#n e way this book series took over my life

[7s3ven]

okay I feel like you would be the perfect person to write this request! Obviously you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to :)it and idea for a Luke castellan x reader (and spoilers for the books/series if you haven’t read the books or know the plot!)

Is there anyway you’d be interesting in writing a Luke x reader where they’re a daughter of Poseidon fic where he betray the reader and like poisons them instead of percy but reader and Luke where in a relationship??? Idk mad woman by Taylor’s swift like opening lyrics give off that sort of vibe sorry if this makes no sense 😭

THE WAY I GASPED AND SHOUTED "THAT'S EVIL". Nahhh, poor Y/N. I feel so bad for the suffering I'm going to put her through...

( master list )

POISON AND TOXIN. luke (pjo)

IN WHICH... Luke commits the unthinkable and Y/N no longer wants any part in his life. Unfortunately for her, Luke isn’t ready to let her go.

"I'm takin' my time, takin' my time. 'Cause you took everything from me. Watchin' you climb, watchin' you climb over people like me."

Warnings : spoilers, details will differ (I haven’t read the books in ages), obsessive love, yandere! luke, kidnapping, angst, betrayal, toxic relationship, mentions of sex, manipulation, y/n + luke know they’re toxic but they can’t stay away from each other

—

The last few days without Percy had been uneventful to say the most. Y/N groaned as she slowly sat up, clutching her aching head. The pain was pounding against her skull, causing her to quietly scoff. She groggily reached for a bottle of pills beside her bed, taking one to relieve the pressure.

The harsh light from the sun seared into the room and she groaned, squinting her eyes to protect them.

“Another late night, Y/N?” Harmon, a boy from the Apollo cabin, called out as she exited her cabin to breathe in the morning air. He jogged over to a swaying Y/N.

“Yeah. It doesn’t feel right without Percy.” Y/N groaned, running a hand through her untidy hair. She probably looked like a mess right now but with all the thoughts rushing through her mind, she didn’t care.

It felt wrong without Percy. All those years alone had done some damage on her and it had been exciting to have someone new in her cabin, for a little while at least. While Percy occupied the bed in the corner of the dusty room, Y/N’s nightmares came to a temporary halt. She was happy for the time being, her dreams filled with pretty flowers and romantic settings instead of chilling monsters and bony hands threatening to drag her to the bottom of the ocean.

“How’s Luke?” Harmon questioned, causing Y/N to heave an annoyed sigh. She rolled her E/C sighed, scowling.

“As distant as ever.” She sneered. She lifted her head, making eye contact with the one person they were talking about. Y/N held strong eye contact with Luke before glancing back to Harmon, smiling at him. “Have you had breakfast yet?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side. “Do you know if there’s any food left?”

“There might be. You woke up pretty late.” Harmon grinned.

“I will see you later, then. I have to make myself look presentable and not like a raccoon that just crawled out of a garbage can.” Y/N laughed at her own joke as she waltzed back into her cabin, kicking the door closed. She hummed under her breath as she pulled the crop top she slept in off, replacing it with her bra and the bright orange shirt she hated so much.

She quietly yelped when her door creaked open, thinking it was someone else. She felt a little relieved when it was only Luke. He stood there in all his glory, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face that suggested he wasn't happy at all. "What was that?" He questioned, sitting down on Y/N's bed as she looked at him in confusion.

"Uh... what?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing. Luke scoffed at her perplexed face, not believing it for a second.

"You were flirting with that Apollo boy. You're my girlfriend, not his." Luke snapped, anger glazing over his usual kind eyes. Y/N was taken aback, staring at him with her red-tinted lips parted in surprise.

"I wasn't... what? Luke, I wasn't flirting with Harmon. He's my friend." Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she slid on a pair of pants. She could feel Luke's gaze watching her every move and wandering over her waist.

What had become of Luke? She was at camp before he even arrived and she was the one to show him around, introducing the boy to the perilous life of a demigod. Ever since that damned quest, he had been acting different. More closed-off, more secretive with someone he once shared everything with, and he let his temper get the best of him; always shouting at people and letting his anger flare up like he was Clarisse.

Annabeth could sense the change too.

"What's with you, Luke? You used to be fine with me talking to Harmon." Y/N took a careful step towards her boyfriend, not wanting to upset him even more.

"That was before he started staring at you like you were the only girl he could ever date." Luke jeered as he deeply frowned. Y/N smoothened out her messy bedsheets before taking a seat next to him.

She stared at him, not really knowing what to reply with. Her breath shuddered as she shrugged. "I guess I could... talk to him less?" She muttered, causing Luke's face to light up. He instantly smiled, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace.

"I love you." He whispered, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. Y/N blinked a few times, thickly gulping.

"I... I love you too, Luke." His hands felt like blistering metal on her bare arms but she couldn't find the courage to pull away, in fear he'd hurt her or leave her. Luke had never hit her, thankfully, but his words sometimes pierced her soul and he left her crying under her sheets, wondering what she had done wrong.

"I'll see you after archery, alright?" Luke ended the hug.

Y/N stared at him in confusion. "But... I thought you were teaching the newbies archery and I'd be showing someone else around?" She spluttered.

"Nah. I changed your job. Newcomer's a boy and I don't want him to get any ideas." Luke grinned and Y/N couldn't say no to his charming face. He passionately kissed her, cupping her face in his large hands to pull her closer.

"I should get going, Luke." Y/N breathed but he tugged her back.

"You can afford to leave them for a few minutes." He whispered, dragging Y/N onto his lap. She couldn't stop her cheeks from flushing bright red despite his hands harshly digging into her skin and his grip being so tight that she couldn't squirm away, even if she wanted to. Luke had no interest in whatever the new kid was saying. He kept babbling on and eventually, Luke managed to tune out his voice. The pair ended up in the arena and the boy, whose name was Gil, nudged Luke.

"Who's that?" Gil questioned, pointing at Y/N. Luke clenched his jaw and harshly cleared his throat. He placed his hands on Gil's shoulders, squeezing him tighter than needed.

"Y/N L/N." He muttered. "Pretty little thing, ain't she? She's great with archery. May as well be Apollo's daughter with that skill." Gil didn't notice the dark look in Luke's eyes, too preoccupied with craning his neck to catch another longing glimpse of Y/N. Luke cleared his throat, "The tour's over. I trust you'll be able to find the Hermes cabin by yourself?"

Gil mindlessly nodded.

Luke walked over to Y/N, tapping her on the shoulder. He kissed her cheek, making sure Gil saw his not-so-subtle advances. "What was that for?" She asked as she turned to Luke. The young demigods groaned at the sight of a couple and Y/N quietly laughed, effortlessly shushing them.

"I think you've had enough practice for today. Come back tomorrow, same time." Y/N said to the children, ushering them away. Luke slung an arm around her shoulder as they walked side by side.

"You have to stop attracting attention from other guys." Luke uttered to break the peaceful silence.

"What?" Y/N lightly gasped, offended. She glowered at Luke, quietly scoffing. "Oh, so it's my fault now?"

Luke shrugged, pressing his lips into an annoyed thin line. "I'm just saying. You wear low-waisted pants and a shirt that's too small." Y/N should have punched him for that comment but she was sure that Luke could do a lot worse to her pretty face.

"My clothes are not an invitation." Y/N quickly snapped.

"When did you start disrespectfully talking back?"

"It's hardly disrespectful, Luke. I'm simply standing up for myself. I do not condone your jealous behavior and troublesome remarks." Y/N harshly poked his chest, almost angrily baring her teeth at him. "Talk to me when you regain your senses. It's not my damn fault that you feel so threatened by other boys that you start blaming me."

Luke ran his tongue over his teeth as he watched Y/N storm off. He bit the inside of his cheek before huffing in frustration. Y/N would forgive him for his harsh and cold words in no time, she always did. Especially when he'd sneak into her cabin at night with her permission and press her hips deep into her squeaky mattress.

Y/N went to lunch furious and still fuming. A part of her wanted to wear an over-sized shirt to please Luke while the other refused to back down. What gave him the right to dictate her life while he could do whatever he wanted simply because of his gender?

Y/N was even angrier to see Luke standing at the Aphrodite table, entertaining the giggling girls who he knew had a thing for him. She gripped her fork tightly and jumped when someone slid into the seat next to her.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Y/N recognised him as the Gil boy, or whatever his name was. She raised her eyebrows as her lips curled into a slight sneer.

“Do I… know you?” She asked, “Only Poseidon kids are allowed to sit here and until my brother is back, nobody but me should be here.”

Gil quickly stood up, his knees hitting the table. “Sorry. I didn’t realise. I’ll, uh, go back to the Hermes table. Sorry, again.” He ran off while Y/N sighed. She picked at her half-eaten food before deciding she was no longer hungry. It was a rash decision but as soon as she reached the wildly dancing fire, she threw her food and plate in. Her father wouldn’t be too pleased but he could live with it.

Luke’s sharp gaze followed Y/N as she left the cheerful atmosphere. He quietly chuckled and smirked. If there was one thing that he knew about Y/N, it was that she didn’t handle jealousy too well either.

He left the Aphrodite table without an excuse, not caring about the girls drunk with love. “Hey, Y/N, honey, did that Gil kid upset you? I understand that he’s a little annoying but I can talk to him if you want.” Luke clasped his hands around her wrist, forcing her to stop walking so quickly.

“It’s not his fault!” Y/N exclaimed, spinning around. Her eyes were red and the tears welling up in her eyes shone in the dim sun. “It’s yours, Luke! You treat me like I’m some… some girl who worships the ground you walk on! Well, I don’t! I have some self-respect left. And if you want to flirt with other girls then that’s fine by me. But make sure you break up with me first because I’m not putting up with any of your bullshit.”

Luke chuckled, “Harsh words, don’t you think?” He almost jumped when Y/N let out a scream.

“You never take me seriously! All you do is play around and then you get mad at me for factors I can’t control! Yet you always brush me off when I’m trying to resolve things. You isolate me from my friends so I’m easier to mess with! Well, are you done now? Have you had enough fun?!”

“I’m not manipulating you. You’re crazy to think that. I love you, Y/N.”

“No! That’s not true! That’s a lie!” Y/N pulled at the end of her hair, “You fell in love with the idea of me! You’re in love with your version of me that lives inside your head! And then you get mad at me because I make a mistake and your Y/N isn’t supposed to make mistakes!But I’m not like her, Luke! You have pushed me too far and when I finally break, suddenly I’m the crazy one?! You always call me crazy. So guess what, maybe I am insane!” Y/N heavily panted as tears spilled over her hot cheeks, cascading down and temporarily staining her shirt. She had always been a kind soul but there was one particular flaw Y/N hated; her habit of crying whenever she was mad.

“If you won’t end our relationship then I will. We’re over, Luke. I’ve had enough of your jealousy and if you can’t accept that I have guy friends then maybe you need to think twice before attacking me.” Y/N reached up, grasping the necklace she had made Luke that hung around his neck, and yanking it off.

Luke watched in despair as the colourful beads dropped one by one to the floor, rolling under the green blades of grass. “Are you crazy?” He muttered, looking up. “You can’t leave me… I’m all you have.” He clutched his shirt, balling up the fabric, and he took long strides towards Y/N. “I made you into who you are. I created you from nothing. Before me, you were only a girl half-decent at archery. Now, you’re a prodigy. You would’ve been lost without my guidance and you have the guts to break up with me?!”

Y/N didn’t flinch, even when Luke’s voice pierced her sensitive ears. “It’s like you said, Luke. I am crazy. Breakups happen so deal with it.” She threw the remaining beads and the leather string at him before walking away, most likely to stay in the cool comforts of her cabin until Annabeth and Percy returned.

Luke could barely contain his rage and he hurriedly kneeled down to collect the beads, or at least the ones he could find.

Each bead and charm seemed to bring back a different memory of them arguing or fighting over a pointless topic. Luke sighed as he leaned his head back, knowing he had made a mistake.

But if there was one thing Luke Castellan refused to do, it was give up. So he stared at Y/N all throughout dinner. And even when Y/N made it clear that the sight of him made her sick, he still knocked on her door at night.

“Y/N.” He called out, impatiently tapping his foot against the old wood. “I’m sorry. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m ready to talk everything out. I’m calm now.”

Those were the exact words he had uttered to Y/N last week, promising he would change but he never did. Y/N had learned her lesson from that, refusing to open the door and going as far as locking it.

“Y/N. You’re being unreasonable.” Luke grumbled as he desperately tried to open the door, barging into it with his shoulder. He heard Y/N laugh.

“That’s ironic considering you’re trying to break my door down.” She spoke over the hooting owls and buzzing cicadas. “You always promise you’ll change but you never do. Don’t you think it’s time to stop making empty promises?”

Luke could hear her voice waver and he felt a small pang of guilt, knowing he was the reason behind her agonising sorrow.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, not only to Y/N but to everybody he was about to hurt, even to his father who was the most wretched man in this world. He repeated his sentence, leaning his head against the door. It suddenly swung open and Luke almost crashed into Y/N whom was still gripping the door knob.

She quietly sighed, her gaze immediately spotting his mournful eyes and his lips pulled into a guiltily frown. Y/N hesitated before stepping aside.

“This is your last chance, Luke.” She mumbled but he knew she was lying. She loved him far too much to devoid herself of his charming face.

Luke smiled as he brushed past Y/N. She could never resist him, after all. In a way, Luke pitied her for being so forgiving and sick with love because she and Percy were in the most danger out of everybody, even if they couldn’t see it yet.

The day Percy returned was the day Luke decided to be a hopeless romantic. He took an unsuspecting Y/N into the woods, twirling her around a few times because she always liked dancing.

While Y/N was distracted by the babbling brook and dipping her hand in the cool water, Luke clasped his hands behind his back. He was thinking of what to do next, let Y/N to fend for herself or he could struggle to protect her.

But sacrificing so much for a mere girl seemed pointless, even if Luke was developing strong feelings for Y/N. He quickly clicked his fingers, catching Y/N’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder, her joyful smiling fading as she laid eyes on the huge pit scorpion.

She scrambled back while Luke watched her pathetic attempt at escaping.

“I wouldn’t.” He uttered, “Pit scorpions can jump fifteen feet and slice right through your clothes. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds. But, of course, you already knew that because you love reading about these creatures. That’s why you look so frightened.”

Y/N looked at Luke, searching for any kindness in his eyes to offer her mercy. There was none. His eyes were like a void, empty and dark and lacking any human emotions.

He looked nothing like her Luke who she had met on his first day of camp, scared, annoyed, and baffled at what had become of his dead friend Thalia.

“It’s a shame I have to end our relationship here. I was starting to enjoy your presence, but giving up all my hard work for you is hardly beneficial.”

“What?” Y/N spluttered, trying to kick the scorpion away. She only made it angrier and it clapped his claws at her, ignoring Luke altogether. The scorpion’s tail was raised in hostility and Y/N held back a loud shudder of fear, knowing Luke was thriving off her terror. “Luke… what are you talking about?”

He laughed as if she were an idiot. She felt like one for trusting him despite how much he hurt her. “You don’t get it, do you? I want revenge. On my father and on the gods who have forsaken their children! They don’t give a shit about us. They never did. To them, we’re just some nitwits who are stupid enough to suck up to them. I was the one who stole the bolt, Y/N. Not Hades. And I was the one who sent that hellhound after Percy.”

“Luke, I trusted you.” Y/N thickly gulped.

“A fatal mistake.”

“No. That’s our parents you’re talking about, Luke. And you wouldn’t try and kill Percy… would you? Not my brother. You know how much he means to me.” Y/N’s eyesight turned glassy as she furrowed her eyebrows.

It all made sense now. His sour mood and his bitter attitude. All those nights she spent crying over his glass sharp words. Y/N felt foolish for not noticing what he was doing, but she was far too preoccupied with saving her relationship with Luke at the time.

“What did you think I’d say to that? Join you?” Y/N huffed.

Luke’s eyes flickered to the large bug that was only getting more furious as the seconds ticked by. “Does a scorpion sting when fighting back?” He simply questioned.

Y/N’s hardened gaze bored into his soul as she answered. “They strike to kill… and you know I will too.”

Yes, Luke knew that. Y/N was an exceptional fighter with strategic moves rivalling Annabeth’s. Every carefully planned attack she dealt was like instant death. Luke knew if she had a weapon then she wouldn’t hesitate to land a blow. But he also knew she cared for him far too much to stab his chest. If he had a better weapon, would he do the same? Or spare her?

“It’s a shame you won’t join me… I know you won’t. You and your brother are too alike.” Luke let out a low hum, “I guess we’ve both changed. You used to be hungry for power. I remember you would train until the sunset with your bow and arrow, always wanting to be the best. You’d skip meals, even if you were starving, and I’d have to beg and cry for you to eat. Maybe if my father didn’t give me that quest then we would’ve been fine.”

Luke stared at Y/N for a moment before a grin broke across his face. He stepped over the furious scorpion, pressing a strong kiss to Y/N’s lips. It felt on acid on her skin, itchy and burning and painful.

“A part of me hopes you’ll survive this.” He whispered, “So you can live to see another day. I’ll create the perfect world for you… you’ll see. You’ll love me again even if I have to force the words down your throat.”

Something slipped into her pocket but Y/N’s mind was on the pit scorpion. She flinched as the it climbed up her shoe, snapping its pinchers again.

“Luke.” She breathed as he began to walk away. “Luke. Don’t leave me here! Luke!” She screeched. She would have continued screaming, even if her voice gave up and her vocal cords tore, if it meant she could spend one more day with the warm and loving Luke that she once knew.

The scorpion drove its tail into her leg and she shrieked in pain. She kicked the creature off and desperately searched around for a weapon. She found a small dagger in her pocket, realising that’s what Luke must’ve given to her.

Y/N sliced the scorpion, panting as the world become a confused hazed. She stabbed the creature over and over again until it was nothing but a gruesome corpse of a once terrifying bug.

Y/N limped towards the water but she stumbled, falling to her knees. The toxin was spreading through her blood quickly. She desperately reached out a hand for the creek water, knowing it could possibly heal her. Making it in time to camp would be impossible with her blurring eyesight and inability to walk properly. She’d have to drag her stung leg behind her.

Y/N clawed her way towards the water before her body gave in to the poison. Her limbs grew numb and they refused to move.

Y/N heard the loud noise of bushes rustling and Percy burst into the clearing, Annabeth and a few Apollo kids following close behind.

“Y/N!” He shouted, his voice deafened by the ringing in her ears. She felt dizzy and the world spun in slow-motion as the Apollo healers turned Y/N on her back. Percy kneeled beside her, holding her hand tightly.

“She’s been stung. We don’t have much time. Feed her the nectar.”

Black dots swarmed around in her vision. She could see Annabeth yelling at her but she heard no voices as she let her head loll to the side and she finally succumbed to sleep, not knowing if she would wake up again.

Y/N stirred as the harsh light peeked through the thin curtains of the infirmary. She lightly groaned, shifting around to get more comfortable. Her senses were slowly coming back and she could finally hear again.

“Y/N?” Percy was at her side in an instant. She smiled up at him.

“He really stole the bolt… didn’t he?” She whispered. Percy slowly nodded.

“Yeah…”

Luke’s betrayal would be hard to endure for both the Poseidon siblings and Annabeth. He was beloved by most of the camp and he threw it all away for one pitiful shot at glory.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you loved him.” Percy’s grip on her hand tightened.

A small laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips. “I guess I did… but he didn’t love me back. Or maybe he did and I simply wasn’t enough…”

Luke’s love had ever been pure or innocent. There was always a catch to it. He was obsessive with her, constantly ensuring that no other guys talked to Y/N. At least, not the ones that posed a threat.

A part of Y/N would always miss Luke but she could feel relief wash over her body because she no longer had to endure his lashing-out anger and sadness anymore.

She had escaped his cruel clutches and until they met again, most likely on a battlefield with their swords pressed up against each other’s throats, she could live in peace.

However, happiness never lasted long for demigods. “Get some rest.” Percy uttered as he stepped out of the infirmity. It was late at night and the last Apollo kid had just finished her daily rounds at checking the patients.

Y/N quietly sighed as she leaned her head back, her eyelids fluttering closed. The floorboards creaked but she paid it no mind. All the cabins squeaked, even the Aphrodite one.

Y/N felt drowsy under the influence of the medicine she had been given and she fell asleep in no time. Her long awaited rest didn’t last for long, though, when she awoke with a loud gasp.

She was outside. In a shallow river. Her clothes stuck to her body and she spat out a mouthful of water. Y/N shivered, rubbing her arms as a sorry attempt to generate warmth.

From the shore, she heard a familiar laugh. It pierced her soul and Y/N stiffened, her breath trembling. Luke sat not even a meter away, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He saw her petrified face and it fuelled a sadistic need inside of him.

“I changed my mind, sweetheart.” Those words from him felt like poison to Y/N. “I got permission to keep you around as long as you don’t get into trouble.”

Luke inched forward and Y/N tilted away, trying to scramble rearward. Her back hit a large rock and she quivered, realising she was trapped between a boulder and Luke. Her former lover was approaching her quickly and she didn’t have time to react before he was kneeled in front of her, not caring how his clothes got soaked.

He gently grasped Y/N’s chin, an action that contrasted his aggressive approach back at camp. He tilted her head up so that she was forced to stare at him and sent her another sickeningly sweet smile.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” He whispered in her ear. His hands felt gross on her skin but her body refused to move. She knew she wouldn’t get far with her injured leg and weakened body. “Because I missed you terribly.”

His lips captured Y/N’s in a long kiss and for millisecond, she forgot all his wrongdoings. She almost melted before she came back to her senses.

As Luke pulled away, Y/N sank further into the river like it would save her from whatever callous and vicious act Luke was going to perform.

Her whole body shook, and not just from the cold, as she found herself cornered in Luke’s suffocating embrace once again after fighting so long to get out.

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #annabeth chase #greek mythology #luke castellan pjo #grover underwood #percy jackson show #zeus pjo #grover pjo #pjo show #rick riordan #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #camp half blood #angst #manipulation #mad woman #chiron pjo #apollo pjo

[604to647]

Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

First Movement (Adagio sostenuto)

5.5K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: About to make your society debut and enter London's marriage mart, you don't expect an old friend whom you haven't seen in over 10 years to make a surprise appearance at the first ball of the season.

Warnings: None! Fluff! B, C, D, E, F Bridgerton make appearances. It's me so there's a cute nickname (won't spoil). The masterlist includes a few words about how this reader insert is written - essentially, no reader description other than having hair and wearing dresses in the style of this era, reader has a backstory; much of this part is exposition (so maybe a little slow but we'll get there!😊)

A/N: My plan is to post the entire series before Season 3 of Bridgerton airs, because the story is intended to take place in the background of the same season and if things don't make sense after the show comes out then oh well 🤭 I'm also only 2/3 of the way through Julia Quinn's books, so please forgive me if some of my characterizations of the Bridgertons are not wholly correct 🙏🏻

Wonderful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Series Masterlist

The Duchess of Hastings stands behind you, admiring the reflection in the mirror of the two of you together, “I dare say, if you had debuted with me during my season, there is a good chance that I may not have been the Diamond.”

“Oh, shush, your Grace,” you make a funny face at her in the mirror, to which she laughs and pokes you in the ribs, “Don’t you start with this ‘Your Grace’ business with me.”

That Daphne Bridgerton is your dearest and oldest friend in England is something you consider to be one of the great fortunes of your life, of which, as the daughter of a Count, you have many.  Violet Bridgerton and your mother, the Countess, had been dear friends and as such, much of your early childhood in England had been spent at Bridgerton House, running around with not only the same aged Daphne, but her elder and younger siblings as well.  The Bridgertons are one of the most beloved families of the ton, their good natured and spirited personalities recommending themselves to everyone, and accordingly, your memories of when your two families would gather remain some of the most joyous of your childhood.

Sadly, your dear mother passed away from illness when you were only seven years of age and your beloved father, who loved her more than life itself, could not bear to stay in England much without her.  The Count was one of several nobles charged with governance of Her Majesty’s Royal Naval Fleet; a gentle man, his purview was primarily diplomatic (as opposed to militaristic) and he thus travelled widely, often and always for long periods of time.

Though he did not wish to remain where so many of his memories dwelled, the Count could not bear to leave his only child behind, and consequently, you had joined your father on his travels.  He proudly raised a cheerful, spirited daughter who loved the seas and adventure as much as she did reading and music.  Your father found that exposing you to and requiring you to immerse yourself in so many foreign cultures at a young age led you to be the most sympathetic and kind hearted child, one who others found easy to converse with and befriend on account of your good humoured nature and open minded heart.  Unencumbered by the rigid etiquette requirements (and dress code!) of British high society, you happily embraced many freedoms that other young ladies of your age and breeding did not have the opportunity to enjoy.  Your father taught you much about the ships and business of the naval fleet, subjects to which you took a great interest; to this day, you know your way around most ships better than some sailors.  The Count was especially proud of your affinity for diplomacy, understanding the importance of fairness and tough negotiation both in foreign matters and managing fleets.  You loved all of it – spending countless hours pouring over maps and letters of diplomatic matters with your father and absorbing all you could; as you got older, you took great pride in the way your father would sometimes seek your opinion and advice on business matters and delighting when he would praise you on your ideas.

