker from either government and it’d all be one in the same. They’re all contenders for worst human beings on the fuckin’ planet.”

Her brows raise in interest, “It still amazes me how you’ve literally worked such an important and uppity job. How the fuck did you end up here, cowboy?” It’s a rhetorical question but it still has him sucking in a breath.

As always, Paloma’s keen observance doesn’t go unnoticed. The spark of curiosity ignites within her, kindling a desire to unravel the layers of Javier’s enigmatic persona. Yet, she exercises caution, mindful not to overstep boundaries or pry too deeply into his guarded past.

She sets down her empty glass, hopping off the counter and smoothing her dress down. “I guess I should get outta your hair and head back into town. I had a lotta fun this mornin’. Thank you for supportin’ the library… and for teachin’ me how to shoot.” She remarks playfully with a wink as he walks her to the door.

“Well, you were a very easy student. A natural.”

Leaning casually against the door frame, Javier’s gaze remains fixed on Paloma as she retreats backward towards her car. Despite the distance between them, their eyes never waver, locked in a silent exchange of unspoken sentiments.

“I’ll see you around.”

Javier’s gaze drifts idly over the scattered papers before him, the weight of boredom evident in the blank stare he casts upon them.

With a heavy sigh, he resigns himself to the monotony of the graveyard shift, flanked by two younger deputies who share his weary disposition. The quaint confines of the department offer little respite from the tedium, with the only source of distraction being a TV cart positioned at the center of the room, broadcasting an old Astros vs. Mets baseball game.

As the flickering images dance across the screen, Javier’s mind wanders, yearning for something—anything—to break the dullness of the night.

He’d lost interest in the game fairly quickly, turning his focus to the mound of paperwork that has steadily amassed on his desk over the past few days.

However, even the prospect of tackling the administrative tasks failed to hold his interest for long, leaving him adrift in a sea of ennui.

As he rubs at his tired eyes, preparing to rise and seek respite in a smoke break outside, the shrill ring of the phone slices through the quiet of the room. His movements freeze, instinctively drawn to answer the call that interrupts his escape.

“Seminary Sheriff’s Department.”

“Those damn kids are on my property again!”

Javier has to pull the receiver from his ear slightly as the loud yet croaky voice of Arthur Reynolds reverberates through the line.

The elderly man boasts a lineage that traces back to one of the town’s founding families. As a result, he holds vast swathes of land across the area, including a picturesque field of sunflowers that has become a local attraction.

The vibrant blooms draw the attention of passersby, who often linger to admire their beauty. However, Reynolds views their presence as an intrusion, and he isn’t shy about expressing his discontent.

Constantly vigilant, he frequently calls upon the authorities to address the perceived trespassers. Due to his advanced age rendering him incapable of intimidating others into compliance, it falls upon individuals like Javier to enforce Reynolds’ will, ensuring that his domain remains undisturbed.

“Can you be a little more specific, sir.” Javi says in a monotone voice

“How specific I gotta be? S’a group of them drinkin’ and smokin’ around a campfire. Gonna light my goddamn field ablaze. You besta come shut it down and arrest these punks before I go down there myself and cause a ruckus.”

That’s the last thing Javier needs, for the town to burn down on his watch. He begrudgingly acknowledges the validity of the old man’s complaints, recognizing that there is merit to Reynolds’ concerns for once.

“No need for that, an officer will be there soon.” As the phone call concludes, Javier briefly considers dispatching the deputies to handle the situation, viewing it as an opportunity for them to gain some experience.

However, a sense of caution tugs at him, wary of the potential risks involved in sending inexperienced officers into the field late at night. Ultimately, he opts to take matters into his own hands in case anything goes awry.

Donning his department-issued bomber jacket and ensuring his utility belt is fully equipped, Javier swiftly heads for the door. With a sense of purpose, he offers a brief explanation for his departure to the two deputies engrossed in the baseball game before stepping out into the night.

Not much after does Javier find himself navigating the winding dirt path that cuts through the heart of the sunflower field. Towering stalks of golden blooms loom on either side, casting elongated shadows in the dim light of the moon. With a flick of a switch, he illuminates the headlights of the cruiser, their beams slicing through the darkness ahead. The soft glow of a distant bonfire comes into view, beckoning him forward as he makes his way towards the source of the disturbance.

As the piercing lights of the cruiser illuminate the scene, a sense of urgency grips the group of young adults, prompting them to scatter in all directions like startled deer fleeing from a predator.

Amidst the chaos, Paloma lies sprawled on the ground on her back, her gaze fixed upon the expanse of the dark sky overhead, where the full moon casts its radiant glow upon the night.

She’d successfully snuck out of her house and into old man Reynolds’s sunflower field. August assured her they were just eight feet shy of his property line—technically absolving them of any trespassing allegations.

The appeal of an impromptu bonfire, fueled by August’s persuasive phone call the night before, proved irresistible to Paloma. It didn’t take much convincing to coax her into joining the group, the thrill of rebellion emboldening her for the night that lay ahead.

Paloma found herself indulging in more alcohol than she is accustomed to, her inhibitions loosened by the camaraderie of her friends. Peer pressure led her to experiment further, as she hesitantly joined August, Sloane, and Gabriel in sharing a joint. The unfamiliar sensation of the smoke tickled her throat, triggering a fit of coughing that betrayed her novice status in the realm of smoking weed.

“Easy, little dove.” August’s voice was gentle, his hand tracing soothing circles on Paloma’s back as she recovered from her coughing fit. With patience and care, he guided her through the process, demonstrating the proper technique for smoking. His gaze lingered on her lips as she tentatively wrapped them around the filtered tip, his attention a mixture of guidance and something more difficult to discern.