While he was unorthodox, your father could not be accused of being neglectful; he would not forgo your formal and societal education, knowing that one day, you would have to return to live in England.  Hiring only the most adventurous and brave governesses to accompany your travels, the Count ensured that your literary, numerical, musical and artistic accomplishments and pursuits could rival those of your peers back home.  You learned to dance the dances of grand balls, though you had only the few foreign dignitary hosted events to practice.  Your only other occasion to practice came when you would return for your infrequent visits to England, reuniting with your beloved Bridgertons to spend nearly all your time catching up and laughing with Daphne and her siblings, and take in what you could of British society before once again being swept away on another ship.  Though brief, these reunions with your friends, coupled with your frequent letters were enough to ensure your friendships remained strong and cherished over the years.

Two years ago, Daphne had made her societal debut, meeting and marrying her love, the Duke, during the marriage season and you could not have been more delighted for your friend.  That season should have also been your debut season, except that you and your father were in the Far East and would not have been able to complete the Count’s business and return in time.  Since you had postponed one year, what was two?  If you had your way, you would have made it three, not eager to give up the life of travel and leisure that you’ve grown accustomed to.  However, when the Queen wrote to ask why the daughter of one of her esteemed Counts has not yet been presented, both you and your father had to regretfully concede that your life as a carefree sea farer was over.

And thus, you find yourself in your present circumstance: in a luxurious silk gown the colour of swan feathers, wearing what might actually be swan feathers in your hair, about to be presented to the Queen before embarking on your first social season.  To be honest, you’re not terribly nervous, save for whatever nerves one always has whenever attempting something new, and you have good reasons not to be.

The first being that you are in the very capable hands of your great friend, the Duchess.  The now Dowager Viscountess had promised your mother that when the time for your debut came, it would be the Bridgerton family’s honour to sponsor you.  If anything, you felt that the honour was all yours – not only were you to have the support and backing of one of the most respected and revered families during your season, you would also be blessed with their company.  As fortune would have it, due to the timing of your debut, Violet had prepared herself to take on the duty of presenting not one but two girls: yourself and her third eldest daughter, Francesca. 

Fearing it was far too much work and pressure, you had assured Violet, whom you loved as a second mother, that she need not fret too much over you; you’re a woman of twenty-three with more world experience than most men twice your age, and encouraged her to focus her attentions on her own daughter.  Violet had been aghast at the implication that she didn’t think of you as one of her daughters, and you were about to be on the receiving end of a scolding that only a mother could dispense when Daphne came to your rescue.  As the Duchess of Hastings, she herself had the right to present young ladies at court, and she declared herself delighted to be your patroness this season.  This was decidedly a win-win; not only could Violet concentrate on Francesca’s prospects, you could now look forward to spending the season with your dear friend by your side.

The second reason you’re not overly anxious is that despite being older than most of the girls debuting at the same time, you know you have plenty to recommend you to potential suitors.  No, you are not terribly conceited nor do you hold your own attributes in such high esteem, but rather, very practically, you know most suitors will not let a small thing such as age deter them from the handsome fortune your father has bestowed upon you. 

The Count was forever exasperated with the shortcomings of the laws of inheritance and how they prevented his one child from inheriting his estate, but he made up for it the best he could with the legal avenues available to him.  First, he set aside a healthy dowry for you, so that you would be sure to attract a similarly healthy crop of high society gentlemen from which to choose a husband.  Second, via his will, you would be provided for for the remainder of your life with a generous per annum allowance that rivaled the income of many estates; you were to want for nothing even if you never married. 

And finally, known only to a select few, your father had a vast investment in an international fleet separate from the naval fleet of the queen; a beloved exploration and trade business venture that was the Count’s passion project - you and him spending many enjoyable hours pouring over the plans and movements of this fleet.  The dividends from your father’s shares went directly into a trust of which you (and any future children of yours) are the sole beneficiary, though the capital had to be held by a man.  It was the Count’s thinking that in addition to the income, it was only fair that you benefitted from a venture that you had invested much of your own heart and time into.  Naturally, being a part of your father’s estate, this investment could be passed down to the next Count (a distant relative), but your father had other plans.  If the intended recipient was willing, you father wanted to sell his shares to his future son-in-law, allowing for the dividends to continue flowing to you and so that you may remain close to the business via your husband’s involvement. 

In other words, there are plenty of reasons that potential suitors who might otherwise be dismissive of your age and lack of societal presence, may find you attractive (the least of which were probably your charm and wit); you can afford to be choosy and you fully intend to be.  And while you’re not quite so hopeful to wish for a great love like that of your parents, or even Daphne and her beloved Simon, you dearly wish for a husband that will understand and respect you; one who will celebrate you for your mind, experience, opinions and all the reasons why you’re different due to having grown up the way you did.

Daphne seems to have high hopes that there will be many potential suitors who will live up to your expectations.  You’re less confident than she, but still more optimistic than not.

Flopping yourself down on the chaise next to Eloise, the two of you heave heavy sighs in unison.  After the nerve-racking presentation to the queen earlier this week, the following days have been a non-stop flurry of ribbons, fittings, etiquette lessons and teas with the express purpose of study in the who’s who of the ton.  In just a few hours, all of Violet and Daphne’s hard work and preparations will be put on display when your contingent attends the first event of the season: the Danbury Ball.

Eloise passes a box of candy to you and you select a treat gratefully.  Though Daphne is your closest friend, you’ve sometimes found yourself having a fair amount in common with Eloise and know her to be a trustworthy confidant; this is one of those times.  While you don’t think you have it in you to hate anything as much as Eloise despises the marriage mart, the both of you at least have the good fortune of being able to be picky with your suitors and moreover, wish to exercise that particular privilege.  For Eloise, marriage is a cage.  For you, it’s the not marriage itself, but a union with an imprudent match that you wish to avoid.  If you can no longer be free to sail the seas and wander through the valleys and streets of the foreign lands that call your name, you must insist that the home you’re being called home to roost is at the very least, pleasant.

“I beg of you,” murmurs Eloise, “Please let all the fashionable young men fill up your dance card so that there shall be none left for me.”

You steal another piece of candy, “I’m afraid there’s more than enough young men to go around, El.  Plus, you really ought to beseech Franny for your request, my dance card may struggle for applicants on account of me being such an old maid,” you giggle.

“None of that negativity now,” chimes in Daphne from the open door, “tonight is full of possibilities.”

During the season, you’re staying at Bridgerton House so to be close to all the finery of dresses, jewels, shoes, ladies’ maids and moral support that you may need.  Your father is staying nearby in another house on Grosvenor Square, and comes by most days to see his daughter and dear family friends for breakfast at the very least.  You have loved your life with your father, but at times like these, when you are laughing at and listening to the loving snipes and bickering of the Bridgerton siblings, you often wonder what it would have been like to have a more traditional upbringing.  Pushing that thought out of your mind, you stand and pull Eloise up with you so that the two of you can follow the Duchess to the next room where you’re expected to choose from the glittering selection of dresses laid out for tonight.

As you lean towards selecting a pretty lavender gown, Daphne fills you in on the processional arrangements for your entrances tonight, “Mama, Franny, Anthony and Kate will take the first carriage, then you, Eloise and I will follow in the second.  We will enter the ball in that order as well.”

“What about Colin and Ben?”

“They’re meeting with some friend from Colin’s travels whom he met in… I want to say Greece?  They will make their own way and meet us at the ball.”  You nod agreeably; as long as everyone is together at some point or another, your first season event will feel a lot less daunting.

---

As you walk into the Danbury estate, you cannot but feel a bit overwhelmed by all the elegance and glamour on display.  Though no stranger to luxury and finer things, it’s not very often that you find yourself amidst so much opulence.  Eyes shining as you take in the finery, your voice is full of excitement and genuine awe as you compliment Lady Danbury and thank her for hosting tonight’s soiree.  Hand clasped tight in Daphne and Eloise’s as you make your way down the main hall to the ballroom, you see Colin further down on the right side of the hallway, waving alongside Benedict.  Waiting by the wall with the Bridgerton brothers is a third gentleman, tall and broad shouldered with soft, curly brown hair who currently has his back to you; Colin has on a mischievous grin and he’s speaking to the stranger quietly, eyes flitting back to you and his sisters periodically as you approach.  This can’t be good, you think with suspicion.  When you’re a few steps away from meeting with the brothers, Colin gives the stranger a slight nod and he turns around; before you even have a chance to look upon the newcomer’s face, you hear a familiar sweet baritone voice say, “Hello, Dulce.”

At first, you’re in shock; the Spanish word for candy is not a nickname people commonly call you and it’s one you haven’t heard in over ten years.  Then joy of recognition and realization overtake you and you completely forget where you are, crying out, “Pero!!!”  Your arms behave of their own accord and fly open to wrap around his neck as you launch yourself into the handsome man’s arms.

He hugs you back firmly and whispers low in your ear, “Happy to see you, too” before releasing you, the both of you immediately stepping apart and drop your hands to your sides, remembering where you are and that the eyes of the ton are always watching.  But you can’t help but beam; nor can you look away from Pero’s face. 

Pero Tovar had been your most constant and beloved friend for many of your happiest childhood years spent abroad.  Pero’s father, a Barón of Spain, was in charge of naval governance for his country in a similar capacity as your father was for England and accordingly, their paths crossed regularly in foreign countries.  Both men of gentlemanly dispositions, the Count and the Barón had forged a deep and lasting friendship as they conducted their business.  Another thing that they had bonded over was the fact that they were both widows who uncharacteristically chose to bring and raise their children with them on their travels. 

So, although Pero is eight years your elder and already in his early teens when you first met, being the only two children of sea loving foreign diplomats in the strange lands you found yourselves in readily recommended you to each other and you had become happy and frequent playmates.  Pero devoted hours and hours to your amusement, allowing himself to play more juvenile games of pretend that he may not otherwise with compatriots of his own age, and with his encouragement you grew to be brave and curious, always wishing to keep up with the older boy.  He helped you with your studies, and you played music for him, learning and mastering the pieces he enjoyed the most.  The two of you shared a love of literature and it became your special version of a traditional hunt in each new country you landed in to find foreign language versions of the other’s favourite books so that you could read the translations alongside your worn English copies.  Some of the most cherished copies of your favourite books, ones you carry with you from country to country still, were gifts from Pero. 

As you got older, your shared adventures expanded to include exploring the streets of new cities, trying local cuisines and frolicking on the beaches of the coasts of Italy, Portugal and even India.  The last time you had seen him, he was a strapping young man of twenty and you had been twelve.  His father was returning to Spain for an undetermined amount of time to deal with affairs of his estate, and Pero would be entering university, having postponed his acceptance for two years already.  Although you had each promised to write, the letters were far and few between and eventually you lost track of Pero – you can hardly blame either of you; you were travelling with your father and not always easy to find, and you didn’t really expect a young man concentrating on his studies to have the time to write to a young girl despite having been her very best friend for so many years.

But now he’s standing right in front of you and you can hardly believe your eyes.  He’s impossibly tall and wide, a far cry from the lanky boy with whom you scrambled over rocks on the beaches of Portugal, but he’s still tanned, leading you to surmise that he must still sail or at least get a healthy amount of sun regularly.  And while his face is older, devastatingly handsome with a cutting jawline partially hidden by untamed facial scruff, he’s completely recognizable to you.  An easy clue is the scar that runs from above his left eyebrow down past his eye, though faded from when you saw it last, but it’s the indulgent smile he’s giving you right now that gives him away to you.

“What are you doing at this ball? Did you know I would be here?” you can’t help but continue to stare at Pero wide-eyed, grinning like a fool.

“Oh!  We made the connection earlier this week at dinner,” chimes in Colin, “We were going to bring him over to the house but thought this would be more fun.”

You make to swat at Colin’s arm. “How did you meet this scoundrel?” you jest, with absolutely no malice in your voice, pointing your thumb at the still laughing Bridgerton brother.  As your group starts to move towards the ballroom, Pero falls into an easy step by your side, “We met when Colin was taking in the crisp sea air of Mykonos, and then again last year in the vineyards of Tuscany.  He made for excellent company after a long day of helping the locals prune grape vines.  Naturally, when I arrived in London for business this month, I had to look him up.”

Daphne is now tugging you towards the ballroom by your hand, and in turn, you’ve grabbed onto and are practically dragging Eloise down the hall with you.  You shout back to Pero, “I want to hear everything!” and can’t help the smile that spreads across your excited face when he nods after you.

“Oh!” you breathe, invigorated from the surprise of seeing Pero, as you come to a stop right before the entrance way.  Daphne smiles over at you, “It was so hard keeping it a secret from you!”

You’re astonished, “You knew about Pero as well?”

“Yes, I thought it might give you an additional boost of confidence to have another friend’s support during your first event.” 

You smile at your sweet friend and squeeze her hand affectionately, “Thank you!  It does and I’m delighted to see Pero again.  But in truth, my confidence could never be lacking when I have a friend like you next to me.” 

Daphne gives you her biggest smile and squeezes your hand right back.  A moment later, the three of you step into the ballroom and meet the gazes of the other attendees as you’re announced.

---

The ball is a whirlwind.  It seems you hardly have a moment to even catch your breath, never mind catch up with Pero.  From the moment you walked in to the grand hall, you were pulled in this direction and then that, introduced to new person after new person, some of whose names were familiar from your visits home over the years, and others only from the copious amounts of study you’ve done on the ton over the past week.  You’ve certainly forgotten all their names by now. 

Then it’s dance after dance after dance with the young gentleman that Daphne parades in front of you.  The dancing itself is quite pleasant and a lovely way to shake out some of your jitters, but you find the small talk hardly enough to get to know your partners, and when the dance is over and you’re once again being whisked away to another introduction or meeting that the Duchess has lined up for you.  The few opportunities you’ve had to take a breather and indulge in a glass of lemonade, you’ve been happy to retreat back to Pero and your small familiar group; but just when you’ve started to entreat your old friend to open up about his adventures since you saw him last, another potential suitor will be introduced and the entire cycle starts over again.

It’s only when you’re halfway through the evening that the frenzy has died down enough that you can observe and be amused by Pero’s behaviour at the ball.  While you’re constantly twirling around the dancefloor, you notice that he never leaves his position against the wall and doesn’t dance at all; he mainly scowls and looks displeased, hardly speaking to anyone other than the Bridgertons or you when you have a free moment.  You feel his eyes follow you as you glide across the dance floor with the young men that have asked you to dance, and even when you’re making your way through the room on Daphne’s arm, meeting and making small talk with the other families of the ton.  When you do happen to look up and search for him, you often find him glowering and looking dissatisfied, though if you catch his eye, his expression will soften slightly. 

Once while you were dancing with Lord Whitfield, you had caught Pero’s eye mid-turn and made a silly quizzical face at him, as if to ask What’s going on with you? and you think you see him laugh briefly before the steps of the dance require you to turn away from him.  You wonder why frowns so fearsomely and if there’s a reason for him to be so stoic and curt with the rest of the ton.  It’s so odd to you as you’ve never had so much as a cross word from him in all the time you’ve known him, not even when you had snuck out of the compound in Singapore when you were nine so you could watch the fireworks display.  Pero had come looking for you, his face serious and eyes panicked when he finally found you in the busy square, but he never once got mad.  Instead, he swore not to tell your father, and promised that if you had wanted to see the fireworks up close, he would accompany you.  And then he did just that the next night and the night after that.  But here, when not engaging the company of his friends, Pero’s countenance is positively sour.  Any hopes harboured by the mamas of the ton for snagging a Spanish nobility son-in-law this season are quickly dashed.  Barón Tovar is decidedly not here to find a wife.

With the evening more than half over, you realize that unless you make the point to do so, an opportunity to speak more than a few minutes with Pero will surely not present itself.  And while you are having fun meeting potential suitors, your mind consistently wanders to Pero throughout the evening.  Aside from simply wishing to catch up with him and be in his comforting presence, you do have something important you feel compelled to speak to him on.

After a particularly spirited quadrille, you curtsey your gratitude for the dance to Mr. Sedgewick, and before any of the young men you spy hovering nearby can approach you, you hurry as elegantly as you can toward where Pero is standing awkwardly pressed to the wall. 

Pero, having seen the look of determination on your face when seeking him out, asks with concern when you come up to him, “Is everything okay, Dulce?”

There he is, you smile when you see the kind, gentle expression of the boy that you knew for so many years, “Everything is fine, Pero.  Although I must admit to needing a respite from all the endless socializing.  Do you think we could get some lemonade?”

“Of course.  I would be happy to accompany you in fetching a glass.”

With Pero by your side, any person who previously had designs on engaging you during this brief break between dances now thinks better of it; you chuckle to yourself as his fearsome expression comically paves a clear path for you to the refreshments table.  Once having secured your drink, you ask Pero if you can speak to him privately.

Careful not to lead you from view of other people lest it incite a scandal, Pero finds a quiet place in the entrance hallway and turns to find you looking up at him rather seriously.

When you’re certain you have his attention, you launch into your confession, “Pero, please allow me to tell you how sorry I was to hear of your father’s passing.  I remember him as such a kind, generous man, and such a wonderful friend to my father and by extension, me.  I will always think of him with tremendous fondness.”

“Thank you, Dulce.  I know he thought very highly of both you and your father and forever treasured your friendships.”

But you’re not done and start to shake your head, eyes filling with tears, “And I’m so very sorry that I did not write to you at the time.  I didn't know where you were, but I should have been more diligent in my efforts to find you.  I deeply regret not being there for you if you needed someone.  I hope you were not alone during that difficult time.”

You hang your head in shame.  Pero feels a deep affection for you blossoming in his chest; before him is the same sweet and compassionate girl he knew when he was a boy.  Tender-hearted and endlessly considerate of the feelings of others, you always had more empathy than you knew what to do with; he himself had been on the receiving end of your care and concern more times than he could count.  Pero gently tips you chin up with his gloved finger, “It was a tough time and I miss him a great deal.  But he was an incredible man and I strive to follow the example he set for me everyday.  So, in many ways, he is still with me.  No need for any apologies.”  He gives you what he hopes is a soft and reassuring smile.

In return, you grin, “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?  The boy I knew would have made me pay dearly for even the slightest offense - my portion of dessert for a week, at the very least.”

Unable to hold back his own grin, Pero is finding it easy to slip back into this familiar type of playful banter with you, “Well, I was trying to be a gentleman, but since you think me nothing more than a brute, I shall have no trouble devising an appropriate punishment.  For your transgression against me, I demand… a dance.”

You laugh whole-heartedly and it feels wonderful to laugh loudly at something genuinely funny rather than the quiet polite laughter you’ve been making most of the evening. “A dance?  Well, that is hardly a concession for me!  One dance with you means one less spot on my dance card for some lord I don’t know but who Daphne thinks I might find charming,” you joke.

“Are you finding your potential suitors so far to be villains or are they all just very boring?” smirks Pero.

Giving him a little punch in the arm to show him you’re not really complaining, “I am not so terribly unfeeling.  They are for the most part fine enough gentlemen.  The particular circumstance we find ourselves in just makes them so very eager.  It can feel terribly awkward.”

“None of them are good enough for you anyway.”

“Oh, and you are?” you jest, eyes full of mirth.

“Dulce, I’m the worst of the bunch,” counters Pero, leaning in close.

“I don’t doubt it,” you haven’t smiled this wide all evening.

“Be that as it may, the price you must pay to regain my favour remains the same.  Shall we?” Pero holds out his arm, waiting for you to accept his dance invitation; you hold on to him gratefully and head back into the main ballroom, realizing this is the first dance of the ball that you’ve truly looked forward to.

When Pero takes his place across from you, the tittering from the crowd that the Barón has finally taken to the dance floor can be heard over the opening notes of the music.  You can’t help but giggle, and Pero beams back at you – your light laughter more melodic than any music he’s ever heard.

Hand firmly curling around your waist, Pero sways you to the beat and the two of you carry out the steps of the dance comfortably together.  You hadn’t realized how much stress you’ve been under or how much tension you’ve been holding in until now, when you find yourself actually relaxing in Pero’s strong hold.  For the first time this evening, you’re dancing without nerves or the pressure of having to make polite conversation or a good first impression; you can simply be.  You sigh in contentment.

“What is it, Dulce?  Are my dance skills not to the standard set by your other partners this evening?”

“Hardly,” you chuckle, “I know for a fact that you dance remarkably well.  And if I were to have any complaints, the blame would rest squarely on my shoulders since we learned these dances together.”

“That’s true, we can only be as good as the partners we practice with.”

“Exactly. At least that’s what Madam used to say, right before she would rap you on your shoulders with her rhythm baton,” you muse, nostalgic.

“That weapon had a name?  I have not thought of Madam for many years now, but upon my word if I did not straighten up and stiffen my arms just now.”

You share another chortle as only two close friends with a long history of fond memories and inside jokes between them can.  When you sigh again, Pero cocks his scarred eyebrow at you.

“Do not think me dissatisfied, my Lord.  It is simply just so comfortable dancing with you, as if it has not been over ten years since we last did so.”

“I feel the same way, Dulce.”

You smile sincerely at Pero; although you could explain yourself further, you somehow know that he understands your meaning without you having to do so.  Feeling content, both heart and mood light in the safety of Pero’s closed frame, you find yourself wishing that you could spend the rest of the ball dancing with only him.

I've never done a tag list before so please let me know if it doesn't work, or you don't/do want to be on it, or it sets your phone on fire 😅 @drewharrisonwriter @inept-the-magnificent @tuquoquebrute @titabel

#pero tovar #regency!pero tovar #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #bridgerton au #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #no y/n

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 16

summary: It’s obvious Javier Peña loves you, it just catches you by surprise how he decides to finally tell you. 

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Javier Peña, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie(s), oral sex (f & m receiving), rimming (f receiving), cockwarming, overstimulation (m), spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, nude photos, Javier begging, love confessions, miscommunication, arguing, angst with a happy ending, period typical sexism, canon typical drug talk, emotions, dysfunctional family, past relationship trauma (Javier), Not Lorraine friendly, Javier’s poor little ass being bruised, Javier being so in love, the most romantic sex I have ever written)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 17.8k+ (This is who I am)

a/n: Here we go! The first draft of this chapter was 3k… I’m as shocked as you are. I know some of the tags aren’t my norm, but I promise it’s a good time and things are resolved quickly. Shoutout to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this. I love you. 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

The time you spent reading had dwindled quite drastically since Javier Peña waltzed his way into your life, and you weren’t necessarily upset about this new development. 

Generally, you’d get home from work, shower, have dinner, then unwind by reading or watching a movie, wanting to relax after the busy day. Getting a couple of chapters in before bed was a must, needing it to lull you to sleep; that is, you did, up until Javi showed up, and now your bedtime routine had changed to either getting fucked and being so blissed out that sleep came easily, or laying in bed cuddled up with him while the two of you talked, getting so warm and cozy that you found yourself drifting off in no time.  

So, you weren’t getting much reading done, and your to-read pile on the living room bookshelf was haunting you, knowing that at the rate you were going, it’d probably take you years to get through the dozen or so books. 

It was a sunny Saturday, and not at all surprising that you’d awoken to a naked Javi pressed against your bare back, his hands ghosting over your skin while his lips trailed over your shoulders and neck, making you smile as you came to. 

He’d eaten you out until your legs were shaking, and the sheets below you were wet from your release, Javi telling you he’d take care of washing them after breakfast. 

God, there was something about a man taking the initiative. 

The windows in your apartment had been opened to let the early sunlight in and to air out the place; Javi not only putting the sheets into the wash but also replacing the bedding and folding the laundry that had been in the dryer, all while you’d tackled organizing the three junk drawers in the kitchen. 

It took everything in your power not to suck his dick when he asked if he’d folded your panties okay, knowing you had a special way of bundling them up. You’d approved of his efforts and smothered his face in kisses, him looking very pleased with himself. 

When your task was finished, the drawers finally organized, and Javi extremely happy with what you’d done now that he knew where he could find things, you’d decided to spend the afternoon reading. 

Settling on the couch, your legs curled underneath you, you’d opened to the first chapter of a book you’d gotten almost two weeks prior. Javi was sitting beside you, so close your bodies touched, his hand on your thigh as he watched tv with the volume low. 

This was another very welcome change in your life. 

None of your ex-boyfriends would have wanted to spend their Saturday morning cleaning your apartment, then be content to just sit on the couch and watch television while you read. 

They would’ve wanted to go out and do something, not waste their day lounging around, always needing to be active when they weren’t working—if you wanted to just relax and spend the day in, you were left to do it alone. 

But Javier Peña was different. 

All he wanted was to spend time with you, and he didn’t care what you did. 

Want to go to the diner for breakfast? He’s down. The farmers market? No problem. Run errands? He’ll drive. Clean the apartment? Tell him what to do, and it will be done. Relax on the couch and read? You’ve got cable, and there’s a Lethal Weapon marathon that will keep him entertained. 

Honestly, he was clingy, just not annoyingly so. You found it endearing and adorable how he had to be touching you if he was sitting next to you, a hand on your thigh or feet in his lap, and he loved when you’d lay on top of him; showering with you was essential after work, he honest to god pouted if you took one alone; in bed, you always ended up wrapped in his arms, him seeking you out even in sleep, needing you close. He never let you cook alone, him wanting to help, or at least keep you company, if not distract you a little with some impromptu dancing. 

Here you were, cozy on the couch, Javi rubbing circles into the skin just below where your shorts stopped, so caught up in what you were reading you weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed. 

The book was surprisingly good and had sucked you in; an orphan boy finding out about a secret magical world and his life changing for the better, reading page after page, chapter after chapter, wanting to know what was going to happen next. 

“Want more water, Cielito?” Javi asked. 

“Yes, please,” you murmured, eyes glued to the words, but knowing you’d finished your glass in the time you’d read six chapters. 

“I’ll be back.” 

He squeezed your thigh, groaning as he got up from the couch. 

At some point, he returned to set down the cup on the coffee table, letting you know it was there and noticing he didn’t sit back down. 

You were engrossed with the story, fascinated by the magic and world-building, and metaphorically on the edge of your seat when suddenly the light of the television was blocked by a mass, realizing Javi was standing in front of you. 

“Need something?” you asked, eyes not leaving the book. 

“No,” he answered. 

“Okay,” you distractedly answered. 

He didn’t move, which made you realize he was trying to get your attention. 

“Want something?” you asked instead. 

“Maybe,” he replied. 

Glancing over the pages, he was standing there with his hands on his hips, noticing his damp hair from showering, your eyes taking in the nakedness of his broad shoulders and moving down his chest and soft belly to the tantalizing trail of hair that you knew led to his big di—your eyes went wide when they landed on his crotch. 

“Underwear,” you breathed. “Oh my fucking god.” You blindly reached on the table beside you to grab your bookmark to shove between the pages, the book practically getting thrown onto the tabletop. 

Your eyes were stuck on his bulge, the white material hiding nothing, seeing the clear outline of his cock, your hand moving without thinking, reaching to touch your fingertips to it, and seeing him noticeably getting harder. 

“Holy fuck,” you said, maneuvering on the couch to get on your knees. You took in how they sat on his hips and hugged his thighs, rubbing both your hands up them, feeling the soft material and his muscles flexing, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You fucking spoil me,” you purred. “This is what you grabbed before we left last night?”

The previous night you’d met Javi’s father for the first time, and everything had gone better than you expected, Chucho making you feel welcomed into their family. When you were leaving, Javi had run back into the house for something, and you hadn’t bothered to ask, so caught up in all you’d learned about your boyfriend and his parents. 

“Yeah,” he answered, a smirk on his plush lips, looking proud of himself. You couldn’t help pressing your face against his half-hard cock. “If I’d known I’d get this kind of reaction, I would’ve—fuck,” he groaned as you mouthed over him, wetting the boxer briefs with your saliva. 

Pressing a loud kiss to his now fully hard dick, you grabbed his hips, leaning back to forcefully make him turn to see how he looked from behind, but he didn’t budge. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion showing on your face when you met his eyes. 

“Let me see your ass,” you said. 

He was frowning. 

“I liked what you were doing.” 

“And I’ll blow you after I see your butt. I need to know how it looks.” 

Grabbing your hands, he held them. 

“Or I can eat your pussy?” he bargained. 

Your eyes narrowed, realizing something was up. 

“Why are you being cagey about this? What’s going on?” 

He sighed, looking away, his thumbs rubbing circles on the backs of your hands. 

“I just don’t want you looking at it.” 

“Because..?” 

“I got bit by a horse…” he said slowly and matter of fact. 

It was just hitting you that you hadn’t seen his ass since showering after work the previous day. He let you shower by yourself the night before, which you should’ve found suspicious. If he didn’t want you to see it, that meant he knew you were going to freak out, worry swirling in your stomach. 

“Javier, how bad is it?” Your tone was serious. 

He grimaced. 

“It looks worse than it is.” 

“Turn around.” 

“Baby…” 

“With the way you hate clothes, I’m going to see it. Pull off the bandaid, babe. Let me see your ass.” 

He let out a long sigh, dropping your hands to perch his own on his hips, slowly turning. 

Fuck, he looked amazing in the underwear, the way they clung to the globes of his ass, it taking everything in you not to grab handfuls of him, wanting to squeeze the little bit of butt he had. 

Your fingers moved up to the elastic waistband, sliding them under and slowly peeling them down, gasping when you saw his right asscheek. 

“Javier Peña, you fucking liar!” you exclaimed, staring at the large black and purple bruise that had to hurt like hell and was about the size of his fist, and his hands were so fucking big. “Please tell me you washed it with soap and water,” you said, automatically going into nurse mode, examining as best you could, needing to make sure he was okay and that it wouldn’t get infected. “Do you want me to pull out my first aid kit? I can put some antibiotic cream on it, and are you up to date on your tetanus shot?” You leaned in closer, gently feeling it. “I can’t tell if he broke the skin, and it can be transmitted through animal bites. Shit, babe, it looks so fucking bad.” 

“I’m okay, Cielito,” he sighed. “Washed it when we got back to Pop’s and got a booster the first time that fucker bit me,” he seethed. 

“Javi, be real with me. Are you in pain? I can’t believe you sat next to me for hours! Your poor little butt. Do you need some Tylenol? Want me to ice it?” 

“It’s fine, baby—I can handle it.” He twisted his upper body to look down at you behind him, his eyes rounded. “I promise I’m okay. Just fucking sore.” He frowned. 

“Let me get you some pain medication then,” you said, starting to get up, but he stopped you with a shake of his head. 

“Already took some—I’m good.” He gave you a reassuring smile. 

Your eyebrow quirked.

“You really took some Tylenol to make sure you could fuck, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” he answered with a smirk. 

“And you really thought you could hide your ass from me while wearing underwear? Javier, you know how I feel about your butt.” 

“Love it as much as I love yours.” 

“Exactly! Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering something. 

Leaning forward, you pressed a loud smacking kiss to his bruise, followed by smaller ones all around the area, Javi chuckling. 

“Does it feel better?” you asked, meeting his gaze. 

He smiled, “Yes, Cielito,” he replied. 

“You’re a lying liar who lies,” you accused amusedly. Smiling at him mischievously, you said, “I do know something that will definitely take the pain away, but it has to be administered orally.” You grabbed onto his tiny waist and made him turn around, his cock still hard in his underwear. “God, just look at it,” you marveled. 

“Fuck, baby,” Javi groaned, his head falling back. “Keep looking at my dick like that, and I’ll need to put it in you.” 

He looked down to meet your eyes, seeing his own had gone darker, his cheeks and chest pinking up.  

“I want you in my mouth,” you replied, stroking him over the boxer briefs. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard. “Can I, Javi?” you asked. “Can I have your dick in my mouth?” 

“Yes, Cielito,” he answered, the words coming out rough. “You can have anything you fucking want.” 

Smiling, you hooked your fingers into the waistband, slowly pulling them down to uncover his straining cock and heavy sack, wanting to taste and feel him, your mouth watering at the prospect. 

“Have I ever told you,” you started, eyes locked on his as you took him in hand, feeling him hard and hot in your palm. “That you have the prettiest dick?” 

The head of him was reddened, a pearl of precum beading at the tip, stroking him up and down. 

“Fuck,” he gasped. 

“I dream about this dick,” you continued. “Fucking crave it. Want you inside me—my mouth, pussy, ass.” His eyes squeezed shut, groaning loudly, his cock twitching at your words. “You’ve ruined me for all other men, no one could ever compare, but that doesn’t matter because I only want you.” 

He met your gaze again, pupils blown wide. 

“It’s yours,” he rasped. “It’s only fucking yours—I’m yours, you fucking own me.” 

Hearing him say that had your body going warm, your pussy throbbing. 

“And I’m yours—all of me belongs to you, Papí.” 

A strangled noise came from his throat, his cock twitching in your hand again. 

“Take what you want, Cielito.” Desperation was in his tone. “Fuck, do whatever you want. Please.” 

Precum was steadily flowing from him, helping your strokes glide. Letting go, you licked your palm, taking him back in hand and gathering spit in your mouth, hovering your head over him as it dripped onto the tip. He groaned when your mouth followed, the heft of him sliding along the broad flat of your tongue and relishing in his taste, moaning around him. 

Your hand continued to work his shaft while your head bobbed, letting your saliva coat him, hearing the slick sounds as you worked him over, moans and groans filling the room. His hand went to the back of your head, his eyes on what you were doing, looking up at him as you licked from base to tip, and swirled your tongue around the crown, his mouth falling open in a gasped fuck. 

Moving back down again, you went lower, drawing a ball into your mouth, sucking on the delicate skin, Javi moaning loudly, his eyes squeezing shut with furrowed brows. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted. “So fucking good—so good to me.” 

At the tip, you let more spit fall onto him, taking him back into your mouth, your hand like a sheath around the base of him, pumping easily from how wet it was, while your head bowed forward, letting him hit the back of your throat before swallowing him down. 

He was breathing hard, his fingers digging into your hair as his hard cock carved out space in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes, saliva dripping out the corners of your lips. His dick was so solid, loving how it felt inside you, humming appreciatively around him that earned a punched-out groan that shot straight to your cunt, making you clench hard. 

You were so turned on, loving the noises he was making and hearing just how much he was enjoying himself. 

“Gonna make me come,” he groaned. “Don’t wanna come down your throat.” 

Coming off of him, you were panting, his dick glistening as your hand wetly stroked him. 

Looking up through your lashes, seeing his attention on you, you asked huskily, “Where do you want to come? My face?” You pressed your breasts together in your shirt. “My tits? On my ass?” 

“Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes wild, looking wrecked with his pinched brow and the gorgeous flush all over his skin. “Wanna be inside you.” 

A grin turned up on your lips. 

“Of course, you want to finish inside. You’re fucking addicted to cream pies.” You rubbed your hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles tighten. “You like coming inside me, baby?” you asked. “Love filling me up—knowing you’re the only one who gets to?” 

His cock jerked. 

“Shit, fuck,” he gasped. “Yes, please, Cielito.” His eyes had gone round, pleading. “Please, baby. Can I fuck your pussy? Wanna feel you come around my dick—wanna fuck you full of me. Please.” He was begging, and it thrilled you, your cunt pulsing with want, panties drenched, wanting him as bad as he wanted you. 

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely? Javi, baby, you have to know I want you. My pussy is all yours.” 

He was on you immediately, his big hands cupping your cheeks as he bent to press his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue eagerly licking into your mouth. 

It was almost disorienting how quickly he got your clothes off; his lips leaving yours to tug off your shirt and sports bra, pushing down and off his underwear, laughing when his hands grabbed onto your ass, and he practically picked you up, manhandling you onto your back on the couch, his hips slotting into the cradle of your thighs. 

He kissed you deeply before sitting up on his knees between your legs, a look of concentration on his face as he pulled off your shorts and panties in one go, dropping them to the floor. 

His eyes were locked on your pussy, moaning when he spread open the glossy lips of your sex with two of his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he murmured, his other hand stroking his cock, hearing the slick slide of his hand working. “Look at how fucking wet you are for me, Cielito.” He slid a thick finger through your slit, pressing it inside your sopping entrance. “Mmm, you’re fucking soaked. Bet you don’t even need my fingers.” He pushed in a second, and you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. His eyes met yours, all dark with want, languidly pumping his digits. “Want me to get you off like this, baby?” 

Shaking your head, you answered in a moan, “No—want your dick. Wanna feel it. Love the stretch.” 

He smirked. 

“Always hungry for my dick.”

“Yes.” You nodded. 

His fingers left you, watching as he sucked them clean with a groan. 

“Taste so good,” he said, pulling them from his mouth with a wet pop. “Keep your legs open—don’t move.” 

He moved toward the coffee table, reaching to grab the Polaroid camera that had been gifted to you both the day before, your heart hammering in your chest, realizing what he wanted to do. Your lip was pulled between your teeth as he looked at you. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, holding up the camera. 

“Yes.” 

“Press your tits together for me.” 

Doing as he said, he leaned back, holding the Polaroid camera up to his face. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, the flash going off, the device whirring as the picture came out.

The photo was put on the table, Javi’s free hand spreading open your pussy, dipping his head down, his jaw working as he spit onto your clit, getting a shot of the hot saliva dripping down to your opening.

You were so into what he was doing that your cunt was throbbing in tune with your heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna fuck my hand looking at these,” he murmured, setting the picture with the other. 

“Really?” 

He glanced at you, smiling. 

“Oh, yeah. If I jerked off right now, I’d be thinking about this tight little pussy.” He cupped his large palm over your center. “Now, I have visuals. Wait—” His hand moved to grip his dick, knees shuffling to get closer so his thighs were flush between your legs, letting his cock drop onto your mons and stomach to see how far he’d reach inside. “Look at that.” The flash went off again. “Shit, what’s that thing you say about your guts?” He asked, meeting your eyes, the photograph getting placed with the others. 

Saliva and precum were smearing onto your skin, feeling how hot and hard his dick was. 

You snorted. 

“That I want you to rearrange my guts?” 

“Yeah.” He smirked. “I get so deep in there; I really do rearrange your guts.” 

You noticed his chest puffing up a little in pride, and it had you lowering your voice to speak in a sultry tone. “Yes, you do,” you purred. “You’re so big, making me feel so full. No one else has ever filled me so good or gotten so deep—only you, Papí.” 

His cock twitched. 

“Fuck,” he gasped. “One more.” 

He pressed his length through your folds to get himself wet, notching at your entrance, your eyes squeezing shut as he pushed in, moaning in unison. 

That first stretch was always the best—the slight burn, the way he made space for himself inside your depths, your inner walls hugging him close and pulling him deeper. He slid home in one smooth thrust, your back arching at how fucking good it felt to have him filling you.

“Fuck, Javi,” you breathed. 

The camera went off, and you knew it was a picture of him inside you, making your cunt clench. 

“Shit,” Javi groaned. 

There was the sound of him setting the camera down on the coffee table.  

His big hands gripped your thighs to hold you open, rocking his hips, letting you feel his thick cock move slowly in and out of you. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped. His hand pressed to your lower stomach over where his dick was inside you. “Always take me so fucking well.” 

“So good,” you whined. 

He was sliding along all those spots that made your toes curl, loving how full you felt, how deep he went, filling you so perfectly it took your breath away. He sped up, getting into a steady rhythm that had his hips slapping into yours, hearing the rough sounds from his throat and the wet suck of your pussy taking him. 

You were panting out breaths, feeling the heat in your belly starting to build with every deep kiss of his cock inside you, pushing in and pulling out, your head fuzzy with pleasure. He pressed his thumb against your clit, making you gasp from the shock of ecstasy shooting to your core. 

“Want you to come for me,” he said through gritted teeth and heavy breaths. “Wanna feel you, Cielito.” 

It felt like every nerve in your body was lit up, your skin hot and buzzing, the fire in your core growing hotter and hotter while soft sounds spilled from your lips. 

You were getting closer, moaning louder, it building higher and higher. 

“I know you’re almost there—fucking fluttering. Give it to me.” 

He was thrusting harder, his thumb moving faster. 

“Soak my dick, Cielito. Come.” 

His order had you shattering, coming with a cry of his name, your body clenching up so tight he had to slow to a grind, letting out a long, low groan. 

“My good girl,” he said thickly. “So fucking good to me, baby. Shit.” 

Waves of pleasure radiated through your body, him drawing them out with every thrust, letting you ride it out, your pussy pulsing around him. 

She was so fucking gorgeous, spread out for him on this couch, his eyes locked on her pussy, all wet and puffy, swallowing his dick to the hilt. He took in her body—the sheen of sweat on her skin, her eyes closed, lips parted, her perfect tits rising and falling as she panted. 

She looked absolutely blissed out, pride swelling in his chest that he was the one to make her feel like that—that he was the only one that got to feel her come while balls deep inside her. 

Fuck, his dick was throbbing, heart pounding, knowing he was close to his own end, waiting for her high to subside, shallowly thrusting into her wet heat. 

The moment her breathing got under control, and she relaxed, Javier was pulling out, seeing her eyes spring open in surprise. 

“Want you on your knees,” he grunted, grabbing her legs that were bracketing his hips and helping her flip onto her belly, pulling her ass up by the waist to get her into position, shuffling her knees apart so he had more space. 

And if it wasn’t the prettiest sight, seeing her all open and ready for him, his tongue peeking out between his lips, wanting to taste the slick that had dribbled down between her asscheeks to her tight hole, mesmerized by how it shined in the light of the room. 

Looking over her shoulder, their eyes met, causing a sharp spike of arousal to shoot down his spine at her lust-blown gaze. 

“You gonna fuck me?” she purred, wiggling her backside. 

“Maybe,” he replied, seeing her eyebrows crease in confusion. 

His knees sunk into the couch cushion as he shuffled back a little, slapping both of his hands down on the plump flesh of her ass, hearing her moan as he grabbed handfuls, squeezing it hard and spreading her open. 

“Fucking love this ass,” he growled.

He bent his head, gathering spit on his tongue and letting it drip onto her asshole, following that up by licking a stripe from her entrance back up to the tight ring of muscle, groaning into her sensitive skin at the salty-sweet tang enveloping his tastebuds, her tasting so good. 

“Oh, fuck,” she whined. 

His hand moved to squeeze the base of his cock, needing to restrict the blood flow and calm himself down, the flat of his tongue lapping at her hole, feeling like fire was prickling under his skin, hungry for more of her taste—working himself up almost to his breaking point, needing to stop before he stained the couch in his come. 

He pressed a kiss to her asscheek before sinking his teeth into her skin, leaving a slight imprint as he sat up, taking his dick in hand, not wasting any time to sheathe himself back inside her drenched cunt—the way she cried out his name made him jerk inside her, and his breath go shaky, a low groan rumbling from his chest. 

Shit, he was so fucking hard he could probably fuck her through a brick wall. 

His fingers dug into her hips, swallowing hard at how tight and warm she was, her pussy fluttering around him, pulling out until just the tip of him remained, and thrusting back in, setting up an even rhythm that had her moaning. 

“Love being inside you, baby,” he groaned, looking down to see his wet cock disappearing inside her. “Push back on me—get me deep.” 

“Yes,” she gasped, pushing her ass back, Javi meeting her over and over, the wet slap of their bodies colliding sounding in the room. 

He wanted to get her off again, but pleasure had his stomach knotting up, fucking into her harder, the tight squeeze of her cunt overwhelming him, compelling him, making him lose his fucking mind at how good she felt—he was fucked, gone, he’d hit the point of no return, his balls tightening up. 

“Shit,” he grunted, pounding into her, “fuck, fuck, fuck, no.” 

His cock thickened, pushing into her hard one last time, a strangled moan ripping from his throat, his come flooding her hot depths, gushing into her. He rolled his hips with a shuddering hiss to get it deeper until it was too much for him, coming to a stop while euphoria coursed through his body. 

He felt wrung out and dreamy, wanting to touch her, needing to feel her skin, practically collapsing as he blanketed himself over her back, shoving his nose into her neck to breathe her in. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurred. “Mmm, you smell so fucking good.”

She giggled. 

“You came really hard, huh, baby?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” He nuzzled his face against the side of her head, holding himself up on an arm beside her own, and moving his other hand under her body to the apex of her thighs, feeling her tense when he rubbed her wet clit—his dick so tender that when she clenched around him, his eyes rolled back in his head, moaning at the sensitivity. 

He was panting, sweat soaking his skin, pushing through the discomfort of her pulsing around him to keep circling her swollen nub—her arms and legs trembling, soft sounds spilling from her mouth as he worked her up, her body crumbling to the couch, him going with her, using one forearm to keep his upper body off of her.

His cock was still hard, it feeling like his nerves were on fire, shallowly thrusting until the pain became pleasurable again, the familiar heat building in his gut. 

He pressed his lips to her ear, asking through gritted teeth, “You gonna come for me, Cielito?” His hips fucked into her faster. “Gonna be my good girl?” 

“Yes, Papí,” she whimpered. “So, close.”

His eyes squeezed shut at the knife-sharp pleasure that cut through him from her words, his wet strokes moving in and out of her, his insides getting hotter and thicker as he built her up—her mewling beneath him, stoking the flames in his belly. 

He kept going, feeling her pussy contracting, arousal dripping down his dick and coating his balls, her finally seizing up beneath him as she came choking him inside her and squeezing him so tight that it sent him with her—the pressure inside him expanding to the point Javier was coming with a shuddering groan, pulsing inside her, pumping her full of himself. 

Pleasure washed through him, grinding his hips, the slide of his cock making his come leak out and around him, stilling when it all became too much. To make her more comfortable, his arm wrapped around her middle, him turning them on their sides while he stayed inside, spooning her from behind. 

The TV's low volume and heavy breaths filled the room, Javi kissing her bare shoulder, rubbing his hand over her belly, and moving up to grab her breast. 

“Did you come again..?” she panted. 

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly. 

He kissed her neck, loving the scent of her shampoo and how it made him feel warm and cozy. 

“That has to be a record. You usually need a break.”

“Finished too quickly, had to make up for it.” 

“...What?” she sounded confused, finally catching her breath. “You were a gentleman and made me come before you. How did you finish too quickly?” 

He buried his face in her hair. 

“Wanted to get you off again,” his muffled voice said. 

There was a pause before she spoke. 

“Babe?” She put her hand over his on her breast, lacing their fingers together. 

“Yes, Cielito?” 

“I know you’re really into making me orgasm so many times my legs turn to jelly, and I can barely speak, but you know one is enough, right?” 

He pulled his head back, eyebrows dipping together. 

“What..?” he asked. 

“We don’t need to have spectacular mind-blowing sex every single time.” 

“Why… not?” His heart had sped up, nerves making his chest feel uncomfortable. “Do you not like how we fuck?” he asked uneasily.

“Pause. Can you pull out real quick?” 

He did as she asked, feeling confused, and worried that he’d done something wrong, her flipping around to face him, pressing her hand to his jaw and looking him in the eyes. 

“Thank god, I got the couch protector. There is so much come dripping out of me right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, frowning. 

She smiled reassuringly. 

“Nothing to apologize about. I enjoyed myself very much—all nice and stuffed full.” She beamed, arousal stirring in his belly at the thought. 

Her fingers ghosted over his cheek and up to press into his sweat-damp hair, stroking lovingly through it. Fuck, he loved when she played with his hair; he always turned to putty under her touch. 

“Now, back to what we were talking about,” she said. “I love how we fuck, very much. Like, best sex of my entire life, and you’ve ruined me for anybody else—I love fucking you.” 

He could hear it coming. “But…?” he asked. 

“But, sometimes, I just like how you feel inside me and how close we are, and god, the kissing. It’s the connection and being with you, doing something so intimate. I don’t know. I just feel closer to you when we have sex, baring myself not just literally, but metaphorically, too, because I’m comfortable with you, I trust you, I lo–like—” She stumbled, eyes widening, his heart stuttering “—like you so fucking much. Javi, you’re the only man I’m genuinely okay fucking with the lights on.” Suddenly panic came over her face, her eyes getting big, “Fuck! The windows!” 

She started getting up, and he kept her where she was with his hand on her hip, Javier saying quickly, “I already closed them.” 

Her head rose to look over the couch armrest to the back windows, then in the direction of their feet to the large front windows, seeing that they were all shut with the blinds and curtains closed. 

She let out a breath, moving to kiss him hard, her fingers tangling in his hair. He moaned against her lips, loving her mouth on his, kissing until she broke away, smiling.

“This is what I mean,” she said. “You thought to close up the apartment before initiating sex because you care about me and wouldn’t want to put me in a compromising situation when you know I’m thinking with my pussy.” 

“You’re the one that initiated.” 

Her eyes narrowed, poking him in his bare chest. 

“Because you seduced me by wearing underwear!” 

He smirked, grabbing her hand to kiss her knuckles. 

“I’d think it’d turn you on more if I was naked.” 

Her eyebrow rose. 

“Javier, you’re constantly naked. You put on clothes, and suddenly I’m a Victorian woman going into hysterics over the slightest sliver of skin because I know what’s underneath—the feeling ten times worse when you’re in underwear or sweats ‘cause it’s like you’re teasing me, just Mr. Look-at-me-naked-from-the-waist-up-you-know-what-I’m-hiding. So, yeah, it fucking gets me.” 

He was well aware, able to see her undressing him in her mind, and it always went straight to his dick. 

“I know,” he replied. “Can tell by how you look at me.” 

He kissed her. 

“You fucking tease,” she murmured into his lips. 

“How I feel when you wear your dresses—know I can just lift it up and pull down your panties.” 

He was kissing her deeper, his hand grabbing her ass. She pulled back to pointedly look at him.

“You’re distracting me,” she said, making him pout. “As I was saying, I can trust you, and I like the closeness of fucking you, and every time doesn’t need to be toe-curling orgasm central. It’s cheesy as fuck, and I honestly cringe at saying it out loud, but I’d love to, god—” Her eyes squeezed shut, her face pinched in disgust “—it’s so gross. I’d love… to…” She was really struggling, and he wanted to know what was making her so uncomfortable. “Make… love… with… you,” she finally forced out. “Oh, yuck.” Her nose crinkled when she looked at him. 

The difficulty it took for her to say it had his stomach dropping, insecurity squeezing his chest tight. He swallowed hard, eyes darting away from her. 

“I don’t think you do…” he said slowly. 

“Fuck.” She cradled his cheek. “Please, look at me.” He did, her looking apologetic. “I can see how I came off, and I’m sorry, it’s not you; it’s the fucking phrase.”

“Okay..?” 

He was so fucking bewildered trying to follow along with everything she was saying, not sure what she meant about making love but understanding the things she said about the connection and closeness during sex, he felt it, too. When he’s inside her, it feels like everything is right in the world, and it’s where he’s supposed to be. He just wasn’t sure what she meant about only one orgasm or not every time needing to be mind-blowing—it was all he had to offer. 

Javier was broken, his head fucked from everything with Lorraine and Colombia, trying to do his fucking best navigating this new relationship, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. Cielito tried hard to guide him like a bright star on the horizon, leading him, helping him, but what did he bring to the table aside from knowing how to make her come? He didn’t think his love and devotion were enough; she needed more—deserved more, and all he had to give was his body, wanting to make her feel so fucking good that she wouldn’t want him to leave. 

And she’s not happy with what he has to offer—at least, that’s what he thought she was trying to say. 