The combined effects of alcohol and weed have her feeling as if she were floating outside of her own body, disconnected from the reality unfolding around her. Time blurred and details became hazy as the evening wore on. Before she knew it, August and a select few had departed, leaving her to her own devices— a directive she barely recalls amidst her altered state.

“We’ll be back later. You just stay put and enjoy yourself.” August’s voice echoed in her mind as she found herself lost in a swirl of sensations.

The alcohol infused her with a sense of giddiness and warmth, while the weed enveloped her in a cloud of lightness and euphoria.

The mention of cops jolt Paloma out of her intoxicated stupor, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. With a sudden burst of urgency, she propels herself into a seated position, cursing under her breath as she struggles to gain her footing. Every movement feels sluggish and disjointed, as if she were wading through molasses in her attempt to confront whatever impending threat was approaching.

Had her father discovered her absence, realizing she had slipped out into the night and now found herself high as a kite?

Amidst the flurry of activity, someone had hastily extinguished the crackling flames of the bonfire, leaving her disoriented and stumbling in the darkness. With nothing but the ethereal glow of the moonlight to guide her, she found herself left in the eerie stillness of the night as she navigates the shadowy landscape.

Javier steps out of his cruiser, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the darkness as he surveys the deserted scene. The group had scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving him with an empty field and a sinking sense of slight frustration.

With a resigned sigh, he turns to head back to his vehicle, his mind already drifting towards the paperwork awaiting him back at the station.

But then, a faint sound catches his attention— a soft shuffling emanating from the darkness nearby. Instinctively, he whirls around, directing the beam of his flashlight towards the source of the noise.

His eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of Paloma, tentatively emerging from the sea of sunflowers with her hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice cuts through the night, tinged with concern and exasperation as he surveys her unsteady form. His gaze narrows as he takes in her swaying movements, a frown etching across his features. “Are you drunk?”

Her relief is palpable at the sight of Javier standing before her, his presence a welcome reprieve from the uncertainty that had gripped her moments earlier. She offers him a sheepish smile, grateful for his familiar face and not that of one of the jackass deputies.

“Er... just a little,” She admits with a giggle, her hands lowering slowly as she squints against the harsh beam of his flashlight. “Could you, like, point that thing elsewhere? M’gonna go blind.” Her words are punctuated by a hiccup, her steps unsteady as she inches closer to him.

As she draws near, Javier catches a distinct scent in the air— the familiar aroma of smoke from the bonfire mixed with something altogether less innocent.

It’s a scent he knows all too well from his days as a DEA agent, the unmistakable odor of marijuana lingering on her. With a sinking feeling, he takes in the bloodshot, droopy eyes of the girl before him, irritation welling within him.

“Are you high, too?” He knows all too well the allure of drugs, having spent years chasing down those who peddled them on the streets. Yet, seeing her caught up in such activities strikes a chord within him, stirring up a complex mix of emotions that he struggles to reconcile.

“Maybe,” she drawls the word out, her voice laced with a playful edge. “Why? Are you a narc? Oh, wait... you are. A certified and official narc.” Her words are punctuated by another bout of giggles and hiccups, the sound grating on Javier’s nerves. It’s a familiar insult, one that cuts a little too close to home given August had called him the same thing not too long ago.

“Who were you out here with?” Javier demands, his frustration evident as he flicks off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness save for the soft glow of the moon overhead and the headlights of his car.

“Some friends,” Paloma replies with a careless shrug, her tone nonchalant. “Come on, officer, why does it matter? We were just having fun… and technically we’re eight feet from the property line so we weren’t trespassing.”

Some friends. The implication hangs heavy in the air, a not-so-subtle reminder of her recent association with August and his clique. A storm of conflicting emotions that threatens to cloud his judgment as he struggles to maintain his composure in the face of her nonchalant demeanor.

“Why does it matter?” He scoffs, “Public intoxication. Illicit drug use. Disturbance of the public peace or the peace of others. I can keep going.” His jaw clenches tightly, his words laden with the weight of authority as he lists off a litany of potential charges. Many of them are familiar to him, recurring offenses he’s seen in the files of the company she’s recently decided to keep.

She rolls her eyes dismissively, her confidence undeterred by his stern demeanor. “Oh please. We both know you’re not really going to bring me in for any of that.” she retorts, her voice dripping with of sarcasm and self-assurance.

The idea of Javier restraining her sends a thrill coursing through her veins. The image of his body pressed against hers, the sensation of the cold metal restraints encircling her wrists— it’s all too tantalizing to resist. Yet, even in her intoxicated state, a small voice of reason whispers in the back of her mind, urging her to exercise caution.

A fleeting impulse tugs at her to reach out and touch him, to feel the solid warmth of his chest beneath her fingertips. But a sobering sense of restraint holds her back, the knowledge that such a gesture would only complicate an already precarious situation.

“I’m not entertaining this. Get in the car, I’m taking you home,” He asserts, his tone firm as he turns away from Paloma, intent on ending the conversation then and there. But before he can take a single step, her hand shoots out to grasp at his elbow, her acrylic nails digging into the fabric of his bomber jacket.

“Wait, not I can’t go home yet. Not like this,” Paloma pleads, her voice tinged with desperation as she realizes the gravity of her situation. Though she’s sobered up somewhat since Javier’s arrival, the thought of sneaking back into her house in her current inebriated state fills her with dread.

His gaze flickers down to where she’s holding onto him, his expression unreadable as he weighs his options. “Shoulda thought about that before you came out here and fucked yourself up.”

Feeling a surge of annoyance bubbling up within her, she retracts her grasp, her fists clenching at her sides as she meets Javier’s gaze with steely determination. “Okay, fine. Whatever— I’ll just wait for August to come back and he’ll take me home,” she declares with defiance.