The day before came to mind when she told him she felt the same, that she loved him, too, but would wait for him to say it first, and that gave him hope that maybe he just wasn’t understanding this conversation—his worries getting the better of him, which was a problem of his; spiraling, something negative having him play out all of the worst case scenarios and making dread wash over him thinking the other shoe was about to drop.

He took a deep breath, his hand flexing, listening intently, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. 

“You know how people hate the word moist?” she asked. “Like it makes their skin crawl and is just so cringy?” She shuddered.  

“Yeah, it’s the same in Spanish. People don’t like húmedo, which means the same thing.” 

“Love that it’s universal. I have the same kind of aversion to the phrase-that-shall-not-be-named.” 

He was curious. “Why?” he asked. 

“Oh, it’s overused by people who think sex is a dirty word, and ‘fuck’ is just way too profane for their sensibilities, but they aren’t actually… making love.” She cringed. “It’s usually the guy getting off without a care for his partner—so, basically, it makes me think of really bad heterosexual sex, and it’s gross.” 

Javier snorted. 

“This is why we fuck,” he pointed out. 

She grimaced, and he frowned, rubbing his hand over her back, needing to feel her, grounding himself in her comfort. 

“I would like to do the real thing with you…” she said softly.

“I’m sorry…?” 

What did she mean?

“To me, I think it’s the perfect way to describe that really tender, intimate fucking where you’re staring into each other's eyes, and taking your time, just enjoying one another. There’s no rush, no pressure to make the other person come over and over, it’s just being in the moment with your partner and feeling it, you know? I wanna do that with you.” 

His eyebrows were in his hairline. 

“You do?” he whispered. 

She smiled, nodding, “Yeah, I do, very much, ‘cause I don’t know if you’re aware, Javi—I really fucking like you. A lot, and I’d be so into it.”

“Oh.”

He was stunned. 

She stroked his cheek, worry etched on her features as she asked, “Are you okay, babe?”

It took him a second to wrap his brain around it. 

“You don’t care how many times I get you off…” he started. “You just want to have sex with me because you like it… You like me, and not how many times I make you come…?”

That didn’t seem right…

“One orgasm is enough. Multiple isn’t necessary, but sometimes nice,” she answered, shrugging her shoulder. “I like the intimacy and don’t care how many times you get me off. You finishing before you wanted was totally fine—it’s honestly really fucking sexy that you couldn’t hold out, like, fuck, I got you that worked up? Me? Makes a girl feel really good about herself.”

He saw in her eyes that she was telling the truth, and his mouth fell open. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, asking, “Why do you look so surprised?” 

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes tight. “You like me.” 

“I more than like you, but yes, I do.” 

Hearing her say it out loud made his heart pick up in speed. 

“Shit, I’m so fucking stupid.” 

“Javier, what’s going on?” 

He looked at her, seeing the concern on her face. 

“A long time ago, fuck,” he sighed. “A long time ago, with my ex—”

“What the fuck did Lorraine do?” she cut him off, seething. 

A smile crept up on his lips, warmth filling his veins at how protective she always got over him. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, rubbing her back. “It was so fucking long ago, but, uh, one time I came too quick, and she bit my head off about not getting her off.” 

“You made her come during foreplay, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah… Figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, so I let myself go, and she got so fucking mad.” 

“That greedy bitch.” 

“I should’ve seen it sooner—I can’t believe I was so fucking dumb.” 

“About dating her?” 

“Yes. My mom tried to warn me, and I fucking brushed her off because I thought she was just being overprotective ‘cause I was her only kid, su bendición, her blessing.” He sighed. “Pop told me when I came back from Colombia the first go around that they knew she was using me to get back at her dad—he thought I wasn’t good enough and fucking hated me dating her. And it’s taken me over fifteen fucking years to realize she was using me for sex, too. She didn’t want me,” he spat, anger simmering in his gut. “She wanted my body and what I could fucking do with it.” His eyes were beginning to burn, pressing his hand to Cielito’s cheek, swallowing hard, his voice thicker when he said, “You want me. You like me. You care about me, and I thought the only fucking thing I have worth anything to give you in return is my body.” A tear rolled down his cheek. 

“Javi,” you gasped, tears brimming your eyes, so utterly upset by what he just said. Guilt had your chest aching, thinking about how he’d wanted to take things slow at the beginning—the three dates he wanted to go on before sex, and now it was dawning on you how important that was to him. “I really fucking hope I haven’t made you feel like all I want from you is sex—you know, right, that I more than like you, and the sex is just a bonus?” 

“Cielito, baby, I know.” He stroked your cheek, his eyes rounded. “Our relationship is so fucking good, and I’ve felt every goddamn day since I met you how much you care about me. It’s just—” He sighed “—in the back of my mind, I wonder what the fuck I have to offer you?” 

It broke your heart how he didn’t see his worth, answering quickly, “You, Javi, not your body, but you, just you,” you said. “You cherish me, you care about me, too, and show me every day with the things you do and say that aren’t even sexy. Do you have any idea how much I love that you wanted to spend time with me today while I read? It made me so happy because none of my exes would’ve wanted to do that, and you keep my water refilled, which is so fucking romantic. I like your company. I like being with you and talking to you. I like everything about you, even if you get into your head sometimes.” You smoothed your hand through his hair. “But Javi, I more than like you a lot, and you give me so much—offer me so much of yourself, and I have never been happier in my entire life.”  

“It’s enough?” He asked, barely above a whisper, and you could see the worry in his eyes. 

You took his hand from your face, lacing your fingers together. 

“It’s more than enough, it will always be enough. You’re enough.” 

His eyes were rimmed red, smiling as he crushed his mouth against yours in a searing kiss that lasted until your lungs protested with a need for oxygen, Javi pulling you into his body and holding you close. 

Learning about Javi’s past over the last two days had given you a clearer picture of who he was and what he’d been through. He was like a puzzle that, since the first time you spoke, you’ve been putting together piece by piece, starting with the edges—him telling you some of his favorite things and about his job with the DEA; a large chunk in the middle coming together with the story of Lorraine, filling the rest of it in with little clusters of information he’d revealed, and at this point, it was almost completed, there was just this one big empty part in a corner that was still missing—Colombia, and all of the horrors he’d gone through. One day he’ll tell you, and you’ll be there to hold him tight and kiss away the memories. 

Time passed, both of you cleaning up, getting dressed, putting the couch protector in the wash, and ordering food to be delivered. 

The entire pizza was eaten, the box lying open on the coffee table with six empty beer bottles surrounding the cardboard. You were sitting in Javi’s lap, his arms wrapped around you with your head resting on his bare shoulder, the man only wearing sweats as you both watched the first Lethal Weapon movie, the marathon having started over. 

The characters work for the Los Angeles Police Department, one of them being a sergeant in the narcotics division, and it had you wondering something while you watch. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, Cielito?” he asked, kissing your hair. 

“What made you decide to become a cop?” 

He took a deep breath. 

“You know how we’re on the border with Mexico?” 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s a fuck ton of drug smuggling. I couldn’t show you all of Pop’s land, but the Rio Grande runs along it, and if you go out to the edge of the property, sometimes you can spot people on boats.” 

“Maybe they’re fishing? Enjoying the sun? Not all boats on the river are smugglers...” 

“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced and frankly a bit paranoid. “Well, somehow, even with a heavy fucking border patrol presence and the DEA breathing down their necks, drugs are getting into Laredo—my money’s on the river.” 

“I can tell. So, you’ve just always hated drugs?” 

“No.” 

“No?”

Turning your head, you looked at his face, Javi meeting your eyes. 

“When I started elementary school, I didn’t speak a single word of English—had no idea what the fuck anyone was saying. They had me in the ESL program, but my regular teacher didn’t know Spanish, and I struggled. The kid I shared a desk with helped me.” There was a sad smile on his lips. “His name was Neil, and he came from one of the wealthier families in town, so he had a nanny who’d taught him some Spanish—he was my first best friend. If you remember from the photo albums, the random white kid with the curly brown hair, that was him.” You nodded. Chucho had said it was Javi’s friend when you’d been going through pictures, remembering him popping up through the ages they were in elementary school, not recalling if he was in any of the later photos. “As we got older, we drifted apart. His dad’s a hardass. He got into high school and pretty much wasn’t allowed to do anything that wasn’t academic or fucking extracurriculars ‘cause his dad wanted him to get into a big university. It was a lot of pressure, and he started smoking pot freshman year to relax—he got me to try it.” 

You gasped dramatically. 

“Javier, you snorted the mari-j-uana? You? A narc?” 

His eyes narrowed. 

“Did you just call me a fucking narc..? Snorted..? You don’t snort weed, baby…” 

“That’s something a narc would say,” you teased.  

He pinched your thigh, making you giggle. 

“I smoked it and didn’t like it. Not my thing—prefer booze.” 

“Like the narc you are,” you said, kissing his cheek. 

Javi sighed. 

“By junior year,” he continued, “he was under a lot of pressure, and I guess he asked his dealer for something stronger.” He inhaled deeply, letting the air out slowly, before he spoke again, “Kid overdosed.” 

“No,” you gasped for real this time. “I’m so sorry, Javi.” Throwing your arms around his neck, you hugged him, Javi pulling you closer. 

“Yeah, it was fucked.” There was an edge of anger in his tone. “They caught the guy who sold it to him, but at that time, police didn’t give a fuck about cocaine possession, pretty much got a slap on the fucking wrist, and they didn’t bother finding out his supplier. A great fucking kid with his whole life ahead of him, dead, and the man who caused it was out before I went off to college—didn’t sit right with me that Neil didn’t get any fucking justice.” 

“And so you helped take down Pablo Escobar and the Cali Cartel—Jesus Christ, Javier, you don’t fuck around. I think Neil would be proud of what you accomplished.”

“Maybe.” 

The frown was evident in his voice, leaning back to look at his face. It was clear what he was thinking, asking him, “Why don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

His eyes were on yours, “There’s still all the shit here.” He swallowed. “I was asked to go to Mexico after I took down Cali, but I was so fucking tired of all the bullshit.” 

You could see the exhaustion, sliding your fingers through the hair above each of his ears. 

“Babe, you’re one man. I know you want justice and to right all the wrongs, but you can’t single-handedly dismantle the drug trade—you did more than enough. Rest, let other people handle it.”

He let out a long sigh. 

“You’re right, Cielito.” He smiled softly. “I’ve got you now, and I’m so fucking happy about it.”

You smiled back. 

“Good,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him. 

When you pulled back, he asked, “What made you want to be a nurse?”

“Oh, when I was eight, my appendix burst, and I had to be hospitalized.”

“The scar,” he said, touching your belly. 

It was so long ago it was barely visible, it surprised you he’d even noticed. 

“Yeah, the scar.” You smiled. “My mom stayed home with my little brother, and aside from my dad being the doctor he is, checking that the surgery was done properly and I was healing okay, I was in the hospital alone for almost a week.” 

Javi was frowning. “Nobody was with you…?”

“Nope.” You shrugged. “But, this lovely nurse who had the daytime shift would keep me company as much as possible and make sure I wasn’t lonely. She was wonderful and so fucking funny. I just knew I wanted to be exactly like her—I wanted to make being in the hospital less scary and people smile even when they’re feeling miserable. So, nursing.”

His hand came up to cup your jaw, looking deep into your eyes. 

“It’s the perfect job for you—you’re so fucking warm and bright that I know people love you taking care of them ‘cause I sure as fuck do.”

It felt like you were melting at the sincerity in his voice. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but you’re not my patient,” you said. “You’re my boyfriend and get special boyfriend treatment, they just get silly jokes and compassion.”

“What’s the special boyfriend treatment?” He asked, head tilting in interest. 

“Cuddles, kisses, naked stuff, food, basically anything you want from me is yours.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, saying into your lips, “I like the sound of that.”

“I’m glad.”

He broke the kiss, meeting your gaze with a frown, “I’m, uh, gonna be honest—your family has left a bad fucking taste in my mouth, and I’m happy to meet them or talk to them on the phone, but I don’t know how I’d handle them treating you like shit.”

“Well, we’ll have to figure out different plans for Christmas, then.”

His frown deepened. 

“You don’t have to skip because of me...”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You waved away his concern. “You’re giving me an excuse, and I’m taking it. It’s bad enough I talk to my mom once a week or so—if I was strong, I’d go no contact, but I’d feel too guilty.” 

His eyes were big, the honesty showing as he said, “Whatever you choose to do, baby, I support you, and know that my family will welcome you with open arms.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked softly. 

He smiled, “Oh, yeah. Pop loves you, and I know everybody else will, too.”

“That makes me happy.” 

“You make me happy.” 

Laughing, you replied, “You’re so fucking cheesy, but—” you moved your face closer to ghost your lips over his “—I more than like you, a lot.” 

“I more than like you a lot, too.” He closed the space kissing you with such passion that you knew what he said was true, those three little words screaming in your brain. 

The sun was high up in the sky, the straw cowboy hat atop his head keeping it out of his eyes. It was hotter than hell today, the heat making sweat rise on his skin as he walked over the neatly cut grass, taking the same route he’d taken hundreds of times before, ignoring the slight ache in his knees. 

He came to a stop, groaning as he bent down a little to wipe away some dirt that had accumulated on top of the grey stone with one hand. The white leather ring box was slightly discolored from age, not as pristine as it once was. Chucho set it down where he had just cleaned, popping it open, the diamonds on the ring sparkling in the sunlight. 

Straightening, he said, “Mi amor, nuestro Javiercito conocio a una chica maravillosa (My love, our Javier met a wonderful girl).” 

His eyes tracked over the engraved letters of Antonia’s name, imagining how she’d react to the news, seeing so clearly in his mind that bright smile he’d loved so much and her excitedly saying, ‘Háblame de todo (Tell me everything).’ 

A smile was on his lips when he continued, “Yo la amo y tú también la amarías (I love her and you would love her too). Él va a casarse con ella y limpie tu anillo de compromiso para cuando él lo quiera (He’s going to marry her, and I had your engagement ring cleaned for when he wants it). I’m probably jumping the gun,” he chuckled. “Pero sabes que soy un romántico (But you know I’m a romantic).”

“Ojalá pudieras ver lo feliz que está con ella (I wish you could see how happy he is with her). Todo sonrisas, mi amor (All smiles, my love). Los que nos perdimos y pensé que nunca volveríamos a ver (The ones we missed and thought we’d never see again).” 

His eyes were starting to water, feeling his throat get tight. 

“Él está contento otra vez (He’s happy again). Ayer pasé horas con ella y ella es perfecta para el (I spent hours with her yesterday and she is perfect for him). Ella es amable, y muy divertida (She is kind and very funny). Puedo ver cuánto lo ama (I can see how much she loves him).” 

He chuckled again, thinking about what Javi’s Cielito had said the day before. 

“Ella dijo que mataría por probar tu comida (She said she would murder to try your food). Hubieron cocinado juntos y Javiercito los habría distraído a ambos (You would have cooked together and Javier would have distracted you both).” Chucho laughed. 

“Ellos son buenos juntos, mi amor (They are good together, my love). Me recuerdan a nosotros y estarán juntos para siempre, también (They remind me of us and they will be together forever, too).” He pressed a hand to the stone. “Te amo, mi media naranja (I love you, my soulmate). Déjame contarte sobre mi semana (Let me tell you about my week)...”

One month later…

The cordless phone was pressed to your ear, using your shoulder to keep it in place while you cooked, not paying attention to what your mother was saying, seeing as she’d been going on and on for the last—you checked your watch—fifteen minutes about how perfect your little brother was and all of the amazing things he’d done since the last time you spoke a week prior. 

“...and they’ve decided to try for another baby,” your mom gushed, unable to stop the look of disgust on your face.

“Wow, that’s so exciting,” you replied, not sounding excited at all. 

It was honestly such an odd thing how couples were so happy to announce they were having unprotected sex to their friends and family. 

Javi was running late coming over after work because he had an errand to do. The sauce was simmering in the pan, the noodles boiling, and the side salad was already prepared in a bowl on the kitchen table. 

“It’s high time you started thinking about settling down,” she said, making you groan, not wanting to have this discussion. “You know, your father was in Boston this weekend at a surgeon’s conference—he was the keynote speaker and ran into Daniel—Dr. Andrews. I miss Daniel, he was so wonderful and talented. I heard he’s up for an award for a new procedure he invented. Whatever happened between you two?” 

Daniel Andrews was a cardiothoracic surgeon you’d met five years ago while working at a hospital in Dallas. He was pretty with his blue eyes, perfectly styled hair, and clean-shaven face, honestly surprised he’d taken an interest in you, and so you’d dated for about six months—him even meeting your family, but it definitely wasn’t meant to last. 

“Remember he had the accident?” you replied. 

“What accident?” 

“When he slipped and fell into another nurse’s vagina.” 

“That is so vulgar!” She sounded appalled, and it made you smile. “Why are you like this? If you weren’t so… independent, you could find a nice doctor to settle down with, have his children, and become a stay-at-home mother like your sister-in-law.” 

“Wow, mom, it’s not the fifties anymore, and some women like having careers and don’t want to make motherhood their entire identity. I’m happy she loves being at home with her kids, but that’s not something that calls to me—I love working, and if I had children, I’d keep working after they were born, and my partner and I would have equal responsibility taking care of them.”

She scoffed. 

“It’s the mother’s job to rear the children while her husband provides for the family.” 

“I think you personally just caused a regression in women’s rights, and another thing—” You were getting heated. “—I don’t need to meet a ‘nice doctor,’ I’m dating a wonderful man, thank you very much.” 

“The farmer?” The disdain was evident in her tone, and it pissed you off. 

With how your parents had welcomed your exes and how charming Javier was, you assumed they’d like him, too, especially since he’s so amazing. It was your mistake to make assumptions because when you finally revealed you were seeing someone, and your mother asked what he did at the hospital, finding out he didn’t work there, she was not very welcoming and outright dismissive of your relationship. 

“I’ve told you multiple times he’s a rancher—Javier told you he’s a rancher on his dad’s ranch.” 

She’d talked to him one night when he’d answered your house phone, and to your absolute horror, she’d grilled him about his job and how much money he made before you could take the receiver from him. 

“Right, but he isn’t a serious relationship—just something to work out of your system, and eventually, you’ll meet a man who makes actual money and can take care of you.” 

Your blood was boiling, rage making your heart pound, absolutely done with the bullshit. 

“We’re very serious, for your information, and I don’t give a flying fuck how much money he makes because I can easily support the both of us with only my job, that I, a woman with a degree, work!” you yelled. There was the sound of knocking on the front door. “Well, I’ve got to go. My very serious boyfriend, who I plan on marrying, is here! Have a nice night, mother,” you spat, ending the call, the phone thudding across the counter. 

Quickly, you were heading out of the kitchen, relief washing over you when you pulled open the door to find Javi standing there with a concerned look holding a small bouquet of sunflowers. Seeing him and the flowers, Javi always bringing you a new bouquet every Monday had you going soft. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I thought I heard yelling?” 

“My mom,” you sighed, anger flashing across his face. 

“Fuck.” He stepped forward to pull you into his arms while still holding the sunflowers, walking you into the apartment and closing the door with his foot, hugging you tight in the entryway. 

Leaning back, he held your chin with two fingers, moving to kiss you so tenderly it made your heart squeeze. Breaking it, he looked at you with round eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

His presence had calmness spreading through you, so happy he was there. 

“I’ll tell you while I finish making dinner.” 

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll take care of the flowers.” 

You smiled. “You’re the best.” Quickly kissing him, Javi toed off his shoes by the front door and emptied his pockets in the bowl on the console table in the entryway, following you back into the kitchen. 

You moved the sauce to a cold burner before getting the strainer out of a cabinet, putting it in the sink, and pouring in the pot of noodles while your boyfriend discarded the dead flowers currently on the dining table into the trash. He grabbed scissors, expertly trimming the stems on the new ones before sidling up next to you to fill a clear glass vase with fresh water. 

It was nice how comfortable the two of you moved about the kitchen together, Javi bumping his hip against yours and kissing your hair to make you smile, him waiting for you to start talking. 

Sighing loudly, you finally spoke, “Like, because I’m not a fucking doctor, the next best thing for me to be is the wife of one, popping out kids and raising them.It’s just so fucking sexist.” 

Javi was listening while he arranged the sunflowers in the vase. 

“It’s fucked up,” he mused. 

Shaking out the rest of the water from the pasta, you continued, “Don’t get me wrong, stay-at-home moms work their asses off, but I never saw myself being one—I wanna be a nurse in a hospital, doing the thing I love.” The noodles were put back into the pot and onto the stove, pouring in the sauce, Javi taking the flowers over to the kitchen table and setting them in the middle. “It’s just so fucking exhausting not being good enough.” 

Arms wrapped around your middle, Javi hugging you tight, his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “Fuck what your mom thinks. You’re incredible and hardworking. No one gets to tell you how to live your life.” 

It had you going gooey, tears threatening to spill, stirring the pasta. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

He kissed the side of your neck. 

“You’re welcome.”

“Dinners ready.” 

“I’ll get water for us.” 

The dining room wasn’t much of a room but more of an attachment to the kitchen that featured a two-person table and a window that you’d shut the blinds on so you had privacy while you ate. 

The salad bowl was next to the flowers, Javi sitting across from you, each with your plates full of food.

“How are Daphne and Velma?” you asked before taking a bite. Those were the two calves Javi had basically raised from birth that you both jokingly called your bovine children.

A sweet look came over his face, smiling as he said, “Our hijas (daughters) are doing great with the rest of the herd and picked up grazing quickly, but I knew they would.” 

He sounds like a proud father, and it makes you wonder if he’d be the same with his human children, deep down, knowing he would—he’d be a fantastic dad, ignoring the sting of sadness that he doesn’t want to be one.

Grinning, you reply, “We’ll have to go have a picnic with them next weekend.” 

During the week, sometimes you’d meet Javi out at the ranch after you got off work, and the two of you would sit in his dad’s backyard eating dinner with the two little cows lying down next to you both. With them now out on the land, it’d require a horseback ride, but you loved the picnics and the two girls, who were like giant puppies, always happy to see you guys. 

“They’d love it,” he replied. “Any other news?” Javi asked as he started digging into his food with gusto. 

“You know, the same shit,” you answered, waving your fork. “Mandatory fifteen to twenty minutes of waxing poetic about my brother. Oh, he’s fucking his wife raw now.” 

He choked, coughing as he grabbed his water to take a big drink. 

“Sorry!” you exclaimed. 

Setting the glass down, his voice was rough, looking confused, “It’s okay—why do you know that..?” 

“They’re trying for a baby—like people just broadcast that? ‘We’re trying for a baby,’ wow, thank you so much for letting me know you’re only serving cream pies. My boyfriend fucks me raw on the daily, too. Love when he comes inside me, but I’m not telling my fucking parents.” 

His cheeks were flushed, clearing his throat while he reached across the table to hold your free hand. “Baby, are you okay?” he asked gently. 

“Yeah, sorry, it wasn’t a good phone call—it’s never a good fucking call, and recently they’ve been worse.” 

“I’m sorry.” His thumb stroked over the back of your hand, frowning as he said, “It’s all my fucking fault.” 

“Don’t say that,” you replied in a serious tone. “It’s not your fault, and you’ve done nothing wrong. They’re too fucking stuck up, and after today, I think I’m done trying—there’s no point with how set in their ways they are.” You were getting angry again over what your mother had said. “I won’t fucking sit back and let anyone talk shit about you, my family included, so they can get fucked. I’ve got you, and that’s all that fucking matters.” 

His eyes were misty, squeezing your hand, saying barely above a whisper, “You’d choose me?” 

“I am choosing you. Zero hesitation. Next time she calls, I’m letting her know if she says anything negative, then it’s over, and I won’t be answering anymore.” 

He was giving you that look, the one where you could see in his eyes how much he loved you and that he was struggling not to just blurt the words out loud. 

“You know I support you,” he said thickly. “Whatever makes you happy.” 

“You make me happy.” 

He chuckled. 

“You make me happy, too. Want me to eat you out after dinner?” 

That had you perking up, nodding your head, “Yes, that would be wonderful. I planned to serve you ice cream for dessert, but if you’d prefer pussy…” 

He crookedly smiled. 

“I always prefer pussy for dessert,” he said, winking, making you laugh. 

Focusing on eating, it was quiet as you forked bites into your mouths, Javi groaning around bites. He ate like he hadn’t eaten all day, which you knew was a lie. 

“Slow down,” you giggled. 

“No. It’s too fucking good.” 

His plate was empty before yours, serving himself up seconds and finally taking his time. 

He was very nonchalant when he spoke like it wasn’t anything to get excited about, his eyes on his plate, saying after swallowing a bite, “I start a new job next month.” 

The sentence had you pausing, your fork inches from your face now in limbo. Your eyebrows knit together, eyes narrowing, trying to process the words, thinking maybe you’d misheard. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” you asked. 

“I start a new job next month. Is this a new recipe?” 

“Yeah… what do you mean a new job? Like something different at the ranch?” 

He’d told you he was happy working for his dad, finding the manual labor pretty relaxing compared to what he’d been doing with the DEA, and preferring the animals to people. 

“No,” he answered between bites, shaking his head. “Sheriff hired me.” 

“The Sheriff hired you…?” 

Why would he want to get back into law enforcement? He’d been through so much in South America and put it all behind him to live his life, and now he was going back? This wasn’t making any sense to you—the DEA exhausted him, he was miserable, and now he suddenly wants to be a cop again? 

Finally looking at you, he set his fork down, you doing the same. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Since I came back to the states, agencies all over the entire fucking country have been trying to get me to work for them—the Webb County Sheriff has been up my ass about it, making house calls and sending letters trying to get me. I went through all the job offers I’ve gotten, found the one with the best shit, went to the Sheriff today, and told him if he matches it, I’ll work for him. He did.” Javi grinned, looking pleased with himself. 

“Okay…” you said slowly. “I’m proud of you for swindling cops, but why are you getting back into law enforcement? I thought you were done after Colombia? What about your dad, the ranch, Daphne and Velma?” 

“Our hijas (daughters) will be okay. We can keep going out there during the week, maybe a day on the weekend, if you want. They’ve got all the other cattle to keep them company, but they’d love seeing us, Pop, too.” 

“We can do that…” 

“And the ranch will keep going without me—they’ve got it handled. It was time I got a job.” 

“You have a job.” 

“I needed a real job.” 

“Your current job is pretty fucking real,” you pointed out.

He sighed, his eyes darting away. 

“I need a job that I can support you with,” he said. 

That had you so taken aback you jolted. 

What was he talking about supporting you? As you told your mom, you made more than enough money to care of both of you... Shit, your mom. 

“Javi, is this because my mother gave you the third degree over what you do for work?” 

His eyes met yours, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about since we started dating, and your mom sure as fuck didn’t help—but I do need to be able to take care of you.” 

Take care of you? What the fuck? Does he expect you to quit your job? You were literally just so fucking upset with your mother for being sexist, her saying it was the man’s job to provide for his family, and now Javi had your hackles rising; this was so unlike him. 

“I don’t need you to take care of me financially, Javier,” you said carefully. “Things are perfectly fine how they are, and there’s really no reason for you to be getting a new job.” 

You’d thought what the two of you had was great, working similar schedules and spending all of your free time together. If he became a cop, you doubted he’d have that same regularity, expecting he’d work long hours. 

He let out a long breath, pressing his fingers to his forehead. 

“Things aren’t fine, Cielito.” 

Your body tensed, dread coming over you. 

“What?” you asked softly, your eyes beginning to burn, afraid of what he was going to say, automatically thinking the worst, like he didn’t want to be with you anymore, or he was unhappy, maybe that he hated your career. You felt sick to your stomach, pushing your plate away. 

His hand ran through his hair, meeting your gaze. 

“I’ve got money saved from the DEA, and the change Pop pays me to work, but when I think of renting an apartment or buying a fucking house, it’s not enough long term. I’m here all the time, staying over, eating your amazing fucking food, and I haven’t pitched in on your rent and only pick up groceries when you ask. I need a real job to provide you with the life you deserve.” 

You had to take a deep breath, processing what he said because now you were upset that he hadn’t been listening about how you wanted to work and didn’t need a man to take care of you. Not once had you mentioned a need for money, frankly living quite comfortably, and this just sounded like he hated that you made more than him, and he needed to save his ego by getting a better-paying job. 

“Firstly,” you started, trying to keep your voice even, “I don’t need you to pitch in. I’m happy to offer my home and food to you because you’re my boyfriend, the one I more than like, who always pays when we eat out. Secondly, I was employed and completely self-sufficient before you came along, and I am beyond capable of contributing my share and more for both of us. Thirdly, I will not be told that you need to work a dangerous fucking job that you hated, all for the archaic notion that because you’re the man, you need to ‘support me.’ Not in this house, not ever, Javier.” 

His jaw flexed, his right hand clenching, saying in a tone that brokered no argument, “I’m not letting you be the sole provider in this relationship.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, your mouth falling open at his audacity, hitting your fucking limit for this shit today. 

“Excuse me?” Your voice rose. “You’re not letting me?! Why can’t I, a woman, provide for us?!” 

His eyes narrowed in confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about? This has nothing to do with you being a woman. I respect you! I respect women!” he exclaimed, exasperated. 

“You said you needed to take care of me and that I couldn’t support us!” you shouted, your chair scraping across the floor as you stood up, staring down at him with your hands on the table. “That doesn’t sound very fucking feminist, Javier! What, are you going to tell me to quit my job, too?! Have me be your good little housewife who waits on you hand and foot?!” 

His face reddened, scrunching up in anger, getting up from his seat so forcefully it slammed into the wall behind him, “You’re not getting what I’m fucking saying!” he yelled. “You’re turning this into something it’s fucking not!” 

“Then what the FUCK are you trying to say, Javier Jesús?!” 

Your heart was pounding hard, blood rushing in your ears, so fucking angry it had your stomach in knots, not believing your sweet boyfriend was being such a dick. He was mad, too, seeing it on his face and how he was so tense, his hands clenched tight at his sides. 

He knew you hated your mother implying you needed a man to take care of you, and then he decided it was time to show his true colors and that he wanted to do just that—have you rely on him, be the man of the house, and make the most money. You felt off balance because it made no fucking sense. This was not the Javi you knew and loved. Your Javi respected your job, your hardwork, you, and he’d never take away your agency.  

“I’m trying to fucking tell you I love you!” he shouted. 

It felt like time had stopped, your eyes going big at his outburst, stunned—speechless—not imagining this would be how he’d finally tell you those three words you’d been waiting so long to hear. It shocked you so much that the hot anger inside you fizzled out as if you were doused in cold water. 

It was clear how upset he was with the tears in his eyes, lowering his voice, his words coming out thicker from emotion, “I love you so fucking much,” he continued. “I want to spend the rest of my fucking life with you,” he choked on the last word, a stray tear falling down his cheek. His gaze was locked on yours, seeing the truth in the depths of his eyes. “I love you, Cielito, and me getting a job and wanting to pay for shit isn’t me trying to fucking control you, fuck, I’d never want that. That’s not me. It’s not me being fucking better than you either, and it has absolutely nothing to do with you being a woman.” His fingers slid through his hair, his other hand on his hip. “We’re building our future together, and I want us contributing equally—I don’t think it’s fucking fair that you’re taking the brunt of the money shit.” He inhaled deeply. “I want us to be equals—you’re my equal, my other half, my fuckin’ media naranja (soulmate). I want to share my life with you, share everything with you, and live with you in a bigger apartment or a house, fucking anywhere that I don’t have to see Mrs. Hernandez glaring at me like she wants me dead ‘cause you were screaming my name the night before.” 

The last bit had you laughing, tears falling down your cheeks, it all finally making sense. This was your Javi—the man who had the utmost respect for women, hated toxic masculinity, was fair and loved you. He was a good man, the best you knew, and you felt stupid for jumping to conclusions that made zero sense for his character. 

Standing up straight, wiping your eyes, and smiling, you replied, “I love you, too, and I’m so happy you said it.”

He ducked his head, looking a bit sheepish. 

“I was gonna tell you after dinner…”

“Wait, what?” 

Looking at you, he said, “It’s so fucking stupid, and I should’ve told you the moment I knew I loved you, but I was scared. So fucking scared that it was too soon, and it had to be too good to be true, except it wasn’t—it was real.” His hands were on his hips, weight to one side. “A couple of weeks ago, I started figuring my shit out, looking into how much money I had and the cost of living—crunching the fuck out of the numbers. I’ve got a pretty good amount saved up since the government basically paid for everything while I was in Colombia. It’s just not enough for me to retire early—too young. So, it was time for me to return to work because I love you, and we’re equal in everything else, like splitting chores and taking turns cooking. I think we’re pretty fucking good at this relationship shit.” 

“I think we are, too,” you giggled. 

He smiled, nodding, “Yeah, we are. I got the job, and it just felt like everything came together, you know? The universe or whatever the fuck was confirming we’re meant to be together, that it was fucking time for me to just tell you, and I rehearsed how I would say it on the drive here.” He sighed, “But your mom kinda fucked things up, and you didn’t react to my news the way I thought you would…” 

“I’m so sorry, the whole conversation with her was a clusterfuck, and then you hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, some of it’s my fault for not saying the right thing, and I’m sorry for that and also for yelling at you.” He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, a sad frown on his lips. “I didn’t like that shit.” 

Guilt was roiling in your gut, feeling so fucking terrible. 

“Javi, I am so insanely sorry that I lost my cool and upset you. I’ll do better not to let it happen again and make sure that we communicate like adults.” He nodded. “Are we okay?” you asked. 

Smiling, he answered, “Yeah, we’re okay. We’re more than okay.” 

“Good.” You felt relieved, your mouth curling in a little smile. “Wanna know a secret?” you asked. 

His head slightly tilted in curiosity. 

“Yeah?” 

“You told me you loved me before you fell asleep Friday night in Spanish.” He’d whispered it when he thought you were sleeping. “I fucking knew you were gonna break soon,” you said, grinning.  

Flush appeared on his cheeks, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“Shit, I usually wait for you to start snoring.” 

“I don’t snore.” It came out defensive. “You snore,” you accused, pointing at him. 

He smiled. 

“You snore, baby. It’s cute. You wanna know a secret?” 

“Is it that you’re lying about me snoring?” 

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Something better.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Remember that first time we went over to Pop’s last month?” 

“Yes?” 

“That’s the first time que dije te amo en español (I said I love you in Spanish). Told you every night after.” 

He, along with some of your coworkers, had been helping you learn Spanish, which was your second language when you were in school.

“Why is that so romantic?” you asked. “Friday, I said it back in English, but, te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love).” 

He gave you a beaming smile, pressing his hand over his heart.

“Te amo con todo mi corazón—eres el amor de mi vida (I love you with all my heart—you’re the love of my life).” 

There was a possibility you would melt into a puddle, hearing and seeing his devotion for you. Remembering what you were discussing had you sobering up, needing to talk about the matter at hand, worry beginning to well up inside you.

“You’re such a fucking sweetheart! Ugh, I love you so much.” Taking a deep breath, you said, “We’ll get back to being disgustingly in love in a minute. I just need to know why you didn’t talk to me about getting a job? And why you’re doing law enforcement again?” You were frowning, continuing in a softer voice, “You’re going to hate it and be so fucking miserable you’ll end up resenting me.” You worried at your lip between your teeth. 

There was no point in sugarcoating your fear. Colombia fucked him up, and he was still recovering from it; going back to that kind of job again won’t be healthy for him—guilt will eat at you because he’d be doing it for you, and he’d absolutely resent you for it, you didn’t see it going any other way. 

He looked like he’d been slapped. Suddenly, he was moving around the table, his big hands cradling your face, making you look at him. 

“Resent you?” His voice was gentle. “How the fuck—” he choked. “I could never resent you. Cielito, baby, no, I love you too fucking much. It’s nothing like the shit I did with the DEA, I’d be consulting.” His thumbs stroked over your cheeks. “Basically, I’d be doing training and offering my expertise—a fucking office job, really, nothing dangerous, no stress, I get  to choose my schedule, so I lined it up with yours. Pays pretty fucking good, too, and uh—“ He looked a little nervous. “—I thought when your lease was up, we could see about getting a bigger place together.” 

It was a relief to hear that what he’d be doing at the Sheriff’s department would be different from his previous work; now feeling much better about everything and happy, so fucking happy. 

“Javi, I own this apartment,” you said. 

His eyes widened in surprise.  

“What..?” 

“It’s a condo that I bought with cash. The big south-facing windows sold me, and I figured it’d be a better investment than renting,” you answered, shrugging. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Planned on living here at least a year to make sure I loved my job, then wanted to buy a house—need room for more plants and a garden.” 

That was your dream, planning on a little house for just you, but now you’d need something a bit bigger with Javi. 

He looked a little downtrodden, his eyes moving away from yours.

“Yeah, that’d make sense...” 

“Javi?”

Hopeful big brown eyes met yours. 

“Yes, Cielito?” 

“Wanna move in with me, and then we can buy a house together next year?” 

He visibly brightened, thinking his dimpled smile could outshine the sun, a happy chuckle coming from his throat, crushing his mouth against yours, kissing you passionately, reverently, feeling his joy. 

“Yes,” he murmured into your lips. “Fuck, yes. Please. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Happiness was overflowing inside you, thinking it would seep out of your pores, flinging your arms around his neck, Javi pulling you into his embrace, holding you so close to his body like he was trying to fuse you together, his mouth never leaving yours. 

For so long, you’d known how he felt, seeing it so clearly in how he looked at you, hearing it in the words he said, feeling it in his touches. He may not have said the sentence out loud, but he still made you feel loved regardless. Now you’ve heard those three little words that, when said from his lips, felt like the heavens above had opened wide, showering you in contented bliss, spreading the warm fuzziness through your body, and cementing in your brain that he was it—he was home, and now you’d share a home, a life, and your future with him. 

Javier Peña loved you, and you loved him, and nothing else in the world seemed truer than that fact. 

Neediness hit you like a freight train, wanting him inside you so badly there was a throbbing ache between your legs, Javi greedily licking into your mouth and swallowing your moans, his tongue tasting every bit of you he could reach. 

The tension rose until you couldn’t take it anymore, breaking the kiss, Javi chasing your lips as you leaned back to start opening his shirt's buttons. His hand cupped your jaw, his lust-blown eyes on your face. 

“I fucking love you,” he said, moving to kiss you again, your fingers getting the last button undone, pushing the material off his shoulders, him shrugging it off. 

Grabbing the bottom of your cotton t-shirt, his mouth left yours to get it over your head.

“I fucking love you, too,” you panted, and he grinned, kissing you hard. 

The majority of things Javier and you were on the same page about—pineapple did not belong on pizza, coffee was necessary for survival, Coca-Cola is superior to Pepsi, Star Wars is better than Star Trek—and many more you were having trouble remembering, because you both understood each other so well, that you knew at this moment your clothes needed to come off as soon as possible, and you weren’t making it out of the kitchen. 

There was eagerness, impatience, and kissing as you stripped one another—which probably wasn’t the best decision when Javi was trying to peel off one of his socks and ended up falling backward onto his bare ass, the air leaving him in a grunt.

Your hand flew to your mouth, unable to stop yourself from chortling while standing completely nude, him trying his damndest to keep a straight face, laughter sputtering out of him with a big, shining grin. 

“Your poor little ass!” you giggled. 

The rogue sock was thrown haphazardly, finding yourself pulled down into his naked lap, your knees bracketing his thighs. 

“My ass is fine,” he chuckled, his lips finding yours again. Big hands grabbed the globes of your backside, him saying into your lips, “Your ass is more than fine.” Squeezing it and pulling you forward to feel the hard line of his cock pressed between you, making you rub your wet cunt against him, moaning at how it was hitting your clit just right to have sparks igniting in your belly. 

“Javi,” you gasped. 

Kisses were pressed along your jaw, moving lower to your neck, the roll of your hips coating his length in your arousal. 

“God, I love you.” His voice was muffled in your skin. He ducked his head down, pulling your hard nipple into his hot mouth, you moaning at the sharp jolt of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Javi, let me sit on your dick,” you whined, wanting to ease the needy ache between your legs. 

He came off your stiff peak with a wet pop, meeting your eyes, him looking at you with such a tender expression. 

“It’s yours,” he rasped. “I’m yours—I love you.” 

Every time he said it, a thrill ran through you, a smile immediately on your lips, the happiness consuming you. 

“I love you, too,” you replied, holding his cheeks. “And I’m yours—forever.” 

That had him kissing you, feeling him smiling into it, you pushing on him to lay down flat on his back, keeping your mouth on his. 

Moving to settle yourself over his hips, you held yourself up with one hand beside his head, the other moving between your bodies, lifting up to guide him to your entrance. Sinking down had you both moaning, feeling him stretching you to your limits, savoring the slight burn as everything pulled taut inside you, so incredibly full when you bottomed out. 

He’s been inside you so many times you’ve lost count—double digits? Possibly triple? You’re not sure, and even though you’re intimately familiar with the feeling of his dick filling you, nothing had prepared you for this—it had both of your jaws going slack, your eyes locked on each other, staring in wonder at how perfect it felt. The world faded away. Nothing else mattered but the two of you, your love and devotion; this feeling that mind, body, and soul, you were one person in two bodies, and now you were whole once more. 

“Fuck,” Javi whispered in awe. 

“Do you feel it, too?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, his hands coming up to your face. His throat worked, swallowing hard, his eyes shinier, voice deeper, raspier, “Te amo tanto, no puedo vivir sin ti, mi Cielito (I love you so much, I can’t live without you, my Cielito).” You could see and hear the honesty in his words, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling the prickle of tears. “No puedo respirar sin ti—me muero sin ti (I can’t breathe without you—I’d die without you).” 

“Javier, you can’t just say exceptionally romantic things during sex and make me cry,” you sniffled. 

He chuckled, lifting his head to kiss you. 

“Yes, I can,” he murmured against your lips, his broad palms moving to skim along your back. Nipping at your chin, he grabbed your ass. “You feel so fucking good. How is it better?” 

“Magic.” 

He was thinking it over. 

“Your pussy is pretty fucking magical.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggled, reaching behind you to grab his hand, moving to press it beside his head, one then the other, interlacing your fingers and holding his hands—him happily, letting you pin him down. 

“It’s the truth.” 

“I’m gonna start calling your dick a ‘magic stick,’” you replied, circling your hips to end the sentence, watching in delight when his mouth fell open. 

“You think my dick is magic?” he gasped. 

Rocking on him, feeling him so deep inside you, answering breathily, “Absolutely, it’s fucking magic how perfectly it fills me—doesn’t leave any empty room.” 

He groaned, his cock jerking inside you, making you smile. 

“Can, uh—” he was breathing a little heavier “—can you stay still and kiss me?” he asked, looking up at you with those big eyes of his. 

“Of course, baby.” Lowering your head, pressing your body into his, staying seated as you gave him what he wanted, kissing him. 

You understood what he wanted completely—that ache in your core quelled by him filling you, loving having him inside you, feeling him throbbing and every vein and ridge pressing up against your sensitive walls, him so hot and hard. Slick was soaking him, gathering where you were joined, knowing it was probably dripping down him, happy to stay like this as long as he wanted, comfortable; Your body relaxing, melting into him, contentedness warming your very soul. 

He kissed you fervently, his tongue pressing between your lips to slide along your own, squeezing your hands beside his head, the two of you losing yourselves to each other, basking in one another—your bodies intertwined so tightly, it all blurring where you ended and he began. 

It was almost too much how he encompassed everything. Your brain could think of nothing else but him—feeling him, tasting him, hearing him, seeing him, smelling him–it was all Javi, realizing nobody else had ever affected you like he does, nobody else had ever treated you like he does, nobody else had ever loved you like he does. 

The saddest part was you were positive that went for family, too—Javier was the only person to ever truly love you, but he was the only man you’ve ever truly loved, too. 

The kissing became languid, minutes passing with him stuffed deep inside you, feeling so full and getting worked up from all the emotions you were feeling—happiness, relief, joy, tenderness, love. You were fluttering around him, your tongues tangling, beginning to squirm with the need for friction.

Breaking the kiss, he asked, “Need to come, mi amor?” through labored breaths. 

“Yes.” 

His hooded eyes showed earnestness, immediately saying, “Use me, Cielito. Take what you need. I’m yours.” 

“Fuck, I love you,” she said. 

He felt her words in his heart, them dancing across his skin, leaving warmth in their wake that seeped down into his bones, pretty sure he might be drunk on her—feeling euphoric, floaty, so unbelievably happy that it should be illegal. This was the high they tried to achieve in manufacturing drugs, something so addictive the user won’t want to stop, and Javier was hooked; addicted, gone, letting himself enjoy this bliss and the high of hearing her tell him she loved him. 

She loved him. 

It was embarrassing how giddy it made him feel, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know how she felt—she’d made it known without saying the words, leaving little doubt in his mind. Everything she did, and said, made Javier feel how much she loved him, but hearing her say the sentence out loud made it real; it brought life to the three little words that would title the next chapter of their lives together and solidified how they felt for each other. 

Add in her asking him to move in with her, and he was the happiest man on the entire fucking planet. 

His throbbing cock was buried to the root inside her, feeling her velvety walls pulsing, burning around him, so wet he could feel her dripping, soaking him in her slick. Sweat had their bodies sticking together, neither giving a single fuck, her face so close he could feel her breathing. 

“I love you, too,” he replied. He’d never tire of saying it, planning to tell her every single day for the rest of their lives because she needed to know—she had to be aware of how he felt and that his love for her grew stronger the longer they were together. 

Her mouth collided with his in a heated kiss that was over too soon. Unclasping her hands from his, she moved them to his chest, leveraging herself to sit up on top of him. A small noise left his throat as she rolled her hips. His fingers itched to touch her, grabbing her hips before moving over the soft, supple skin of her belly, up to palm the familiar weight of her breasts, her breath hitching when he tweaked her pebbled nipples between his fingers. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he husked. 

The shitty hanging light over the dining room table glowed behind her, making her look ethereal, angelic, a goddess above him chasing her bliss. He was enraptured by how she looked with her eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, watching her throat work as she swallowed her moans—thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and she loved him. 

She started moving, working herself up and down his dick, her body shivering in pleasure, feeling her cunt squeezing him tightly as she slickly slid along him. She felt so fucking good that it had his breath going shaky, his heart hammering in his chest. The pressure was slowly building at the base of his spine, so turned on by how she was riding him, finding it so fucking sexy watching her take what she needed and using him to feel good. 

It was true that he loved getting her off and probably knew her body as well as his own, learning all the little things that turned her on and got her there. He was aware that if he played with her clit, it’d have her coming quickly; teasing her tits enough could get her to finish, too, but he wasn’t the one calling the shots right now; she was in control—she had the power, and he’d do anything she asked. 

Her heavy-lidded eyes met his, making his cock twitch. 

“Touch me,” she moaned. 

Quickly he was pressing his thumb to her clit, rubbing it the way he knew she liked it, his mouth falling open when she clenched around him. Her moans were getting louder, it getting even wetter between her legs, and he knew she was almost there. 

He was breathing hard. “You gonna come, Cielito?” he asked. “You gonna let me feel you?” 

“Yes,” she gasped. “So close.” 

“I know you are, baby.” He pressed a little harder. “Wanna feel you come. Can you do that for me, mi amor? Be my good girl and come for me?” 

“Yes, Javi,” she moaned. 

Her thighs were quivering, and the way her cunt was beginning to spasm had him feeling dizzy, ignoring the heat growing in his belly. 

“Dámelo, mi amor, give it to me. (Give it to me, my love).”

It wasn’t much longer that her body was tensing up, crying out his name as she came, her clenching down hard around him. 

“So good to me,” he groaned. “My good girl. Te amo, mi Cielito (I love you, my Cielito).”

He grit his teeth, grabbing onto her ass, and started thrusting up into her to extend her high, grunting as he pistoned. Her moans were stuttered, digging her nails into his chest, and when he came to a stop, needing to catch his breath, she’d left half-moon imprints in his skin. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” she croaked. 

His head came up to look at her. 

“What?” he panted. 

She had a lazy smile on her lips. 

“I’m gonna marry the man I love one day, and that’s you.” She poked him in the chest. 

A laugh escaped him at how adorably fucked out of her mind she looked, groaning as he moved to sit up, an arm around her back to keep her on him, spreading his legs with her in his lap. 

They were face to face now, him smiling. 

Leaning in, he nudged his nose against hers. “You’re gonna marry me one day, huh?” he asked. 

She slid the fingers of one hand into the hair at the back of his head, pressing the other to his cheek. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re my dream man; you check off all of my boxes.” 

Her thighs were on either side of his hips, his hands gripping her ass, helping her to start moving on him, pressing a soft kiss to her chin. 

“What’s on the list?” he asked against her skin, moving to peck one side of her mouth, then the other. 

“He’s gotta be loyal.” 

“I am,” he replied, kissing her jaw. 

She was sinking down his hard cock slowly, canting her hips to get a better angle. 

“He’s gotta love me.” 

“I do.” A peck to her cheek.

She listed the items, rising up on her knees and falling back down, Javier responding, kissing anywhere he could reach that wasn’t her lips. 

“Considerate.” 

“I try.” One over her pulse point. 

“Affectionate.” 

“Always.” A kiss to the tip of her nose. 

There wasn’t any rush, her rocking in his lap, sliding along his length smoothly, her inner walls massaging him.

“Romantic.” 

“I am,” he said, pecking the side of her mouth again. 

“Fun.” 

His lips paused, her continuing to slowly ride him. 

“Maybe?”

“You are.” 

“I am.” He smiled, kissing her other cheek.

“Easy going.” 

“I try.” A press of his lips under her jaw. 

“Gives me his pickles.” 

That had his head coming up to meet her eyes, his eyebrow quirked. 

“My dick?” he asked. 

She gave him a look, slowing to a grind, her arousal wetting his lap. 

“I said ‘pickles,’ not ‘pickle,’ Javier. Literal pickles.” A smirk pulled up on her face. “But, yeah, your dick, too.” 

He chuckled, finally kissing her mouth.

“You can have both,” he murmured into her lips.

She held onto his shoulders as she started moving faster, his mouth falling open in a moan, her all warm and wet, fucking herself on his cock. The knot was tightening in his belly, their eyes locked on each other, groaning when she nipped at his bottom lip. 

He could feel himself getting closer, her slowing down, grinding on him as they lazily kissed before pressing their foreheads together. They stared into each other’s glazed-over eyes while they shared breaths, him helping her move with his grip on her ass. 

There wasn’t any other place he’d rather be than right here, with the woman he loved, who he knew without a doubt he was going to marry one day. 

She picked up in pace again, sweat beading on her forehead, his lap wet from her slick, letting her control the speed and intensity. Javier was happily at her mercy, feeling their connection of the love they shared, taking their time, and being in the moment—zero pressure, just doing what felt good and enjoying one another. They found themselves kissing when the need became too high, wanting to feel the other’s mouth—quick kisses or drawn-out ones, biting lips, and tangling tongues. 