The mention of his name sparks an unexpected surge of possessiveness and jealousy within Javier, if he tightens his jaw any further; he might dislocate it. Though he tries to mask his emotions, the tension in his stance betrays his inner turmoil, leaving her to wonder what thoughts are swirling behind his unreadable facade.

“That’ll be worse for you in the off chance that you get caught. Now get in the car so we can get you some food and sober you up. I’m taking you home.” Javier asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he gestures towards the passenger seat of the still-running police cruiser.

He watches intently as she hesitates for a moment before reluctantly stomping her way around the car and sliding into the seat.

The ride into town is filled with an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of static emanating from the police radio as Javier relays updates to the officers back at the station. She sits with her arms crossed defiantly, her body angled away from him as she stares out of the window, lost in her own high thoughts.

Pulling into the diner parking lot, Javier instructs her to stay put as he exits the vehicle and disappears inside the restaurant. He quickly places an order for a simple meal, then returns with a takeaway bag in hand, his expression unreadable as he hands it to her through the open window.

Now parked at the further end of the driveway, the silhouette of the Leighton family home looms in the distance.

“Thanks for the food..” she murmurs gratefully as they lean against the closed trunk of the police cruiser, the aroma of the meal enticing her high senses as she quite literally begins to devour its contents.

Javier remains silent, allowing the tension from earlier to gradually dissipate as they stand together in the quiet stillness of the night. The only sounds that fill the air are the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Feeling more like herself now, she greedily slurps the remaining contents of her root beer through the straw before setting it aside. She waits for a moment, studying Javier’s side profile before offering an apology.

“I shouldn’t have gotten such an attitude with you back there. You were just doing your job... and if it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I’ve done anything like this.” She confesses, her tone tinged with sincerity.

He runs his knuckles along his jaw, briefly glancing over at her and meeting her gaze. He can’t help but soften at her words, releasing some of the tension that had been coiled within him.

“Just looking out for you. You never know what kind of mess you’ll get into with a crowd like that,” he admits, his tone gentle yet firm.

“A crowd like that?” She repeats, brows furrowing slightly and feeling a twinge of offense on behalf of August and the others.

“Let’s not be daft, querida. Your friends like trouble— what lost twenty-something-year old doesn’t? I’m not trying to piss you off, I’m just being realistic.”

She just hums in acknowledgement, choosing to focus on the remaining fry in her container to avoid further confrontation.

“You ever been in love, cowboy?” Paloma’s sudden question feels like a punch in the gut, catching him off guard.

He stumbles over his words, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in conversation. “I— sorry, how did we go from that,” he gestures vaguely to their previous discussion, “to this?”

“By changing the subject. I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she replies nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as she crumples up her napkin and tosses all her trash into the takeaway bag.

Javier pokes his tongue against his cheek, contemplating her question for a moment before reaching for the cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jacket. What the hell, he’ll indulge her. “Yes... no... I don’t know,” he finally answers, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag.

“All of the above?” She tilts her head, adjusting her denim mini skirt and straightening her cropped camisole.

Javier inhales deeply before continuing. “Before I left for Colombia, I was set to get married.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she leans in closer, eager for more details. “What happened?” she asks, her curiosity palpable as she watches him intently.

The Javier Peña, known for his charismatic ways and romantic escapades, suddenly bound to one woman in the most profound display of commitment. Oh, she’s intrigued beyond measure.

“Couldn’t go through with it. I thought I loved her, Lorraine, but then I realized that I just loved the idea of her. Couldn’t see myself spending the rest of my life at her side so I spared her all the bullshit and drama and just left…” He cringes slightly, flicking off some ash. “Left her at the altar the day of the wedding. Drove straight past the chapel and to the airport. Flew to Quantico for training and a few months later I was in Colombia.”

She listens intently, her heart aching with empathy for the man who stands before her, baring his soul in a rare moment of vulnerability.

His story hangs heavy in the air. The ember of his cigarette glows in the darkness, casting shadows across his face as he speaks.

She recalls her own brush with heartbreak, the sting of abandonment still fresh in her memory. The parallels between their experiences are both eerie and comforting.

“So you were her George,” She murmurs, her voice soft with understanding.

Javier nods, his expression a mix of regret and resignation. “Yeah. I guess. When you told me what you had gone through that night, I felt so bad. I still do. Me and Lorraine have talked things out since. She’s actually married now. Has two kids and a loving husband. He was able to give her all the things I knew I couldn’t.”

“It’s funny how life works out,” she muses, her voice carrying a hint of empathy. “You both found what you needed in the end, I suppose.”

He nods, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipates into the night air. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of the shared revelations hanging between them. It’s moments like these that reveal the depth of their connection, beyond the surface banter and flirtation.

“And after Lorraine? Was there anyone else you fell for? A lover in Colombia?”

Her name echoes in his mind like a haunting melody, each syllable laced with memories of their tangled past. Helena. Their relationship had begun as nothing more than a transaction, a simple exchange of information for physical intimacy. But as time passed, their bond deepened, evolving into something he never expected.

Helena had been different from the others, a beacon of light in the darkness of his days in Colombia. She listened to him, truly listened, offering comfort and understanding when the weight of his job threatened to crush him. In her arms, he found refuge from the storm raging within him, a sanctuary where he could lay bare his soul without fear of judgment.

But their idyllic bubble was shattered by the harsh realities of their world. The fallout from the Gacha debacle had left Helena broken and vulnerable, a stark reminder of the dangers they faced every day. Javier wrestled with his feelings for her, torn between his duty and his desire to protect her. Yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shield her from the horrors that awaited her.