He knew he’d come soon, could feel it building inside him, but wanting to stay like this for as long as possible. 

Through panting breaths, she asked, “What’s on your dream girl list?” 

He was so fucking lost with her fucking him that he answered in a weak voice, “What?” 

“Your dream girl. What’s on your list?” 

There was only one answer that was coming through his pleasure-addled brain. 

“You,” he gasped. 

She grinned. 

“I love you,” she said. 

He was quick to reply, “I love you, too.” Kissing her until it got sloppy, breaking apart when she started riding him fast and hard, Javier’s eyes squeezing shut, whimpering, his body trembling with the tension winding tighter inside him—he was so close, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

His eyes went wide when she clenched around him on a downstroke, her continuing to do it. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whined. 

A knowing smirk was on her lips. 

“You gonna come for me, Javi, baby?” she panted. 

She was doing it on purpose, riding him hard and tightening up to squeeze his dick over and over, trying to fucking finish him. 

He smacked her ass, making her laugh. 

“You’re—” he gulped, it hard to speak when it felt like he was going to explode “—you’re playing fucking dirty.” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

His insides were burning up, the pressure getting to the point that he was done for. It was over—his cock thickening, falling over the edge with a guttural moan, her sitting flush against him as he came, gushing so deep inside her he’d be in her for days. 

Euphoria had his mind going blank and body lax, her pulling his head into her tits, cushioning him on the pillowy softness as he came down. 

He was in heaven. 

Both literally and figuratively. 

Your fingers rubbed through Javi’s sweat-soaked hair, his face pressed into your bosom. 

His shoulders started shaking before you felt his hot breaths and heard his muffled laughter. 

“What’s so funny, Chuckles?” you asked. 

He said something into your chest, unable to make out the words.

“Gonna need you to get out of the boobies.” 

Lifting his head, he looked beyond amused, him trying to hold back his laughs. 

“You’re my Cielito,” he said. 

“Yes…” 

“My little heaven.” Air left his nose in a snort, having to compose himself. “I’m literally inside heaven.” His breath sputtered, his eyes crinkling at the edges as a short burst of laughter sounded from him, ending in his body silently quaking, smiling from ear to ear. You couldn’t keep a straight face, joining in the merriment. 

“You’re so fucking dumb,” you laughed, playfully slapping his shoulder. 

His arms pulled you in for a hug, shoving your face in his neck, the two of you working out the giggles in your system, bodies shaking against each other. 

It took a minute for him to calm down, finally saying, “But you love me.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, his hands rubbing along your bare back.

“I do.” Moving your head to look into his eyes. “I love you very much.” 

His chocolate brown eyes were shining brightly, giving you a dimpled grin. 

“I love you, too, Cielito.” He kissed you sweetly, pulling back to hold your face, as he said, “Mi vida estaría vacía sin ti (My life would be empty without you). Te amo más que a nada y soy feliz de compartir de mi vida contigo a mi lado (I love you more than anything and I’m happy to share my life with you by my side). Eres el amor de mi vida y mi media naranja (You are the love of my life and my soulmate). Te amo, mi Cielito (I love you, my Cielito).” Your eyes were watering, holding the tears at bay, his lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss that had you sighing happily. Breaking it, he asked, “Do you need me to translate?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “I got it, and you can’t just say exceptionally romantic things after post sex giggles to make me cry.” You were so fucking happy, it was taking everything in you to keep from crying. “It’s rude.” 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. He kissed you, saying into your lips, “I’m gonna keep doing it, because I love you, Cielito—mi amor (my love).” 

“I love you, too, Javi.”

“My back is gonna be fucked,” he said between kisses.

“I really fucking love you, too.” 

“Fuck, I love you.” 

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @lola766 @nessamc @vanemando15 @fiscinthirst @melancholyy-hill @hnt-escape @sherala007 @jadesabre83 @rainbeaubrightchild @blub-senpai @pedrohoe04 @theherothesavior @captain-creampuff @javiersjeans @zetasaturno99 @amb11 @lovedbyth3sun @siidereeus @marvelousmermaid @mrszdjarin  @themarcusmoreno @woomen23 @ms-loverman-066 @star-wars-fan-2005 @kissing-stars @chloeinpink @lupinshouseelf @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @tumblertatiana @fictionismyreality @sheetsof-lennon @damnyoupedro @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @enjoyourlattebitch @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @theewokingdead @guess-my-next-obsession

#pedro pascal #Javier peña #javier peña/reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

[ali-r3n]

Baby Munson’s Loud Debut

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

The Munsons' Series Masterlist

Eddie and Y/N welcome their son into the world

~ December 26 1989 ~ The day that Johnny Munson entered the world. 

Y/N started to feel contractions early Christmas morning, but assumed it was just Braxton Hicks so she didn’t tell Eddie. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him today of all days. She rubbed her belly as they all sat around the Christmas tree in the corner of his uncle’s trailer.

 They all took turns opening their presents. 

Wayne smiled at the new mug he got. ‘World’s Best Grandfather’ in bold letters on the white ceramic. Eddie was thrilled with the most recent Dungeon and Dragons handbook. 

“This is perfect,” he said as he flipped through the book. “Thank you, Sweetheart.” 

Even the newest member of the Munson family got a gift. A black onesie with white letters that read, ‘I listen to metal with my dad.’ 

“For when the little guy finally comes,” Wayne stated. 

A strong contraction had her grimacing behind her mug of hot chocolate. 

“You alright, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked when he noticed something off about her. 

She nodded. “Yeah. Just cold.” 

He grabbed the blanket that was placed over the back of the couch and draped it over her pajama- clad legs. 

“Better?” He inquired as he tucked her in. 

She smiled and reached out to brush his bangs off of his forehead. “Yeah.”  

“Good.” He kissed the top of her head and her large bump. “Behaving for your mama in there, Little Man?” He placed his ear on her stomach and acted like his unborn son was talking to him. “Mmhmm. I see.” He gasped. “No way!” 

Y/N giggled at her dork of her boyfriend. Eddie looked up at her with his wide brown eyes. 

“I love you, Sweetheart.” 

“I love you too, Eddie.” 

He took her hand in his ringed one and ran his thumb over her knuckles. 

“I don’t know if I can say it enough, thank you. Thank you for giving me something I never thought I could have. A baby and a loving girlfriend… who will hopefully be my wife…” he trailed off and pulled something out of his back pocket. 

Y/N’s breath hitched. “Eddie…” 

He opened the velvet ring box and presented the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen. 

“Will you, Y/N Y/L/N, make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” 

She opened her mouth to answer and felt like she had peed her pants. Her eyes widened. 

“Oh Fuck!” she exclaimed. 

Eddie was taken aback. “Uh, Sweetheart. Is that a yes?” 

“E-Eddie…”

“Yeah?”

“My water just broke.” 

“Oh shit!” 

12 hours of labor later, Johnny Wayne Munson arrived. A full head of brown curls, screaming his little lungs out. Disgruntled from the cold air of the sterile hospital room. He only settled when he was placed on his mother’s chest. Soothed from the warmth of her skin. 

Y/N caressed her son’s head as tears ran down her face. 

“Hi Baby Boy,” she cooed. “We’ve waited for a long time for you to arrive.” 

She looked over at Eddie who was also crying with a smile on his face. 

“Yes,” she stated. 

He blinked. “What?”

“I never gave you an answer. Yes, Eddie. I will marry you.” 

He didn’t think it was possible for his smile to get any bigger, but his girl just proved him wrong. He was too choked up to respond so he just nodded his head. 

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the box. Eddie grabbed her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger before he kissed her knuckles. He stood up from the uncomfortable hospital chair and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. He cupped Johnny’s head and kissed his hair. 

“This is the best day of my life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Munson’s Taglist:

@eddiemunsons-girl @ches-86 @minaxcarter @shenevertricks1831 @persephone13 @spencestyles @jessevans @vivienatreides  @stormseyes @politephantommenace @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo

Eddie Munson Taglist:

@meaganjm @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @fangirling-4-ever @zzokks @mattymurdocksbitch @fillechatoyante @luvbug4728 @doll-in-the-walls @ches-86 @shenevertricks1831 @urlocalhippie2029 @celestair @ruinedbythehobbit @purple-storm

@meaganjm @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @fangirling-4-ever @zzokks @mattymurdocksbitch @fillechatoyante @luvbug4728 @doll-in-the-walls @ches-86 @shenevertricks1831 @urlocalhippie2029 @celestair @ruinedbythehobbit @purple-storm

@sarai-ibn-la-ahad @livslifeonline @strangerthingsstories5255 @becca-alexa @aactuaaltraash

Stranger Things Taglist:

@valeriiecameron @maruushkka @rainbows-dreams @april-foolish

Stranger Things (Billy excluded) Taglist;

@sleepyhead1456

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x pregnant!reader

[casper-cats-and-fanfics]

Unhealthy Addiction

Chuuya x Port Mafia Healer! Reader Smut, Slight Angst

TW: Unhealthy attachment, mentions of human experimentation, and death. Also Q, because I've made y'all siblings. Slight man handling, slight blood play

INFO ON Y/N: The Ability of "The More Freely You Bleed" - Anyone that were to ingest Y/N's blood in its purest form can have any injury healed. These injuries can be anywhere from being a paper cut to a missing limb or organ. However, a person cannot ingest too much of her blood or take too often as it can be similar to a drug, as too much ingestion can lead to tolerance and death.

The second part of her ability is similar to Tamayo from Demon Slayer, where if she slices open any part of her body, she can make her blood evaporate instantly and turn the evaporation into colorful flowers that surround the area and cause life threatening hallucinations to anyone that breathes it in.

=================================

"Ara Chuuya San~, if you come in any more, I'll start to think you're only coming in to see me!" The sarcastic tone of the Doctor annoyed him, like most of the things they did. However, he knew better than to complain. If he tried, the fumes from the person's open wound would get to him and he would see the things he wouldn't wish upon his worse enemies.

So he remained silent on the doctor's bed, looking around their office, taking notice of various books about human atnomy and needles filled with unknown substances. Chuuya doubt the Doctor knew what it was either, after all, they were suppose to figure it out on the next batch of prisoners Chuuya brought in. His eyes kept wandering as his hand remained holding a wet rag over his nose and mouth.

The silence and wandering eyes did not go unnoticed by the older Yumeno, who turned to look at the executive with a tilted head and an amused look.

"Remaining so silent? Normally by now you'd be saying some smart ass quip about how I need to do my job correctly and trying to explain to how to be more proper." That statement caused challenging light blue eyes to meet narrowed E/C one's as you put bandages on the open wound on their wrists.

"Have you finally lost the fire that made you so amusing in the first place? Have you finally admitted to being second best to your old friend that betrayed you and the mafia?" You took a couple steps towards the man still on their bed, who looked furious with everything they had just said.

"I am NOT or will I ever be second to that man," Chuuya's face was red with anger as you kept taking steps with an amused look painted all over your face. "Doctor, you seem to forget to know your place in this hierarchy and I will not be talked to like THIS-" His voice was cut off by a series of rough coughs as you seemingly remembered something, sitting besides him on the bed, holding that cup of blood that would instantly heal him.

"Poor baby executive~ a couple of broken ribs giving you trouble?" You bring your hand to his chest and start rubbing it slightly, Chuuya did not appreciate the sudden massage and suddenly grabbed onto your wrist and started gripping it, you wince and look down at Chuuya, height difference being obvious with a 4 inch difference.

"Hey Chuuya San, can you please let go of my wrist? It's sore from being cut."

"No." That simple one word answer cause a shift in the room as the tension suddenly changed. You blinked and stared at the shorter man who had a winning smirk.

You sigh, "Hun, I didn't want to do it this way, but someone's gotta fix your ribs and if I don't, Mori will most likely have my head." Chuuya looked confused for a moment.

"What way do you speak of-" He was cut off by you drinking your own blood and shoving your mouth onto his. You grabbed onto his hair and waited for him to open his mouth, when he didn't, since he seemed to be in shock. You bit down on his bottom lip, causing him to yelp and you to force the blood and your own tongue into his mouth. After a few moments, you broke the kiss and looked into his confused but slightly turned on blue eyes.

"Swallow it, and you can get out of here quickly Chuuya San. Just like you wanted to." You let go of his hair, and got up from the bed. Getting ready to walk over to your desk, you suddenly felt two arms around your waist and a harsh pull down. You were now in Chuuya's lap, with your ass sitting on a certain hard spot on his waist.

Being a little shit starter, you decide to start moving your hips in circles on his lap while looking back at him. "Do you need something Chuuya San?" You say "innocently" while the look in his eyes darkened ever so slightly.

"You do not get do to do that shit, then just fucking leave. You are not leaving me blue balled tonight you little slut." With that, he flipped them on their stomach. Ripping off their white lab coat and black leggings, leaving them in their underwear and light blue turtleneck.

You try to turn around to look at him, only to have Chuuya shove your head down back into the hard bed. "Damn, I can smell your arousal. If you were getting this wet from the beginning doctor, you should have told me" He says while staring at your bottom half while unzipping his pants to take them and his boxers off.

"My God Chuuya, you're a deviant aren't you? Are you into doctor play or something, is calling me what I am a turn on-" A moan from you cut of the sentence as Chuuya stuck in a finger and pulled it out, the duo made eye contact as he put in the finger in his mouth and started to lick off the juices.

"It tastes then the blood Doctor, maybe whenever I'm injured I should take some of these instead." Your face flushed red and the look evolved into a glare, but before you could say anything, you felt something enter you at a very fast pace.

"Give a warning first before anything please Chuuya San, my goodness-" A loud gasp was heard as Chuuya's gloved hands pushed down your head and lifted your hips up into the air as another thrust was brought up on you. He kept going harder and deeper into you, as you lost your train of thought. Successfully fucking you dumb as he wasn't relenting in anything.

"Im finally close, after how many rounds? How many times have you came when I've been generously fucking your cock hungry hole." Chuuya looked down at the drooling person who had a blissed out look in their eyes.

"Th... Three." They tightened again, "F-four now." Chuuya looked down again, as of saying "exactly" as he gave one final thrust and came into them. He remained there for a minute, before pulling out and watching the cum drip down, you were still shaking from your last orgasm as you pushed yourself up and slightly crawled onto Chuuya to kiss him. Surprisingly, he kissed back and you remained in that position before those damn dreaded words.

"Chuuya, I think... I think I'm in love with you."

That phrase is all it took, that one simple phrase is all it took for the entire mood to be ruined. Chuuya pushed you off of him, grabbed his pants, pulled them up, and walked out. No matter how much you asked him to stay, no. He left you naked and alone.

His cruel actions aren't what hurt you though, it was fact that he didn't say anything back.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #port mafia #bsd smut #chuuya smut

[i-luv-carl-grimes]

✮Everything I hate about you ✮

I rested my hands on my hip, my breath heavy sweat ran down my forehead

I was completely done unpacking I lied down on my bed and took a deep breath, I picked up my phone October 22 just five more days till I become an official part of one thing I've loved my whole life, I smiled to my and opened my phone

My smile quickly faded when I seen all then unanswered text to F/n

Y/n

'Hey!'

'Hru'

'How have you been?'

Send Oct 19

Days ago...

Had I done something? Maybe hurt her? Why is she ignoring me? I sat my phone on my chest, my breathing grew heavier and quicker, my vision begain to fad

"No, not again" I said and sat up

'Buy one get three free!'

A coupon for a book shop I picked up a not to long ago while getting groceries. I got up and looked at it be for making a decision. I grabbed it and the money I had $14, ill make it work. I was about to open my door when I seen what I was wearing, my pajamas

I sat my things down and walked over to my closest, I sat there looking for God knows, when I grabbed a brown and tan thinly stripped sweater a black skirt, black tights and black and white convers as well as a off white scaf and my black lether coat, then some light makeup, grabbed my stuff and headed down stairs to see Gina in the kitchen. I felt my body tense up, I needed to ask my mom if I could borrow the car

"Oh Hi Y/n" My mom said and Gina looked at me and Smiled I shyly walked over to her and pointed to my ear making my mom roll her eyes and bend down, "can I borrow the car, I wanna go to a book store" I asked. "Of course, just be home by 6 alright?" she asked and I nodded. "You've got yourself a really beautiful Daughter m/n (mom name)" Gina said and once again I froze. "Yes, but she's always been my silent princess" my mom said and I felt my face heat up from embarrassment. I slowly made my way out of the awkward situation and grabbed my mom's keys before heading out.

Time skip!!

Chandler's pov:

One of my friends birthdays was coming up so I decided to get them a gift, they said that they heard about this one book series they really wanted to get into, apparently it was an apocalypse type book, I had just gotten payed so might as well right?

I walked into the book store, it was a week day so not many people where there, it seemed that only my school took the day off, I was walking around trying to find the book when I stumbled upon a very fanilier girl holding one of the books I was here for. A faint and small smile painted her Rosie pick lips, freakels spotted her skin almost perfectly as if her skin was pur porcelain, she tucked her h/l (hair length) h/c (hair color) behind her ear revealing her soft shy e/c (eye color) eyes, it was almost as if everything about her was soft and gentil, from the way She spoke to the way she moved. She looked up from her book thats when I realized I had been 'looking' for to long, I quickly walked away and to any other bookshelf. One where she couldn't see me. How long was I looking at her for? Why was I looking so long? I dislike her, a lot so why?

Whatever

I waited for her to check out and leave when a women working walked up to me with a black leather jacket. "Excuse me sir, but do you know that girl who just came in? I seen you looking at her for a while and she left her jacket, do you think you could get it back to her," the women asked say no say no say no sa- "sure" I said fuck. "Great thanks" she said then handed me the jacket

Wonderful

I checked out went to my car and drove to y/n house, I really should have said no

Y/n's pov:

I got home and went straight to my room, one of my new books I had gotten was absurdly amazing and I just had to finish it, I changed into some comfy clothes (t-shirts but a wide neck line and black biker shorts) then grabbed the book and jumped on my bed as well as grabbed my phone and headphones to listen to music. After a while my cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much and my legs grew tired from kicking them. I never really liked romance all that much but god did I have a soft spot for books that take place in any kind of apocalypse. The more I read the more my heart rate rose the suspense of waiting for these characters to kiss finally came to an end, the smile on my face grew 10x as big as it was and my legs kicked harder while getting out high picked giggles and sequels

But that all was short living when I opened my eyes and seen a boy standing in my door frame with a disgusted look on his face. I felt my face heat up I'm embarrassment when I realized I was wearing shorts, not only did he see me being all weird but he also seen my stretch marks (if u don't have stretch marks ignore that part) "I brought your jacket back" he said and threw it at me, "i-im sorry" I said quietly. "Geez your embarrassing" he spat then walked out

God dammit

#carl grimes #carl the walking dead #the walking dead #twd carl #carl x reader #twd x reader #chandler riggs #chandler riggs x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Luscinia megarhynchos (All the Things She Said, Part 1.)

Description: After a rather unlucky coincidence, Lord Asriel is left alone on his supposed expedition to meet the king of Lapland. Thanks to Thorold's advances, he's lucky enough to get an assistant sent over from the University of Oxford.

Part Summary: Being a female scholar, your resources are very limited and there is no credit to be given to you. So when an amazing academic opportunity comes your way, you won't hesitate to accept.

Word Counter: 5.9 K

A/N: I have a few things to say. Be aware that I haven't read The Northern Lights trilogy by Phillip Pullman, so my understanding of Lyra's world might be either limited or wrong on occasions. I'm trying my best to go through all of the information sources I'm able to find on the internet. I've finished The Golden Compass (New Line Cinema, 2007) and His Dark Matters (HBO, 2019 - 2022; I presume) so while my understanding of the setting might not be perfect,it isn't the worst I'd say. The story is set sometime around Asriel's expedition to 'Lapland' so it shouldn't interfere with any other cannon moments of the story since I hate altering the cannon to my liking all that much. And since both the movie and show start by Asriel coming back from the first expedition, I don't think there's a lot of other backstory in the books and the past events are giving us through the characters? (For example: Iorek Byrnison explains to Lyra and the reader/watcher by proxy the situation of the armored bears but there's not an explicit flashback, only exposition for how things went down?) So I think that events of the past are keeping vague for a reason and the author lets us fill out the blanks using our own imagination except the times he specifically lays out events that we need to take a notice of.

Shortly, I should get away with this series and while won't defying cannon.

Tagging: @emmyspov

Series master list:  h e r e   | Series playlist:  h e r e

Clickity clack. Turning right into yet another empty hall with your arms full of papers filled to the brim with your handwriting, delicately tidied due to extensive usage of various colourful pens - all the essential terms were underlined heavily or highlighted with bright, easy-to-read-through colours. Clickity clack, you thought to yourself as you listened to your high heels repeatedly hitting the stone as you made your way through Jordan college in Oxford.

How did you find yourself in one of the most renowned men's colleges in Oxford was a proper question to ask; ever since finishing your studies at St. Sophia's, you've spent most of your academic time on Jordan's grounds, working with some of the most renowned scholars of said college. Truth be told, many experimental theologists were wandering around Jordan's and yet, even through coming to contact with this specific field every day, you weren't part of this group - you devoted yourself to studying animals, their life cycles, habits, and needs. Each facet of this work was bringing you serenity, the biggest reason being that daemons voluntarily took animal shapes. One aspect there was to love about animal studies was the requirement to study outside, carry on observations, and draw conclusions. Or, as you'd say with joy, it was a rather touchy-feely field to study, letting you wander through dark forests, and fields, to set out on ocean voyages… Forcing you to work inside only when you had to write some papers. That was what you loved about animal studies.

An undebatable benefit of carrying studies based on animal observations was that… There was anything that could be deemed as heretical. No matter how much would the Magisterium tried, there was nothing they'd find. What would they find in your last paper which was published under your colleague's name? 'The mating rituals of foxes in Sveden'? Which part of it could be even a bit heretical? Not being to publish your actual work under your name was the part that really sucked. Thanks to the Authority, Jonah (that was your colleague) was a good man, and each time people showed interest in said papers, he'd send them your way to discuss their thoughts with you.

Sighing, you pulled all of the papers to your body and listened to the continuous clicking again. It was rather odd to see you dressed in formal dress, wearing high heels with your hair tidied up and a bit of make-up on your face. Most of the scholars usually saw you wearing an old jacket, bright yellow wellies, along with a beanie in the same colour, combined with comfortable oversized jeans overall with a tactical bag lazily thrown over your shoulder. You liked it oversized since you could then dress appropriately to the weather under it - you could add leggings, warm sweatpants, sweaters, cosy sweatshirts, short-sleeved t-shirts… Whatever you pleased, really. Seeing you in formal clothes usually meant that you were about to present your newest research to Jonah and Master Carne.

This research was the conclusion of your one-year-long observation concerning the nesting rituals of nightingales. It was one of your favourites yet - this time, you settled near Devon, spending all of your time in the forest, silently watching birds while taking notes and drawing sketches. "It all might've been fun for you, Y/N." - A well-built coyote running alongside you said, turning its eyes to you as you both walked up to the second floor. Before Joy even got to the other part, you already knew what was coming; so you rolled your eyes. - "I had to lay without moving for hours. You know how much I hate that." - The coyote muttered, making you chuckle at her words.

"Don't be theatrical Joy, you had your fun as well. Let me remind you of how you ran down the stream playing with the fish you found in there." - At this, Joy growled unhappily - she knew you were right, but you had to admit that to a certain degree, she was right too. - "It's better than sitting in an office all day, come on now. Can you imagine being an indoor coyote?" "Not in a million years." - The daemon uttered, shaking its head. - "What would I do in an office? Fetching your papers? In my mouth?" "I think it would suit you." - Your whisper made the daemon bray silently, that was her form of laughter. Her amusement made you giggle too. "Screw you." - Joy muttered as you petted the top of her head, making her smile at you warmly.

You've spotted Master Carne from a whole hall away - Alicia was sitting on his shoulder proudly, overseeing the hall; the man himself was standing in front ornamented black door leading to the retiring room. Carne wasn't alone, though; he was talking to a very attractive brunette dressed in a blood-red pencil skirt and a jacket of the same colour while scholars flowed around them. As usual, he was already waiting for you... But you didn't expect her to be there. This woman was someone who you'd never wrapped your head around. She carried herself with grace and undeniable beauty, ambition, and intelligence shining inside her eyes, and yet, anything you'd look in her face, something was missing. And throughout the years of knowing her, you still weren't anywhere near deciphering what the missing component was. Maybe, just maybe, you missed any sign of actual human emotion - that was just the working theory you and Joy came up with, nonetheless. Her daemon was standing next to her, holding the hem of her skirt in its palm - it was a petite golden monkey. The gesture didn't feel loving; it felt right the opposite way if anything, repulsive to both parties. Joy exchanged a quick glance with you, letting you know she was thinking the exact same thing; you didn't like either of them. Something felt... Off.

This subtle feeling didn't change anything though; as soon as the Master noticed you, you sent a big bright smile his way and waved at him. Marisa, noticing as the man turned away from her, looked your way as well, sending you a small, gracious smile. Ah yes, nothing new, nothing changed, same old shit.

"Mrs Coulter, what a pleasure." - You uttered with a wide smile, offering her your pal which she shook, her grip appearing rather lukewarm. As soon as you shot your gaze to Carner, you knew that whatever the topic was, he was having a rather unpleasant conversation with Marisa and that he is very grateful for your early arrival. - "What lead you here all the way from London? I haven't seen you here in years... You're still looking as gorgeous as I remember you." "Oh, you're being too kind, Ms Y/L/N. You haven't aged a day." - The woman winked at you with a warm smirk, her blue eyes watching you intently. Dear, it all sounded so forced and fake. - "I was travelling through the area and I thought that visiting Jordan might be an enjoyable activity to fill my free afternoon. I was hoping that I'd have to chance to... Catch a glimpse of someone."

At that, you smiled knowingly as you nodded. Marisa didn't need to specify any further; the history between her and Jordan's 'Golden boy' (that's what you called the man) was a public secret. A very tragic and chilling public secret at that. Lord Asriel Belaqua, aka Golden boy as you and Joy dubbed him simply because he was very skilful with enormous amounts of money from the university funding simply by batting his eyes at the council, was... Quite someone, you had to admit. You've known him ever since you started co-publishing with Jonah and until that day, you didn't have a conclusive opinion when it came to him.

The man, however you wanted to approach him, was very good-looking; he was well-built and tall, often drawing attention with his fashionable outfit choices. Asriel was disposing of with a fairly pronounced nose, deep blue eyes sparking with everything he hadn't said out loud, and a pair of nicely shaped lips - his hair was neatly styled and beard trimmed each time you bumped into him. He was a dashing man, no denial about that. More so, he was aware of his physical appearance. And he was aware of said looks being a powerful tool - just like Marisa was when it came to her looks. And just like her, the man was very, almost frighteningly intelligent; more intelligent than anyone you'd ever met. You weren't shy of calling him a genius. He was often directive, and just like with Marisa, you've never really seen him displaying any deeper emotion. In his case, though, it appeared as if he preferred to be private - not fake. You've never spent much time around Asriel to conclude if you like him as a person. That could be explained easily; he was an experimental theologist while you worked in a different field entirely - but you caught a glimpse of him here and there.

However, the was an instance when you spent a significant amount of time around him way back when. It was shortly after you met Jonah who agreed to be your publishing partner; Asriel was looking for an assistant and you wanted to learn about preparing scientific papers to be published. And after acknowledging the significant amount of time you've spent inside his personal office, you still didn't know anything about Asriel. You were even helping with writing down his notes and knowledge, getting it ready for publishing; well, anything an assistant would do, essentially. At that period, you never bonded or got to know each other better. Sure, you talked, debated about his publication, and consulted it, but it always seemed... Polite and very artificial. Yet, there were moments when he felt... Almost human.

It was when you both worked late into the night, he usually sat at his desk and drank Tokay wine while you huddled up in a big plushy chair in front of the fireplace, reading through the papers and writing small memos all over them. In those moments, you'd catch yourself looking out of the window, watching the snow fall behind the closed windows. And as you turned your head around back to the papers in your lap, you'd catch a glimpse of the man looking at you; quickly diverting his attention back to the papers as soon as he saw you looking back at him. Usually, after catching him, you'd see a brief smile appearing on Asriel's lips; and sometimes it almost felt that there was something unsaid hanging in the air. The day you finally managed to put the publication together, named 'Of the time and space: A guide through basic experimental theology' was one of the last that you really spoke with Asriel. The man poured you a glass of wine to toast you, chatting with you about enjoyable nonsense. As you were leaving, Asriel turned his head in your direction, opening his mouth. With your palm on the doorknob, you stopped yourself to listen.

"I..." - Was all that he said, looking at you with the known glimpse in his eyes; there was more to be said and the man himself was clearly going through some kind of emotion since even Stelmaria stood up and looked at her human with confusion. For a moment, you both stood there, looking at each other - the words were on the tip of his tongue. And then... Asriel chuckled, ran his fingers through his hair, and pushed his palms into the pockets of his trousers in the end. - "I think you're ready to write your first publication, Ms Y/L/N." - The man said with a sincere smile, walking behind his desk. - "Hopefully, you've learned enough about preparing your own works for publishing. You're a smart woman." "I'm ready thanks to you, Lord Asriel. I can't possibly thank you enough for tutoring me." - You answered with a sweet smile and for the last time, the unknown glimpse had appeared in his eyes. And then... It was gone. Stelmaria laid down once more, closing her eyes. "I'll be eagerly awaiting your first publication. I'll see you around, Ms Y/L/N. And close the door on your way out."

That was who Asriel was to you. And the romance he and Marisa had... Well, as you said, it was a public secret. Everyone knew and everyone remembered and for a long time, Mrs Coulter had to live in the shadows, marked by her romance with Lord Asriel. It was a huge scandal back when it all broke out. You were still a student at St. Sophia's and Marisa was one of the front absolvents of your college. And then it came - the infamous 'did you hear about..?'. It was safe to say that the ordeal hadn’t ended well for either of them and on top of the enormous shame and oppression from her surroundings, it took her a long time to get her life back on track... And yet, through all of that, there she was, standing inside your workplace talking to the Master overseeing all of your publications, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who demolished her life and her reputation.

“Understood, Mrs Coulter. According to my understanding, though, the Magisterium is being well-informed about all of the observations and experiments that are being conducted on the Jordan college's grounds?” - You asked as you pulled your arm back to your body, hugging the body of papers ever so tightly. Marisa straightened herself up, a frown hovering over your face as she looked at you; she pushed her chin higher, bringing her eyebrows closer. She was trying to make sense of what you just said. - “My point is that Magisterium surely has an overview of all of our studies and knows that none of them can be found or flagged as heretical. Based on that point alone, you surely must’ve known that he hadn’t set foot on Jordan’s grounds in years.”

Marisa still watched you with a frown on her face, confusion still overtaking her. The woman chuckled unknowingly, shrugging her shoulders in reaction to your question. - “Who hadn’t set foot in Jordan in years? What are you talking about, Ms Y/L/N?” - Her question was said in a gentle tone, accompanied by a sweet, wide smile; but due to the light in her eyes, you knew that she was getting who was the person you were talking about. And as you glimpsed over to Carne, he understood your point perfectly.

“I assumed you wanted to see Lord As…” “Let's say that in this case, you certainly assumed wrong. No, Y/N you don’t understand how wrong you are. Asriel Belacqua is certainly not the person I’m talking about, Ms Y/L/N. Don’t be silly now. I do not wish to see nor talk to that man. It was someone else I was hoping to see.” - Marisa gritted through her teeth, staring right into your soul as if you said something absolutely lunatic, almost condemning. She didn’t say everything out loud, but the lingering message was clear ‘keep your mouth shut and start thinking about what you’re saying, stupid little girl'.

“Understood Mrs Coulter, please, excuse the disrespectful attitude. If you’d excuse us now, Master and I have a business we need to attend to.” “Actually…” - Marisa exclaimed with some sort of excitement appearing in her eyes. “What is that you’re working on, Ms Y/L/N? All the scholars I’ve spoken with today told me that Doctor Jonah is about to present a very interesting document to the council.” - The woman asked with seeming innocence but you’ve perfectly understood what she was trying to convey. She was jabbing away at the fact that you weren’t allowed to publish your own scientific works - it didn’t make much sense since she couldn’t publish her works either. It jabbed the wrong spot anyway, you had to say. With newfound confidence, you chuckled and pulled the body of paper away from your thorax, revealing the title of your work.

Marisa’s eyes read the title multiple times as if she couldn’t grasp it - while in your opinion, it was rather understandable. - “‘The nesting habits of Luscinia megarhynchos and other Aves Passerine in Brytain?’” - Marisa asked with confusion, looking right back at Master Carne. - "This woman is studying birds, animals and... Master, therefore there is no reason to..." "I am simply hearing out a request made by one of my most successful researchers, Mrs Coulter. There is nothing more to it." - Carne cut her off before she could've gotten to the point. Joy glanced at you quickly, sharing your curiosity; what was this about? "Master Carne, her field is fundamentally different from his, therefore I think I'm better suited and don't find it appropriate nor smart to..."

"That's enough, Mrs Coulter." - The man retorted, his eyes widening. This gesture made Marisa finally accept that their conversation is truly over. - "The university is truly grateful for your concern, but this is a matter of no interest to you; the matter is not tied to any sort of research, it revolves mainly around administration and editing. On top of that, I've heard you're holding a private party in London this weekend; therefore I assume you have duties you have to attend to, Mrs Coulter." "Well, well. That's correct Master Carne, as usual, you're right. I simply hoped I might be of use." - Saying that, Marisa offered you her palm once more. The monkey sitting at her feet finally let go of her pencil skirt and stood up straight, furrowing right at you. Whatever Marisa was thinking about, it wasn't too nice.

"It was very refreshing to meet you. We'll have to catch up properly, Y/N. As soon as you're back, send me a letter and we'll arrange an intimate tea party." - With confusion, you shot a gaze toward Carne and shook her palm. - "Right back at you, Marisa. It'll be an honour, I haven't been to London in years. Has it changed much?" "I don't think so. But if you'd feel like the cultural shock might be a bit much for you... Let me know and I'll travel here, to Oxford." - She said with an angelic grin, jabbing at yet another of the soft spots - at least what they assumed to be one. To be frank, it was just plain rude of her. Sure, you loved to spend most of your time outside of civilization and its rules, but you were still very much socialized and cultured. To be frank, you loved London. With that, Marisa said goodbye to Carne, turned on her heels, and strutted towards the staircase, disappearing between the flood of long black robes.

"Dear God in heaven." - You muttered as soon as Carne closed the door of the retiring room behind you. Not waiting for much more, you chose to pour a glass of whiskey to both you and Carne - Alicia, accompanied by Joy, resorted to the corner of the room to catch some rest. - "Anytime I see Coulter wandering these halls, I just feel so... Anxious, hoping she'd leave as fast as she appeared. That woman, she's never good news." "That might be true Y/N, but she's still a very respected explorer and researcher, let's not forget that. Even though I have to agree about her tendency to be bad news." - The Master chuckled, making you smile back at him; you two liked to joke around when the no-one could hear you. Carne was a good man, even hearing you out regarding your works - he could've easily let Jonah submit all of the discoveries, yet there you were, taken as a woman of science.

"She called me uncultured, Master, and in addition to that, according to her animal research is not enough of a respectable research field. Let me jab back at her, even though she can not hear me anymore. No harm in that. By the way, I'm pretty positive she was talking about Golden boy back there. What do you think?" "Golden boy?" - Carne looked at you from sipping his whiskey, letting you set all of the photograms into the projector. His expression was lit up by a disbelieving smile as he watched you casually waltz around the room in your high heels. - "Last time I heard this nickname, I asked you not to use it in my presence, Y/N. You've been a welcomed addition to our research team for long enough to show respect for your co-researchers... Let alone the man who tutored you regarding editing a scientific paper. Lord Asriel wouldn't be amused by the nickname you've given him."

"How can you know he wouldn't be amused by the nickname? You'd have to share it with him... Which I doubt you'd do, Master. Stop dodging the question now." - Finishing up the projector preparation, you straightened up and looked right into his face, holding the photo album between your fingers. "Mrs Coulter wasn't looking here for Lord Asriel because she is well aware of his expedition leading him into the Lapland wilderness, Y/N. But to be frank, he was the main reason behind her sudden visit. Let's forget about Mrs Coulter now while you present me your newest discoveries, shall we?" - For a second, you remained watching him, thinking about what he had just said. Lord Asriel was the main reason for her to come here all the way from London?

Back when you talked to her, you were being serious. Asriel hadn't been in Oxford for ages - the last time he came was two years ago, let alone that he left right the next weekend. Anyone had spoken of him recently and his last research still wasn't anywhere near its end. So, the question remaining was... Why was Asriel concerning her and what did you have in common with the whole ordeal? As soon as you started to show Carne all of the data and as soon as you started to describe your findings, Lord Asriel and Marisa had disappeared out of your mind - suddenly, there was not much more than nightingales inside your head. Surely, it could be seen that Carne's attention was not at its all-time high, but he sat through it and asked questions to further clarify the subject, reading the rest of your research papers. When you ended the presentation, you let the last photogram be projected onto the wall while you sat down, finishing your glass of whiskey.

Just like you expected, the presentation took thirty minutes - both Joy and Alicia were taking a nap in the corner of the room, Carne looked sleepy at best and you were glad that the formalities were finally over. All you had to do now was to give the manuscript to Jonah, inform him about your findings, and then... It was done. "I know people don't find this topic very... Interesting or life-changing." - You admitted as your eyes looked at the small brown bird projection. Letting out a long breath, you sipped on the alcohol before licking your lips, letting the aftertaste burn on the body part for a bit. - "But I think it's important, it's quite life-changing to me. To understand nature and ecosystems, to understand animals as well as their behavioural pattern to ensure that humanity isn't interfering with the wild and natural habitats too much. Because if we do... May God save us all. Can you imagine not waking up to birds singing? Or bees buzzing?"

"The college understands your reasoning, Y/N, that's why I personally vouch for most of your expeditions and research. I see why you care so much and I think it's very important to have people that care. And therefore, I have a research proposition for you... Help request might suit our situation better." - The Master answered calmly, letting you know that to him, your small obsession with nature isn't just some weird, off-beat childish whim. To Marisa, your field might've not been a valid scientific field, but to Carne it was. And that was what you needed to hear. The woman made you pretty nervous. At the back of your head, you always remembered that no matter what she tells you, or the Master, no one's opinion will change. Yet for some reason, her words cut like a knife even though you've only been an academic colleague of hers. Shaking Coulter out of your head, you looked back at Carne. - "Well, let's hear it. What is it you want me to look at? To study the cat population around Oxford since I've heard Alicia is rather fond of them?"

"No, she just really likes chasing them around the walls, that's all. Everyone has their quirks, am I right?" - Carne answered your joke, chuckling under his breath. - "What would you think if I'd offer you a fully funded, four months-lasting research of fauna on Svalbard?" "Hold on... Hold on. Research on Svalbard, funded by the college? Just to be clear Master, do you understand that we are talking about researching narwhals, arctic foxes, penguins, walruses, and... Even Panserbjørne by proxy?" - Slowly realizing what Carne had just said, you picked yourself up on your legs and walked around the room for a bit, covering your opened mouth with your palm. - "If anyone would ask for this kind of funding, they'd be turned down immediately - all the proprieties, clothes, food, a place to stay in... Let alone making a pact with the king regarding even speaking to the researcher. They are very secretive, bears I mean. Master, this is an offer that I can not turn down."

"That's also why I presented this offer first. The rest of the requests won't be as enjoyable. Let's start simply - have you heard of Thorold?" "I've met him once or twice, never spoke with him for too long though. He's an elderly man, very wise and very polite. He's also the servant of Lord Asriel, am I right?" - You asked back, finishing your glass while still standing in front of Carne. What had Thorold in common with this ordeal? That was at least five people that had been dragged into it by now. "Correct. Long story short, the poor man slipped on a one rather nasty stormy night and broke his leg, his left arm, and his right wrist, and therefore, he cannot stay in Svalbard to accompany Lord Asriel during his research. Thankfully, his unfortunate injuries came with the best possible timing - the research is concluded and the only request Lord Asriel has is help with editing and preparing the study to be presented. Which is something you are very good at, Y/N."

Of course, it came with a price, this expedition was too dreamy to be true on its own. Anyone would willingly pay for a four-month-long Svalbard expedition with a permit leading your right to the Panserbjørne king, notably since many scholars didn't quite identify with your desire to explore the animal kingdom. The council would cancel your request for such an expedition as soon as they'd see its heading written on an official document. On the other hand, working with Asriel didn't seem like such an ordeal upon comparing it with everything you'd get. Without a second thought, you'd agree to take care of all of the dirty jobs just so you could go to Svalbard.

"So that was why Marisa didn't quite agree with this request. Entire four months in the presence of local legend himself, huh?" - You asked with quiet laughter, pouring yourself and Master one more glass of the spirit. This whiskey, you had to admit, was very good. "You see, finding someone who'd be willing to work for Lord Asriel was... Hard." "That's why you bribe people with the most dreamy expeditions out there, you see, Master?" "You're the first one I'm asking to help Thorold out, but trust me, I'm sure there wouldn't be a single person who'd accept the job, no matter how much money would college offer them." - Carne said seriously, looking you right in the eyes. - "What you need to understand is the fact that Lord Asriel can be very difficult to collaborate with, Y/N. Especially when he's crazed with all of these ideas that might bring our college down to its knees."

"Wait, why are talking about Svalbard in the first place, Dr Carne? How could Thorold travel here from Svalbard - if Lord Asriel is supposedly conducting experiments in Lapland? We all know he's had an audience with the king. Why being so secretive about everything, then? Why did all of you say he's in Lapland? Is he studying something... Forbidden by the Magisterium?" - You asked back, intrigued by the slight sense of danger dripping out of the idea. "Yes, that's what most scholars think, at the present. What I thought as well until Thorold asked me in a private conversation, clearly in need of help. Ms Y/L/N..." - Carne sighed and looked away from you, using your last name; he only did that when the situation got dense. - "The research which Lord Asriel's conducting is risky at least, heretical at best. I need your help because you're one of the very few people in this college that I can put my full trust in. This is also the reason why I couldn't agree to Mrs Coulter's request to assist Lord Asriel. She thinks he's in Lapland too."

"And if she'd got to know..." - You sighed, realizing that this would mean a full-on raid by the Magisterium. The academic world was run by one very simple law - when there was an experiment conducted by the scholars of any college, it was always protected by the concept of Scholastic sanctuary. Any scholar or researcher had the right to be protected from the Magisterium, even when the research got a bit... Too on edge for Magisterium's liking. Hearing that Scholastic sanctuary, the most powerful research law in existence, might've been too short for whatever Asriel was researching in Svalbard was rather concerning.

For a moment, your breath shortened and you could feel Joy waking up in the room, trying to process the information alongside you. The research must've been a straightaway ticket to damnation, something Asriel would end on the stakes for, no problem. And the only explanation for such secretive procedures could be... "The fool is trying to study Dust, isn't he?" - You asked, looking right at Carne; by the look in his eyes, you knew that your guess is correct. Truth be told, you didn't know much about Dust, but you've heard the term a few times. Nobody wanted to talk about it and most scholars refused to acknowledge its existence out of pure fear, but even amongst them, there were a few brave ones who committed to researching it. Why were most people avoiding deeper conversations about Dust? That was simple too - Magisterium had deemed it as the Original Sin and therefore, there was no conversation to be held.

"If they get to know, they will raid the college without acknowledging Scholastic sanctuary. Doesn't Lord Asriel know this?" "Of course he has. Why do you think he's in Lapland?" - Carne snickered, letting you roll your eyes. - "And it's also why you'd be going to Lapland. We'd re-label your research after you'd get back, of course, but for the time being..." "You trust me a lot, am I right? Telling me about all of this... Master..." "I trust you because I know you're worthy of such trust, Y/N. "Be honest." - You said, looking him right in the eyes. - "Do you have any other option than me, Doctor?"

The expedition to Svalbard sounded too dreamy to be true. And it was because it was too dreamy to be true - for such an amount of money, you'd be risking your life. Dear God, if the Magisterium would discover your name on the documents right next to Asriel's, you'd be as good as dead. You'd probably disappear quick, without anyone noticing. And those who'd notice would not say a word. "I do not, Y/N, you're the only one I am not afraid to ask for help. And on top of that, Thorold asked for your presence specifically due to your previous experience in collaborating with Lord Asriel." "Fine then, Dr Carne, fine. I'll do it, but promise me you'd keep it utmost secret. No one ever will get to know I've helped Asriel other than responsible scholars, okay? I've never studied experimental theology simply because of my fear of the Magisterium. I'd be glad if it would remain a secret after I get back." "Thank you, Y/N, thank you..."

At that moment, a loud bang on the window made you jump and scream upon getting freaked out. Given the topic you've just discussed with Carne, you almost got a heart attack; if anyone would hear you two talking, you'd both be dragged to London by evening and killed by the morning. Yet as you looked up, you saw a pair of dark, almost black eyes watching you and the projected photogram of a bird behind you, the girl holding the windowsill in her palms as she peeped into the retirement room. With a smile, you risen your eyebrows and walked over to the room, opening it to get a good look at the small girl. Dear, hasn't she grown ever since you left for Devon? Her hair was now much longer it seemed, and her facial features were much sharper and more profound - she was now almost twelve years old if you remembered correctly. And, just as you expected, there was also a dark-haired, blue-eyed boy kneeling right next to her. Lyra and Roger. What a surprise.

"Why am I not surprised to see you two mischievous individuals peeping into the room, huh?" - At that, both kids laughed and hugged your waist, holding you close. You've grown to like this odd pair; both of them were orphaned at a very early age and they always used to run through Oxford's halls and bring life to that sad place, simply by laughing and cheering upon the simplest things imaginable. Their free spirits were what made your mood much better at times. "Lyra? Roger? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in your classes? Both of you?" - Master Carne asked, now being his usual self; the leader of Jordan at his best.

"I was hoping to see my uncle, Dr Carne. Scholars were saying that one of the researchers is finally back, so we went to see for ourselves." "That does not excuse you, Lyra. Get in, both of you, I'll make personally sure that you'll be at your school desks immediately. Me and Ms Y/L/N are done here anyway." - Carne said, furrowing at both of the kids. - "But if you'll be good until evening and after Roger finishes his tasks, you can ask Ms Y/L/N to show you some of the pictograms she took on her latest research. For some reason, I think you'd both really like them."

They would, you thought to yourself as you watched the children leaving with a saddened smile lingering upon your face as you started thinking about the Svalbard expedition once more, they definitely would. Because these kids are free as the birds. And if Asriel manages to make a breakthrough, we might all be free one day.

#lord asriel #asriel belaqua #asriel belaqua x fem!reader #lord asriel x fem!reader #his dark materials imagine #hdm imagine #his dark materials hbo #his dark materials (2019 2022)

[mar0on]

✮ LET IT ONCE BE ME ✮ ​​

​🇲​​🇦​​🇽​-​🇪​​🇷​​🇳​​🇪​​🇸​​🇹​

✦ synopsis: in which max-ernest is finally picked first for once

⟡ series: fics inspired by song lyrics

✦ lyric prompt: (this was inspired by two songs!) "no wanted to play with me as a little kid, so i've been scheming like a criminal ever since, to make them love me and make it seem effortless" - mastermind, taylor swift "i got cursed like eve got bitten"; "just someone who wants my company, let it once be me" - the prophecy, taylor swift

⟡ content warnings: none just angst and comfort!

✦ word count: 559

✮⋆ a/n: i saw someone shipping cass and m-e and it felt like a crime (it is) so i'm here to remind y'all they're platonic besties!! basically sibings!! also tortured poets department core (the title) everyone go listen to it it's SO GOOD ⋆✮

Max-Ernest was always picked last for dodgeball (is it really picked if you're the last one standing and there are no other options?), always without a lab partner, always doing group projects alone. Ever since he was a kid, he felt out of place. He wasn't like any of the other kids, or like any of the adults, either. He wasn't like anyone he'd ever met. He wasn't much like anyone at all, really, and he knew it. It seemed like everyone else knew something he didn't, and that's why they just clicked with each other in ways he couldn't. Like they had a 6th sense he didn't. Or like they had all conspired a prank against him and he'd never be let in on the joke. He couldn't comprehend other people's emotions. He couldn't figure out what made them cry. But he could figure out what made them laugh: comedy, so he resolved to make people like him by making them laugh.

It didn't work. Not really, anyway. They'd laugh at him, not with him. It took him a while to understand the difference.

Then he learned that people like magic, too, so he figured that maybe that's what would make people like him. The response was worse than the last time, and still he would look around at the blur of faces in his English classroom as desks and chairs were rearranged into work groups that he was not a part of and felt oddly alone.

He spent most of his life alone, locked in his rooms (whether at his mother's or father's half-house) practicing magic tricks or reading up on his various joke books or studying his new random hyperfixation, like his just-diagnosed dragon fruit allergy (even thought he'd never even once come in contact with one) or Egyptian hieroglyphs, and still he never felt quite as alone as he did standing in front of his class, giving an oral report and looking out at a classroom of distracted classmates because no one really cared enough about him to pay attention.

Not alone, he realized one day. Lonely. He was oddly lonely.

He was standing in gym class. It felt cold now, as he looked anxiously at Cass and Amber, the appointed team captains, awaiting the dreadful feeling of being left for last at the mercy of whoever was unlucky enough to be sacked off with him.

There was a bit of arguing between Cass and Amber, so they were ordered to play rock-paper-scissors as a means to fairly choose who gets first pick. Cass won.

She stood there with an old, beat-up dodgeball in her hands, spinning it mindlessly. She barely looked around at her classmates long enough to properly weigh her options before she said, "Max-Ernest."

It almost made him jump. He was so unused to actually being chosen that for a second he thought there was somehow a second Max-Ernest in their class.

"Me?" he choked out.

Cass rolled her eyes and bopped her head to the side, whipping her braids back over her shoulders. "Yes, you, Max-Ernest. Hurry up and get over here!"

"Oh . . ."

His cheeks went hot and red as he awkwardly walked over to Cass' team, but it felt nice that the gym wasn't so airlessly cold anymore.

For the first time in his life, he was someone's first pick.

#the secret series #cass the secret series #max-ernest the secret series #yo-yoji the secret series

[chromonool]

i love these two with my whole big gay heart <3

[image description under the cut!]