As he recalls their tumultuous journey together, Javier is plagued by a sense of guilt and regret. He had failed her, failed to keep her safe from the darkness that had consumed the country. And now, her name serves as a painful reminder of his shortcomings, haunting him like a ghost from his past.

“No. Just a long string of meaningless sex. Didn’t have the time or energy to date anyone. The job was too demanding for it.”

She reaches out tentatively, resting a hand on his arm. “Well… Thanks for sharing with me. I know how difficult it can be to open up like that,” She says softly, flashing him a small smile.

He meets her gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Of course, hermosa.”

As she straightens up from leaning against his cruiser, a soft sigh escapes her lips, carrying with it a hint of resignation. “I think I’m ready to sneak back in now.”

He nods in acknowledgment as he takes a final drag of his cigarette. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he crushes the butt under the sole of his boot. “Right. We’ll keep this night between the two of us, yeah?”

She responds with a nod, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. She gets back in the car, ready to get into her bed.

He starts the engine, the soft purr of the car’s motor blending with the nocturnal symphony of crickets and cicadas. As they roll down the driveway, he keeps the lights off, wary of getting caught.

It’s not the first time he’s had to sneak a girl back home.

Just as they near the end of the driveway, she curses softly, a sudden realization dawning upon her. Slapping her palm against her forehead, she lets out an exasperated sigh, prompting Javier to glance at her quizzically.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need the ladder to get back upstairs. The lattice fence broke when I snuck out earlier.” She completely forgot about the mishap, it had almost woken her father up.

“Do you need help getting it?”

“…Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

So they sneak around to the backyard, the metallic finish of the elongated ladder gleaming beneath the growing grass that surrounds it. It reminds Paloma that she needs to mow the lawn soon.

As she bends down to grab it, she feels a sudden, unexpected sensation slithering against her leg. Panic rises within her, her muscles tensing in preparation to let out a guttural scream, but before any sound can escape her lips— a strong hand clamps over her mouth, muffling any noise.

She freezes, heart pounding in her chest, as she glances wide-eyed at Javier.

“It’s just a garter snake, nena, it’s not going to hurt you.”

A warm glow then spills from inside the house, casting long shadows across the backyard.

Paloma’s heart leaps into her throat, her pulse quickening as she envisions her father stepping out onto the porch, his stern gaze piercing through the darkness.

With a sense of urgency, Javier gently pulls her back into the comforting embrace of the shadows, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of their clandestine escapade.

Their bodies press close together as they hold their breath, hoping to remain unseen.

Her lips are still against his palm while his other hand has a firm hold on her hip. His thumb instinctively traces slow, soothing circles against her skin. It fires up every nerve of her body.

After what seems like an eternity, a soft, distant sound of a flush is heard, followed by a click as the light flickers off.

In unison, they both release the tension they had been holding, his hand gently sliding away from her face as she exhales deeply.

Neither of them attempt to move for a split second, and it’s not until she pulls away that he’s brought back down to Earth.

“Fuck— that was close.”

An electric tension crackles between them, infusing every movement with a heady rush of anticipation. Wordlessly, they resume their task, the air thick with both desire and apprehension.

Each touch, each shared glance teeters on the precipice of control.

It’s a delicate dance, teeming with an unspoken longing that threatens to overflow, begging to be unleashed in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Once Javier is sure that the ladder is steady enough for her to climb, he takes a step back to make room for her.

“Alright, princesa, up the tower you go.”

She doesn’t say anything, her gaze remains fixed on him, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them before she begins her ascent up the ladder.

She makes it up a few steps before she stops and turns to face him fully.

In a bold move, Paloma reaches out, her fingertips delicately curling around the collar of his jacket. With a gentle tug, she draws him closer, her lips meeting his in a fervent kiss.

Caught off guard, he momentarily freezes, but the warmth of her touch and the intensity of her kiss quickly erases any hesitation. In an instant, they’re lost in each other, their lips moving with a fiery urgency, igniting the flame that has been smoldering between them.

Everything else fades away, leaving only the two of them lost in a sea of passion and desire. With each kiss, they explore each other’s mouths. Licking, sucking, biting; it’s better than anything either of them could have ever imagined.

She can’t help but moan softly into his mouth at the way his hands move over her body. Every caress feels like a promise of pleasure to come, and she surrenders completely to Javier.

His muscles tense as he pulls her closer, his touch becoming more urgent. His fingers trace her curves, lingering on the places that make her gasp with pleasure. She can’t help but arch her back, pressing herself even closer to him, desperate for more.

As their bodies meld together, there is sense of completion that they’ve never experienced before. It’s as if they were always meant to be together, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

Reluctantly, she pulls back first leaving him yearning for more as he reaches out, chasing after her lips.

Their fervent kisses have left his mouth slightly swollen and lips glistening, adorned with remnants of her saliva, evidence of the passion with which they had indulged in each other.

Her eyes are swimming with lust as she brushes some of his hair to the side, “I had to,” she whispers softly, her voice barely above a murmur; filled with affection and sincerity, “just once.”

Her words carry a weight of longing and vulnerability, a confession of the depth of her emotions for him.

“Buenas noches, Javi.”

He’s so bossy, He makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip And just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy, But he’s such a man. He knows just what it does When he’s holding me tight And he calls me “Moonlight” too.

#javier peña fic #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier pena narcos #javier peña narcos #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #javier peña x ofc

39 notes · View notes

ahonice · 2 years ago

Text

Paper Rings

Mark Estapa x Fem Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: cursing, underage drinking, smoking weed, some sexual jokes, fluff (Who am I??? A fic that is only fluff, someone check on me)

Note: this is my second installment of fics based off of my favorite Taylor Swift songs, paper rings is next because I am a lover girl just as much as I am a speak now girl <3. Enjoy, leave feedback (if my writing sucks tell me I need to know lol) Have a great day babes!!

*italics are song lyrics* (I recommend you listen to the song while reading)

***

“The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met. Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet, now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed.”

Like every other Saturday night since I started college I found myself with a twisted tea in one hand and a blunt in another. The only difference tonight had with the one that occurred one hundred and sixty eight hours ago was the scenery, rather than getting crossed in the safety of my friend's backyard I found myself in a lawn chair in a backyard that belonged to my roommate's new boyfriend’s friends.

The conversation was hard to follow. I quickly found out that the drinks and weed I was consuming were being provided by hockey players, making me a little on edge because as much as I don’t wanna be that person, I have no idea where they got this weed. I used the guy who sat next to me as my guinea pig, like how in the olden days where royalty would have someone try all their food and drinks to test for poison, he hit everything before I did.

Soon enough it was time to leave. I bid the boys a half hearted farewell, as I had only spoken to two of them, Johnny, my roommate's friend, and the boy who I sat next to who’s name I never learned.

“Hannah how the hell are we getting back to the dorms?” Johnny had driven us there, but he also participated in the activities of the night leaving him unable to drive us all back to campus.

“Good question. Johnny, is anyone not impaired here?” Thank god one of the seniors didn’t smoke or drink because he was kind enough to drive us back to campus.

During the car ride I sat in the passenger seat, as Hannah and Johnny wanted to sit in the back together and I wanted no part in that. Looking at the two in the back I saw how distracted they were with each other. I decided to ask the question I had been wanting the answer to all night.

“Hey, sorry if this is an odd question, but who was the guy I was sitting next to all night? Tall, blonde?” I asked a guy who’s name I didn’t know the name of a guy who’s name I didn’t know. I really need to start introducing myself to others.

“Oh your taste tester? That’s Mark Estapa, and I’m Eric by the way. I know you never got my name either.” I smiled at his answer, typing Mark’s name in my phone before looking back up at Eric to inform him of my name.

“I’ll be sure to tell him your name when he asks me tonight.”

***

Once I was in the comfort of my own dorm room I pulled out my phone to look Mark up on instagram. Quickly finding his account I spent more time then I had meant scrolling through his posts, his tagged posts, and a little bit of his following just to see what was up. An internal battle was occurring in my head as I tried to figure out if I should follow Mark or not.

“Hey Hannah, do you think I should–”

“Yes you should follow him.”

“The wine is cold like the shoulder that I gave you in the street, cat and mouse for a month or two or three. Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe.”

It wasn’t on purpose, I was too distracted by the essay revisions my professor has just given me to see Mark waving at me.

“Ouch dude that was brutal, didn’t you say she followed you on instagram. Isn’t that like a sign that she is interested?” Ethan said, giving his buddy a pity slap on the back.

“Just because she followed him first doesn’t mean she likes him, she could’ve just wanted to follow him. Stop being so delusional Edwards” Mackie said, “Also, that was tough to watch. Sorry Mark.” He added, commenting on the way I had completely ignored him.

***

That Saturday Hannah and Johnny had somehow convinced, well more like threatened, me to come to the party the hockey team was throwing to celebrate their season starting earlier that day.

Entering the house Johnny and Hannah immediately ditched me to go somewhere more private, much to my distaste I begged them to get a room while they were making out on the walk here, regretting that request because they were now doing just that.

“Need a drink?” A voice came from behind me, I turned around to see Mark smiling at me with a twisted tea in his hand. “Saw that you were drinking a twea last time you were over so…” He trailed off as I reached to grab the can.

“Thank you Mark.” I smiled at him, his expression mirroring mine.

“You wanna smoke?”

“Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night. Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life.”

That same scene happened over and over again. The hockey team would host a party, I would attend and find Mark, more often than not he would find me, and we would go smoke.

I was starting to get annoyed with how slow things were progressing between us. I followed him on instagram, the ball was in his court now and it had been for nearly a month now. Surprisingly enough over the past month I became close with Eric, the guy who drove me home the night I first met Mark.

Tonight when I arrived at the party I made a beeline for the couch that Eric was sitting on, ignoring Mark’s wave again.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m trying to enjoy my time here Y/n, go bother Mark.”

“Cicc this is about Mark.”

Nodding silently, Eric stood up and allowed me to lead the way. Bad idea considering I had no idea where I was, this was a new house that I hadn’t been to before.

“Eric, I don't know where I’m going.”

“Oh shit yeah, sorry.” He said laughing. “Give me like a minute I’m gonna go see if anyone is in my room.” I nodded, making a mental note that this is where Eric lived so I could bother him in the future when he would ignore my texts, which he did all the time.

“Hey Y/n.” Mark said from behind me. I turned around giving him a quick greeting before recognizing the drink in his hand.

“For me?”

“Always is.” He smiled, handing me the drink. “Look listen I was wondering, if you don’t wanna do this it’s fine, but I was wondering if you wanted to–”

“Y/n some couple is going at it in my room, but I think Moyle’s room is open.” Eric said coming down the steps, interrupting Mark. “By some couple I mean Hannah and Johnny, we gotta put a muzzle on them or something.”

“It’ll do. Mark, we can smoke later, once I’m done dealing with that idiot.” I said motioning towards Eric who made a face of shock before laughing. “I’ll find you, okay?” Mark nodded, I noticed the way he looked a little defeated but I decided to ignore it and blame it on the lighting.

***

“So we’ve been hanging out together at parties and talking constantly during the day, but he won’t ask me out. Is he not interested in me? He won’t even ask me to just plain hang out as friends outside of parties.” I rambled to Eric once we made it to Nolan’s room.

“Wait what was he saying before I interrupted him?”

“He was just asking me to go smoke.” I said before realizing Mark was probably not asking me to smoke because he always just says “wanna smoke”.

“You idiot Eric.” I yelled.

“What did I do?”

“You interrupted him while he was asking me out, and then made it seem like we were going upstairs to do stuff.” I said, reaching over to smack him on the back of his head.

“Oh shit, yeah that probably doesn’t look too good in his mind.”

“I’m leaving, goodbye, I’ll find you when I want to go home.”

“Why do I always have to take you home?” Eric asked, but I was already out the door. “Good luck Y/n.”

***

It took a little bit, but I finally found Mark sitting outside in one of the chairs placed around a firepit. Making my way up to him I saw that he had already smoked most of his blunt.

“Started without me?” I asked, laughing at the way he jumped in surprise.

“You snooze you loose.” Mark said, chuckling, but I could tell it was fake. I sat down in the chair next to him before speaking.

“Is everything okay? You seem a bit off.” I asked, a little afraid of how he might react to my question. We hadn’t been friends for very long, if we were even considered that.

“Yeah, I’m great.” He said, smiling for some reassurance, I don’t know if it was for me or for him. “What’s going on with you and Eric?” I had a feeling the question was coming, but it still took me by surprise.

“Nothing, we’re just friends. We’ve gotten really close over the past month, in a strictly friends way. Just friends…” I trailed off, hoping Mark would get that I’m being so adamant on us being friends and friends only. When Mark only nodded in response I let out a sigh. “Earlier, before when you were asking me about something…what was it that you were asking?”

“Oh just to see if you wanted to smoke.” That was a lie.

“That’s a lie, what were you really gonna ask me?” I pressed on the subject because I hated when something was being kept from me, secrets, lies, anything being hidden from me.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out with me, outside of a party and not just smoke weed, but I get it if you don’t, or if you’re too busy–”

“I’d love to.”

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Darling, you’re the one I want. I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want.”

The night was going great, it wasn’t a date Mark hadn’t asked me on a date, he asked me to hang out. We went to a diner for food, it was a cute mom and pop shop. While we sat waiting for our food, the waitress brought over our milkshakes.

“Give me your hand.” Mark told me after the waitress had walked away. Skeptically I reached over and gave him my right hand. “No the left one.” I switched hands, looking at him even more confused now.

He works silently, wrapping my left ring finger in the paper wrapping of the straw he put into his milkshake moments ago. I smiled once I realized what he was doing, making me a paper ring. I quickly took a picture of my hand with Mark smiling in the background and sent it to Eric.

To: Eric🥱

*image*

He is already buying me jewelry 🥰

From: Eric🥱

Thought this wasn’t a date?

From: Eric🥱

I better be giving you away at y’alls wedding.

To: Eric🥱

You’re gonna be my flower girl Cicc

To: Eric🥱

ALSO it’s not a date asshat🙄

I put my phone down as our waitress brought our food over, immediately diving into both the food and a conversation with Mark.

“In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool. When you jumped in first, I went in too. I’m with you even if it makes me blue.”

“This is a bad idea.” It was. Mark found out, much to my dismay, that I didn’t know how to ice skate, in return making it his mission to teach me.

“No it’s not, I promise this is safe.” Mark reassured me, well attempted to.

After finding out that our hometowns were just a few miles apart we spent a lot of winter break together. For Christmas he got me ice skates, and a personalized bong but I couldn’t open that in front of my parents, who were spying on our gift exchange earlier that week.

“Mark I can’t accept these, they’re way too much money.” I felt bad, I had gotten him some lulu shorts, which were heavily discounted thanks to me working there, and his favorite munchie snacks.

“Y/n please, I need to teach you how to skate and how can I do that if you don’t have any skates. Think of this as an investment, I’ll be getting my money back in no time.” By money back he meant that he would be rewarded with spending time with me, teaching me how to do something he loves.

“This is a frozen pond, no way I’m going on this, it is not safe. Have you ever seen The Good Son.” I was not going onto the ice, I had a fear of drowning ever since I watched the movie when I was a little girl.

“No I have not seen that, but I promise it’s ok. Look they marked that the ice is thick enough and it’s cold enough out to be on here, we just have to avoid that small patch in the middle.”

“If I drown you’re going to jail for my murder.” Mark laughed at my joke, that wasn’t completely a joke. I had some truth behind my words.

Eventually I allowed Mark to lead me to the small bench so he could help me get my skates on, I took a quick picture as he put my foot between his thighs to tighten the laces. I smiled down at the picture as I sent it to Eric.

To: Eric🥱

*image*

He got me skates…

From: Eric🥱

He got you nice ass skates*

From: Eric🥱

Photo is cute, Mark looks extremely happy for someone who has a blade to their crotch.

To: Eric🥱

I hate you.

“You ready?” Mark brought my attention back to him and I smiled nodding.

“You better not let me fall Estapa.” I said, pushing his chest lightly with my finger. He laughed in response and promised me he would never.

***

“Can I hold just one hand now?” Mark asked me.

We had now been on the ice for about fifteen minutes, the whole time he skated backwards, holding both my hands, and I wasn’t really skated, I was more being pulled along, I don’t think I picked either of my feet up once the whole time.

“Yeah sure, just don’t go too fast.” He nodded and shifted over to the left side of me, holding just my left hand. I decided that I would start moving my feet rather than just being dragged.

“Don’t look down at your feet, you’ll mess yourself up.” Mark gave me the piece of advice after noticing my eyes were trained on the ice below me.

Soon another fifteen minutes went by before I decided to try skating without him holding me steady..

“Let go of my hand, I wanna try it on my own” I said with the most confidence I could muster up.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Yes, keep skating next to me, just don’t hold onto me anymore.” He nodded at my request and let my hand go.

I definitely stopped skating as fast, but I was still doing it on my own.

“Think you’re ready for me to give you some space?” Mark asked, I nodded quickly before I realized what that meant. My safety net would no longer be there in case I fell. I hadn’t been close to falling yet, the whole time I was out there was going very smoothly, but before I could take back my nod Mark had already sped up and went to the other side of the pond.

“Skate towards me.” He told me, after planting himself about thirty feet away from me. I managed to gain as much courage as possible and started skating towards him. The skating itself went well but there was one thing that Mark hadn’t taught me yet.

“Mark, I don't know how to slow down, or stop.” I yelled. It felt like I was going forty over the speed limit, in reality I was probably going five miles an hour.

“Just shift your body to the left, turn your feet.” Mark yelled at me but it was too late, I closed my eyes and I came flying and ran into him, somehow knocking his body to the ground, me quickly following after.

After opening my eyes I saw Mark staring back at me with a smile on his face, he was laughing at me and I joined in. Once the giggles settled down it was like a staring contest, neither of us wanted to break, or maybe knew how.

“Can I kiss you?” It was insanely cliche, I wanted to roll my eyes at the thought of how predictable this was, but I still nodded my head at Mark’s question and smiled as he leaned in.

“Which takes me back to the color that we painted your brother’s wall. Honey without all the exes, fights, and flaws, we wouldn’t be standing here so tall.”

It was our first fight. Mark began getting upset with how much time I was spending with Eric about three months into our relationship.

“I am your boyfriend, not him.”

“You don’t think I’m aware of that? Eric and I have been friends for quite some time now, why are you getting upset?” I didn’t understand why Mark was so angry, it wasn’t like I was flirting with Eric, or even ditching Mark to hangout with him, or doing anything that would cause Mark to be skeptical over me and Eric’s friendship.

“Y/n, you’re not viewing this from my perspective. You constantly talk to Eric, you text him while we’re on dates or just hanging out, you facetime or call him a couple times a week, you hang out with him just you two multiple times a week, he takes you home from parties and kickbacks, and you have never been to one of our hockey games but you said that when you did that you would be wearing one of Eric’s jerseys.” Mark’s words began speeding up as more and more spilled from his mouth.

He had a point though. I did text Eric during our dates, always pictures I took of Mark doing whatever I found endearing and asking for advice on how I’m supposed to function properly around this boy who makes me feel so many things. I had weekly phone calls with Eric, sometimes text messages weren’t enough and I needed to rant about how much I liked Mark verbally. We hang out a lot, we get lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday because we have the same break in classes on those days. He takes me home from parties, he was always the designated sober, Mark couldn’t take me home if he wanted to because we always got crossed together. I said I would wear one of Eric’s jerseys before me and Mark started dating, obviously now I would wear Mark’s jersey.

So that’s what I told him. I said those exact words to Mark, maybe a few differences here and there but still the same points being made. We discussed everything more, I had to reassure Mark that there truly was nothing going on between me and Eric, and that there never had been in the past, a couple of times but I didn’t mind. I wanted Mark to know how I truly felt about him, even if we had only known each other for a little over two months.

“Alright, can I see those photos you’ve been taking of me?”

“Kiss you once ‘cause I know you had a long night. Kiss you twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times ‘cause you waited your whole life.”

That next weekend I found myself sitting in the stands of Yost with Hannah on my side, I was wearing one of Mark’s jerseys and Hannah was wearing one of Johnny’s. I made a mental note to get coffee with her soon so we could properly dish about our love lives and other things we can’t do around our boyfriends.

Michigan won their game, but it wasn’t a pretty win. Mark had gotten two penalties and it was a win in overtime. While waiting outside the backdoors with Hannah we noticed some of the guys trickling out, all smiling at us, some greeting us with words and asking us how we’re doing. It wasn’t until Johnny walked out that Hannah left me on my own. I was a little confused on what was taking Mark so long, had he walked past me and I didn’t even realize? I drove myself here so it wasn’t like I was waiting for him to drive me back or anything, he never explicitly asked me to meet him after the game. My thoughts were cut short by the sound of the door opening, the person walking out making me smile as I walked up towards them.

“Where is Mark? Did he leave already?” I asked Eric as I finally stood in front of him.

“Hello to you too Y/n.” I gave a fake laugh, urging Eric to tell me where the hell my boyfriend was. “He is still inside, should be coming out soon though. Want me to wait with you?”

I smiled at his offer, but declined it, telling him I would text him when I got back to my dorm for the night. There was definitely going to be a party thrown to celebrate the win tonight, but I didn’t feel like going and I was hoping Mark felt the same way.

After giving Eric a hug goodbye I waited about five more minutes before the familiar face of my boyfriend began to approach me.

“Hey babe, sorry for taking so long. Tough game, I’m really glad you were able to make it. Did you have fun?” He asked, wrapping his arms around me. The last question was slightly muffled due to his head being nuzzled into my neck. I didn’t answer though, well not immediately. I pulled away from his embrace and leaned up to kiss him, a sigh of relief fell from his mouth as he reciprocated the kiss. It wasn’t a heated make out, nothing scandalous, just an intimate and slow kiss that expressed the feelings we felt for each other. As I pulled away to catch my breath, which Mark quietly whined about, I informed him that I had a lot of fun and that I will definitely be attending more games of his in the future. Mark smiled at that and I couldn’t help but kiss him again, and once more when we made it to my car.

“What’s with all the kisses? Not that I’m complaining.” He asked once I handed him my keys so that he could drive.

“I don’t know, I just feel like kissing you right now.” My answer was the truth, as embarrassing as it felt to say it.

“Well then let’s skip the actual party and bring ours back to your place?” I giggled at what Mark was implying, but nodded nonetheless.

“Hannah is gonna be with Johnny at the party for a couple hours.”

“Let’s go.”

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Darling, you’re the one I want. And I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want.”

“Mark, I told you that you didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Now open it.” I glared at his attitude before going to open the small box.

“Oh Mark, this is beautiful.” It was a ring, silver, but it looked like an origami heart. Lately Mark had been getting more creative with the rings he would make at restaurants, drawing hearts or writing cute little notes, about a month ago he began attempting to fold the straw wrappers into shapes. None of them ever turned out the way he wanted them too, so now he got me one that was perfect, even if he didn’t make it. “I love it.” I love you. “You’re really stepping up your ring game lately Estapa.”

“Just wait until I propose.”

“I want to drive away with you, I want your complications, I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me baby boy.”

“Let’s just run away together.”

“Mark, what? No.”

Things have been pretty stressful lately. My classes were whooping my ass, Mark was feeling a lot of stress while approaching the frozen four tournament.

“I can’t handle the pressure of this. What if we get bumped out in the semifinals again, I want to win so badly Y/n.”

“Mark, all that matters is that you do your best. It’s a team effort, you can’t put all the weight on yourself. It’s okay to feel a little worried, but you can’t let it get to you, that will only affect your game and then your fears will come true.” I told him, reaching over to grab his hand from across the table we sat at and giving him a small, but reassuring, smile.

“I love you.”

I froze, I didn’t know what to do. I loved Mark, I knew I did and I had known for quite some time, but hearing those words come out of his mouth, to hear that the boy I love so much loves me as well was too much for me to handle. I wanted to yell, to scream out that I loved him too, but for some reason on this damn Monday afternoon I couldn’t speak. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I hadn’t realized how long I was silent until I fully looked at Mark, sitting there the most vulnerable I had seen anyone, and crying. Shit he was crying.

“Mark I–”

“No I get it, if you don’t love me back. That’s ok, we haven’t been together for that long.” A lie, we had been together for over a year. “-I’m sorry for saying that.”

“Mark, don't apologize for saying what you’re feeling.” Why the hell could I not tell him I loved him, it’s just three words, but they just couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. His crying increased, he was almost full on sobbing right now, it broke my heart.

“Please don’t cry baby.” I reached out for him, but he winced away. “I love you too.”

“Don’t just say that, don’t lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying to you, I love you. I have for a long time, since you got me my ring.” I sighed, reaching out for him once again, praying he wouldn’t shy away from me again, he didn’t. “Mark, I quite literally froze when you told me you loved me. To hear that you love me back, Mark, it makes me so happy. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back fast enough, I can’t imagine how you were feeling.” Mark smiled at my words, I could see the tension releasing from his shoulders.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Mark.”

“I love you too, Y/n”

We both broke out into a fit of giggles, Mark made his way around the table and wrapped his arms around me.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. That’s right, you’re the one I want. I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want.”

Me and Mark were out celebrating my college graduation, he flew in from Vegas to watch me accept my diploma. The past year we had gone long distance, I went to Vegas for his NHL debut and we were both home for the holidays, but other than that our relationship took place through a screen. It wasn’t ideal, but we got through it.

“Mark, can you order for me? Just my usual, I need to use the restroom.” Unsurprisingly we went to our favorite diner, the one we frequented a lot when both of us were living in Ann Arbor.

I came back to the table to see that our waitress had brought over the milkshakes we ordered. The scene was very similar, but one thing was different.

“No ring today Estapa? Are you trying to let me down gently?” I joked, a little confused seeing that the wrappers from the straws that sat in our drinks were crumpled up together

“I thought you might like a ring made out of a different material.” Mark stated before moving out of his booth seat and shifting onto one knee. The confusion in my face faded once I realized what he was doing. Oh my god.

“Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I thank god everyday that you didn’t trust Nolan’s weed enough to smoke it without having a taste tester. I love you so much, I love everything about you, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anybody but you.” Tears began to fill my eyes, I could see them filling Mark’s too. “Y/n, will you marry me?” I knew it was coming, but I still gasped. The ring was beautiful, an exact replica of the ring I designed for fun two years ago, telling Mark to take a mental picture of it for the future, I guess he actually did it.

“YES!”

“Paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams, you’re the one I want.”

“I can’t believe you kept all of these.”

Our wedding had just ended, I was officially married to Mark, Y/n Estapa. It was a beautiful ceremony, the reception lasted almost six hours. If asked what was my favorite part of my wedding, other than officially becoming Mark’s wife, it was the picture frames placed all around the venue with pictures of me, or Mark, or me and Mark, and along with it was a paper ring, dated from that same day the picture was taken.

“You kept every single ring you made me?”

“I’m a little offended that you never kept them, but it made my surprise all the more better.”

“I have a surprise for you too, but you can’t see it until we get to the room, which we can’t go to until everyone has left…”

“EVERYBODY OUT, THANK YOU FOR COMING, LEAVE NOW PLEASE!”

“You’re the one I want.”

***

Note: Not proofread, because that's for losers. My brother graduated college today and I wrote this while sitting through that long ass ceremony so idk if this is good or not, tell me if it sucks tell me if you love it idc just any type of feedback is greatly appreciated. Also ik that Mark isn’t drafted (I don’t think he is, if he is then whoops) but I used Vegas because of that instagram post. Love y’all, have a great day.

#mark estapa #mark estapa imagine #umich hockey #umich hockey imagine #nhl imagine #fanfiction #fluff #nhl fluff #ahonice writes #ahonice #x reader #mark estapa x reader

358 notes · View notes