[ID: doodles of gideon and harrowhark from the locked tomb series. In this rendition, Gideon is wearing a dark blue shirt and long conical plants that obscure her feet, while Harrow is wearing a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, skinny black pants and a cloak with a white skull clasp holding the fabric together at her neck. Both are wearing their respective styles of skull makeup. described from left to right, top to bottom, they are:

harrow doodling in her notebook with a focused expression;

harrow making bone constructs with an urgent and worried expression and sweating blood;

gideon sleeping while sitting down with a worried expression;

gideon being really startled, two exclamation marks jutting out of her head;

gideon running while brandishing her rapier at something off-screen and smiling defiantly;

harrow walking away, back turned to the viewer but still looking back, head obscured in the shadows of her hood. menacing wavy lines radiate from her head;

harrow standing still and facing the viewer, shaking nervously;

gideon wearing a cloak similar to Harrow's, her hood over her head and obscuring her face, with menacing wavy lines radiating from her head;

gideon on her haunches, head resting on her hand and longingly looking into the distance. a though bubble appears next to her, within which she is posed with her longsword resting over her shoulder and a confident hand on her hip, wearing the cohort uniform.

End ID.]

#the reason why harrow doesn't have her rib corset is because i thought that was a book 2 addition 💀 woopsies #also #sorry for putting the ID under the read more #i kinda had to since it was so long #n e way this book series took over my life #for like a few days #i haven't been reading for a while but i decided i wanted to read more often this year and this is the series i decided to start with #and i mean. what a start lol #also these designs are based off how i imagined them as i was reading--which is to say very wrongly XD #i suck at visualising descriptions correctly while reading books and always have :P ah well i like these designs anyway :) #nyoomarts #nyoomfanarts #drawing #digital art #artists on tumblr #tlt #the locked tomb #gtn #gideon the ninth #heehee i'm a lil nervous to post this bc i love this book series very much but ik it'll be fine. probably.

[kirishoshego]

Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

#bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha bakugou smut #bnha bakugo smut #mha bakugo smut #mha bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo x y/n smut #bakugo x you smut #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x y/n smut #bakugou x you smut #bakugou x reader smut #bnha bakugo x reader smut #bnha bakugo x you smut #bnha bakugo x y/n smut #bnha bakugou x you smut #bnha bakugou x reader smut #bnha bakugou x y/n smut #mha bakugo x y/n smut #mha bakugo x reader smut #mha bakugo x you smut #mha bakugou x y/n smut #mha bakugou x reader smut #mha bakugou x you smut #mha bakugo katsuki x you smut #mha bakugo katsuki x y/n smut

[jerzwriter]

16. “How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me.”

For E and C please?

Thank you for the ask dear! :) I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Sweet Love

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Casey MacTavish) Rating: Teen Words: 609 Summary: Ethan finds Casey's taste in breakfasts revolting. Ficlet for the Love Confession Prompt "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me." A/N: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge Day 31, Smile.

From the prompt list: Love Confessions.

It was a rainy Saturday morning which afforded them the rare luxury of sleeping in. Casey, of course, slept in just a little later. When she walked out to the kitchen, her bare-chested fiancé was sitting at the table reading the news wearing nothing but the bottom half of his light blue pajamas. She smiled, looking down at her own torso, covered by the top half of the pair. A warmth unlike any she had ever known spread throughout her. How had this become her life?

The newspaper fell to the table as her arms encircled him from behind, his head falling back ask she peppered his neck with a million little kisses. He took a shuddering breath as he gave in to the moment, reveling in the fact that she was here… she was his… this was no longer a dream.

“Good morning, my gorgeous fiance,” she whispered.

“Good morning, my beautiful fiancée, “ he replied. He pointed to the empty dish on the table. “I ate breakfast without you. I wanted to let you sleep. But I’m happy to make something for you now?”

“No,” she said with one final kiss on his cheek. “I’ll make my own.”

Ethan raised a brow, “Really? You’re going to cook yourself when there is another option available? Do I need to take your temperature?”

Casey smirked at him from behind the refrigerator door. “Very funny, Dr. Ramsey. Just so you’re aware, I managed to feed myself breakfast before you entered my life, shocking though it may be.”

She sat across from him, placing a white ceramic bowl on the table. Ethan managed to pull his eyes off his pajama top, clinging to her chest for just a moment, regretting it immediately. 

“What are you doing?”

Casey was perplexed by the confusion in his voice. 

“Pouring cereal?”

He watched in horror as she continued to fill her bowl with the colorful little treats.

“What kind of cereal? And when did you bring that into my home?”

“Ehem, our home. And they’re Fruity Pebbles.”

“Fruity Pebbles?”

“Yes. Fruity Pebbles,” she said, defiantly shoving a spoon in her mouth. “Wansome?” she mumbled with her mouth half full. 

“No. Thank you,” he glared, “I’m good. I’m also going to make sure to make breakfast for you going forward.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not four, and even a four-year-old shouldn’t be eating that… slop!”

Casey looked up at him with a playful glint in her eye, wondering if she could throw him over the edge.

“This isn’t so bad,” she said, wiping her lip. “I was a little disappointed, though. You don’t have chocolate milk, and I prefer it with that.”

His paper fell again, then he removed his glasses. 

“Cho..chocolate milk?!”

“Yes, chocolate milk.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Of course I am,” she lied.

Ethan shook his head, placing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and mumbling under his breath as Casey giggled.

“How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me.” 

“Made you?” She squealed, grabbing for his hand across the table. “I was joking about the chocolate milk, and I didn’t make you do anything. You found me irresistible from the start.”

“Mmmm,” he chuckled, “You may be totally wrong when it comes to your selection of breakfast cereals, but other than that, you’re right.”

“I know,” she teased.

“You’re also modest.”

“Oh, Dr. Ramsey, you of all people should be happy I’m not modest,” she grinned.

Ethan took her other hand in his and looked lovingly into her eyes.

“You’re right, Rookie. And I love you, just the way you are. Juvenile eating habits and all.”   @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#opeh heart fanfics #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x casey #choices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #choices monthly challenge #love confessions

[streetlight11]

Till I Met You Again

Summary: Everyone is born with a life already planned out for them. Including their soulmates. Except, every person walking this earth has been given a specific soulmate marking that was similar to a tattoo to match their soulmate’s. The ink is invisible when one is born. To activate the soulmate marking, one has to be at least in a 20 feet radius to their designated soulmate. But of course, they wouldn’t know it until they start to notice the ink slowly appearing on their skin.

Theme: soulmate au, university au, enemies to lovers

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning: mild cursing

WC: 10k

Pairing: Soulmate!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I kinda got too carried away in writing this one the other day, hence the word count for this is... woah. Hehe. But anyways, here's a soulmate au for you Min Yoongi lovers <3

Every person who was born into this earth has their life journey already written out for them in which it unfortunately remains a secret from them. And these living souls have been entitled to a soulmate that would potentially cross their path in the near future. Everyone is made for someone and the tattoo on their skin otherwise known as a ‘soulmate marking’ determines it for them.

The soulmate marking is nothing far from a tattoo as it imprints on your skin for eternity.

However, these markings will already be on you the minute you were born. Except, the ink will be invisible to the human eye.

But it’s definitely there. The only way to activate the marking is when one happens to be of 20 foot radius with their designated soulmate. This will cause the ink to start slowly appearing on one’s skin. Even so, these markings will start only when one has reached the age of 14. Only then will the ink start to be visible to one’s eye.

Unfortunately, until now when you’re already past 20 years of age, not a single tinge of ink was displayed on your skin. You’ve checked everywhere on your body. From your fingertips to your toes.

Nothing.

You weren’t really one who purely believed in this whole soulmate thing simply because you felt that there’s no such thing as a fixed soulmate. You should be free to choose who you want as your partner purely through interactions and chemistry you shared with the other, not by some marking on your skin. Your parents had a matching mark on their right wrists which was a simple rose in a glass jar.

No doubt you admired their love story and how they met, but you couldn’t see it for yourself. You really don’t want to fully depend on this supposed marking. Even when you went off to college, you’ve made it a point to try and go on dates no matter what their soulmate markings would be.

But it all turned out with the same ending. Either the guy dumps you for not having the same mark or they ghost you after the first date, saying you’re too good for them. All these never led to a heartbreak on your end because you were never in love to begin with.

You were simply trying your luck, trying to see if you’d find a single soul who was just as sceptical as you on this whole soulmate thing.

And so far, you’ve met none.

It was the start of university life for you as you’ve managed to enrol yourself for a Computer Science major in Hangang University. You took the same course during college, having interest in web design and computer technologies. You could only hope that the study load this time would give you a mental break every once in a while despite knowing the content is definitely heavier than college content.

But you still told yourself to persevere and never leave your knowledge hanging while you’re still young. With this mentality, you brought yourself to campus today for day one of university classes.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door to the specific lecture room for the first lesson.

Immediately, you were greeted by a room that had the majority of the students’ gender being males. But it wasn’t a surprise to you because CS majors tend to lean more towards males instead of females. This doesn’t bother you since you were here solely to study and perhaps make friends along the way.

You found an empty seat in the top last few rows. With careful steps, you climbed the stairs to make your way to the spot you had your eyes locked on. After you’ve settled down, you noted how the room was fairly quiet.

Probably because it was the first day of classes and nobody really knows each other yet. That was all pushed to the back of your mind when you heard chatting coming from the front door and you saw 2 friends walk in. It was pretty obvious they knew each other considering how they were laughing and talking freely to one another.

As you kept your curious gaze on them discreetly, you could only realise how good looking they were.

The taller one sported beautiful dark brown locks that were long enough to cover his eyes, his smile so charming you were sure anyone who crossed his path would fall for his smile in less than a second. And then there was the other one who sported a more edgy look with his shorter dark purple, undercut hair that was parted near the centre to show his forehead, a right eyebrow piercing to compliment his face.

You quickly diverted your gaze to your laptop screen, not wanting them to think you’re a creep. You were busy searching for the e-books for this lesson in your online school portal when you heard a gentle voice calling to you from your right.

“Hey, are these seats taken?”

You looked up to see the one with the eyebrow piercing staring at you with the softest smile on his face.

In response to his question, you simply mimicked his facial expression and shook your head at him. He thanked you quietly before the 2 of them settled down beside you down the row. They resumed their conversation for the next 3 minutes before the lecturer walked in to start the class.

Two hours later, you don’t even know how you managed to absorb the things your lecturer said but you did. You were typing out the notes he shared on the projector screen when you heard his voice through the speakers.

“I will let you go for your lunch break. Be back by 1pm, here. You can leave your bags behind since I will be locking the room once everyone leaves.”

With that, your classmates replied with a series of yes before they got up one by one ready to head for lunch. You were just typing out the last of your notes when the boy beside you spoke up. At first you thought he was talking to his friend. You completely missed the way he was turned to you.

Until he gently taps onto your forearm to tell you that his question was directed to you. With a turn of your head, you locked eyes with him for the second time that day. “H-Huh?” You stuttered, earning a stifled chuckle from him.

“I was saying, do you wanna join me and my friends for lunch? We’re already sharing classes, might as well get to know each other to prepare for future projects or assignments.” He kindly repeated himself for you, making you whisper a soft ‘oh’ under your breath.

It wasn’t like you to approach someone first when it comes to striking a conversation with a complete stranger. So when he did it for you, it surprised you that he even thought of letting you tag along with them to lunch. For this alone, you decided to accept his offer knowing he does have a point for that last statement.

With that being said, the three of you left the lecture room after bringing your wallets with you. You quietly followed beside the brown haired one as they immediately opened a topic for their conversation.

You were just checking your phone for the texts sent from your mom in your family group chat when a voice spoke up, addressing you directly.

“What’s your name?” You glance up to catch the one who asked the question was the brown haired one, as the purple haired one was already looking at you but it wasn’t intimidating in any way. So you found it easy to reply to them.

“Y/N.” You said as they all nodded only for the boy beside you to speak up. “Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Taehyung. This is Jungkook.”

And so you know.

After almost 10 minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the cafeteria located on the other side of campus from where you originally were. The cafeteria was filled with hungry students and occupied tables. This wasn’t something new but at times like these, you’d rather bring your own food and sit somewhere that’s less crowded and bustling.

Just when you were about to excuse yourself and get a take out instead, Taehyung’s voice sounded from beside you, “Hyung said he found a table for us. They’re at the side near the drink stall.” He addressed it to the Jungkook in particular.

Hyung? Found a table? Did their other friends go to this same campus too?

You thought to yourself as Taehyung soon led the three of you around the cafeteria with you following behind them like a lost puppy.

You were busy looking at the available food stalls around when you were stopped by the voices that called out to the 2 boys’ names. Curious eyes wandered over their figures to see just who their other friends were and you were met with a table filled with relatively handsome guys.

There were 3 guys seated at that table, happily welcoming Taehyung and Jungkook. Just when you thought they had forgotten you, Jungkook turns around to show you to his friends.

“If you guys don’t mind, we made a new friend this morning and we invited her to join us for lunch. Her name is Y/N.” Jungkook announced as the three boys smiled at you warmly.

“Hey Y/N. I’m Namjoon, this is Seokjin and Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.” Namjoon said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake in which you obliged. You definitely didn’t miss the intricate design of a floral arrow lining his inner forearm. That must’ve been his soulmate marking. You soon found yourself seated next to Hoseok and Jungkook after buying your meal.

You were chewing your noodles when Taehyung spoke up to catch everyone at that table’s attention, “Where are they? Shouldn’t their class be over already?”

“Apparently they just ended 5 minutes ago. Minie told me they’re on their way now.” Seokjin replied.

Who were the ‘they’ Taehyung was referring to?

Were there more of their friends?

Oh great.

You refocused on your food, taking a bite out of the chicken meat as you listened to their ‘first day of university’ story. You found out that Namjoon was a Psychology major, Hoseok was a Dance major and Seokjin was a Culinary major.

You were currently staring at the pile of vegetables that Taehyung so kindly transfers into your bowl, after he asked around on who wants the boiled carrots and broccoli to which you said yes.

Taehyung was passing you every last bit of vegetable to your bowl when a sweet voice spoke up from the end of the table nearest to Namjoon and Seokjin.

“Finally! I thought you’d never make it for lunch.” Namjoon laughed as you heard a much raspier voice speak up from the same spot.

“I wouldn’t miss lunch for the world.” You heard the others laugh when Taehyung finally finished clearing his plate off the vegetables before turning to the newcomers to say his hellos.

“Oh, by the way, we have a new addition to our circle. She’s in Taehyung and Jungkook’s class so they tagged her along for lunch.” Seokjin announced as he reached his arm behind Taehyung to place a soft hand on the top of your right shoulder. You finally looked up from your bowl to see who the newcomers were.

The first guy you locked eyes with had cute puffy cheeks, sporting a pretty dark blue hair colour as his bangs framed his face nicely.

“Oh hello. I’m Jimin.”

You smiled shyly at him before your eyes naturally travelled to the other individual standing right beside Jimin and that’s when you frowned.

Unsurprisingly, the male did too.

His hair was an ash grey colour that parted at the side to show his forehead instead of letting it cover his eyebrows like Hoseok’s did. He had a few piercings on each ear. If his physique was unrecognizable to you, at least his face was. You knew exactly who he was without having to ask him for confirmation.

“Yoongi?” His name rolled off your tongue effortlessly in a whisper, stirring reactions from the rest of them.

“Wait, you know each other?” Jimin asked in confusion as his eyes travelled back and forth between you and Yoongi. That’s when you heard the other scoff before locking his eyes with you.

“Never thought I’d see you again after all these years.” His expression was dry and almost unwelcoming unlike the smiles his other friends gave you upon your first meeting. “Never wished for this day to come either but here we are…” You said sarcastically.

The tension was so thick, you were sure you would have to cut it with a knife instead of a scissors.

You broke the gaze by standing up, claiming you’ve lost your appetite.

“I’ll see you guys in class.” You said, directing your words to your classmates before you snatched your phone and wallet off the table top along with your tray of food to return. With a quick glance to Yoongi, you ignored his burning glare as you shoved past him by the shoulders causing him to stumble back a little.

The table fell quiet as Seokjin was the first to break the awkward silence, “Well, that was unexpected.” Yoongi scoffed as he left the table to go buy his food, not bothering to wait for Jimin as his mind was clouded with the thought of you being in his circle of friends.

The history of you two goes way back when you were in both pre and high school. Your first ever dispute with him was in preschool, all because you were both fighting over the crayon box. And then gradually, more fights would happen over silly little things. It came to a point where your teacher would have to separate you from each other.

Your disputes continued after you found out that he just so happened to join the same high school as you, let alone the same class. It only made things worse. You two would bicker and fight almost everyday like a married couple.

Your friends teased you often with him for the amount of fights you got into with him. They’ve even grown accustomed to the harsh comments you had thrown to each other on a daily basis.

Not a day goes by without either him stepping on your tail or you having a payback for all the pranks he did on you to get you worked up. And yet, just when you thought you were free from seeing the devil himself again, life has its way with you and it bothers you to the core at this very instant.

Your lecturer arrived back at the lecture room 15 minutes before 1pm and it seemed like everyone else was still having lunch. All except you. “You’re here early? Have you had your lunch?” He asked as he proceeded to unlock the room while you lingered behind him, standing up after you saw him approaching from afar.

“Yeah, I did.” You smiled, stepping back into the room after he pushed the door open. You climbed the stairs again to where your belongings were, taking out your air pods to bury yourself in music.

Shutting out the world around as you rested your head in your arms on the table. You didn’t notice the people strolling into the lecture room, too busy drowning yourself in your own little bubble. All of it soon came crumbling when you felt a soft tap on your shoulder.

That’s when you look up to see the 2 of them back in their seats.

You glanced ahead to see that the lecturer had already flashed the new slides onto the projector screen which indicates the start of class again. So you took out your air pods and kept them in its case before tossing it into your bag.

Class resumed and your messy thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind, far away from your main focus right now which was your class.

After a dreadful 4 hours of lessons, your lecturer finally calls it a day. He reminded all of you to be punctual for class tomorrow, saying that he has some group discussions for the topic he would be teaching. Once everyone was dismissed, you kept your stuff back into your bag quietly.

You could tell the two boys were waiting for you since they hadn't moved a muscle from beside you despite already standing up and were just leaning against the table while they chatted. The minute you stood up, they pushed themselves off the table and only then did they start walking down the steps.

The three of you made it to ground level thanks to the operating lift, making your way to the parking lot that was right beside the campus entrance.

You were just talking to Jungkook about your hobbies when you noticed a group of 5 guys gathered at the steps of the campus grounds through your peripheral vision. You could only guess it was their friends due to the voice that calls out to those walking with you. They led you towards the bunch as you glanced over to everyone but him.

“Hey Y/N, how did you come here this morning?” Namjoon asked, his voice nothing but sincere.

“Public transport.” You said simply with a smile directed towards him, only for Seokjin to speak up, “Do you need a ride home? I can drive you?”

With that being said, you kindly shook your head with a smile, not wanting to offend him in any way for turning his offer down. “It’s fine, I can manage on my own. Thanks for the offer though. Maybe next time.” You said as you bid the rest of them goodbye, not bothering to look at the very person you’ve held your grudge on for years.

They watched as you turned in your heels and left, deadpanning your way to the front gates. Jimin sighed lightly before turning to Yoongi and asked for answers on why you and him weren’t on good terms.

But the latter only brushed Jimin off, saying he would explain some other time.

The rest of them soon dispersed to their own vehicles to head home after a long and tiring first day of university.

As more days began to pass, you were sometimes dragged by either one of your 2 classmates to hang out with their friends and girlfriends. If you weren’t mistaken, half of them already found their soulmates and were currently in a relationship with them. While the remaining half were still finding for theirs because it was either their soulmate markings had appeared on their skin but very faintly, or there was none at all.

But the amount of times you’ve recalled hanging out with them during the past three months were countable with your fingers. You avoided having lunch with them often ever since you found out Yoongi was in their circle. You didn’t want to seem petty but it seems like he too hated having you around.

Which means that the feelings were mutual on both ends.

It was a pretty warm day so right after you arrived back at your apartment, you headed straight for the showers. Slipping into the shower stream the minute your clothes were discarded.

The cold stream coating your shoulder down with it’s nice, cooling temperature to ease out the warmth in your body.

After you finished your shower, you took your towel from the rack and proceeded to wipe yourself dry. Stepping out of the cubicle, you walked over to the sink counter where your large mirror was glued onto the wall. As you were ruffling your hair with the towel to rid the excess water, you noticed something on your left rib through the reflection.

Is that…?

You glanced down at your skin to see a very faint outline of something on your skin. You blinked twice, not believing this.

When did it start showing?

Your mind was going feral at the thought of seeing your soulmate marking finally make its appearance onto your skin. Who was the cause of this? Why did it only appear now after all these years? If that’s the case then it means that your soulmate is someone from school.

“What am I thinking? This is all a load of crap. I can date whoever I want no matter what marking they have.” You said to no one in particular as you changed into your home attire.

A few days later, you were just in class alone in the morning. Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to arrive when a sudden voice from beside you made you jump. A soft curse emitted from your throat as you clutched to your chest from the minor heart attack. You turned to find one of your classmates whom you recalled his name to be Hanbin, towering over you to your left.

“Hey, I’m Hanbin.” He smiled at you, feeling your stomach get warm upon seeing him up close for the first time.

“Hey… I’m Y/N.”

“I don’t mean to be creepy or weird, but I’ve kind of noticed you going for lunch alone these days instead of with your friends?” He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. You somehow knew where this was going.

“Right… Well, that is true I suppose.” You chuckled awkwardly, looking away from him briefly before turning your attention back to him.

“I see. Well, if you’re looking for company, you can go for lunch with me?” He said it more like a statement instead of a question and that in itself made you smile. You had just accepted his kind offer when you heard familiar voices approaching to where you were seated.

Hanbin’s eyes glanced past your shoulder only to flicker back to you, setting a reminder before he left.

“Lunch with me later, yeah?”

You gave him a soft nod as a smile crept onto your lips. At the same time, you felt the soft nudge to your right elbow. You already knew who’s the culprit. “Wasn’t that Hanbin? What did he say to you?” Taehyung asked as he took a seat beside you.

“He asked me to go for lunch with him.”

“So you agreed?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna go for lunch with him but not us?” Taehyung asked with a pout, only for Jungkook to lean over and ask what was going on. You could only roll your eyes at them, not actually annoyed or anything. Just a reflex whenever someone tried to get your sympathy over something stupid.

“Give me a break. I’m not sharing a table with ‘you know who’. Wouldn’t wanna accidentally break the table with our arguments.” You flashed him a sarcastic smile that made him click his tongue at you in disbelief.

It has been two months since you first went to lunch with Hanbin and you have been doing that ever since. You noticed that his demeanour was starting to change too around you, maybe there was a mutual feeling settling in between the two of you after all.

It was a Saturday afternoon and you already made plans with Hanbin a week prior. He wanted to bring you out on a date to the amusement park and then maybe grab some supper before heading home. He picked you up at your apartment that evening in his jeep, looking quite handsome if you say so yourself.

The two of you spent the evening together, adrenaline rushing through you thanks to the rides you took. After enjoying yourselves at the amusement park, you were both tired from having fun so he offered to stop by and grab supper with you before sending you home.

You ended up getting fast food at the diner downtown. You were happy. You were grateful that he was nothing but sweet to you. But for some reason, deep down there was that voice in you that was screaming, “He’s not the one” and you hated it. You didn’t want to rely on the marking to determine your happiness.

What if you belonged to someone who has a different marking than you?

That’s possible right?

So when he finally parked right outside your apartment complex, he turned off the engine leaving his key in the ignition. The car fell silent for a moment before you decided to be brave and spoke up.

“Do you… wanna come up for a bit? We can talk for a while longer?”

With that, Hanbin frowned as he wondered if he should. He didn’t want to ruin a first date and he most definitely did not want you to have a bad impression on him.

“Are… Are you sure?” He asked quietly, to which you nodded.

When you didn’t get a proper response, you simply let out a soft giggle followed by, “come on” before you opened his jeep door to board off the vehicle. You left him no choice but to follow after you. Once you’ve made it to your apartment, you unlocked your front door and stepped inside allowing him to enter.

It took him a while as his eyes travelled all over your cosy apartment, admiring the minimalist interior. You told him to take a seat while you went to get him a drink.

A few minutes passed and you were both just talking freely on your couch when you noticed how his eyes always flickered down to your lips constantly as you spoke. This made you stifle a giggle and he caught on. He apologized for it but you brushed it off.

Just then, the room felt quiet all of a sudden as it was your turn to glance down to his lips.

Hanbin softly smiled as he began to lean closer.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you could feel his warmth radiating off his body from how close he was to you.

Right when you felt your head get dizzy from the close proximity, you unconsciously whispered against his lips something that you would never normally do.

“Kiss me.”

With that being said, he pressed his plump lips on yours.

Immediately intoxicating you with how sweet he tasted. The kiss slowly got heated as he carefully guided your body back to lay on the couch while he hovered over you. His hands slid past the hem of your shirt, resting on your waist as he caressed your skin.

You slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. He slowly pushed your shirt up using his wrists. Right when he’d just pulled away for a breather, his eyes travelled down to your bare torso beneath him.

His gaze seemed stuck on whatever he was looking at. When you realized he stopped and was staring at something on your body, you knew exactly what he saw.

“Is that…?” His voice was soft, almost sounding as though he was upset.

“Yeap…”

With this confession, he slowly pulled away from you, tugging your shirt back down and bringing you to a sitting position.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He began but you were quick to hush him.

“It’s okay… Besides, I should be the one saying sorry. I already saw your marking the other day when you wore a tank top to class. I just thought you’d be okay with dating someone who doesn’t share the same mark as you. I guess I was being selfish…” You said.

Hanbin remained quiet as he listened to your reasoning. Suddenly feeling bad for stopping whatever you two were sharing, so abruptly like that. With that, he reached out to hold your hand, telling him that he was still sorry for reacting that way and for hurting your feelings by doing so.

But he told you he didn’t regret taking you out on a date today, that he genuinely had a good time with you and that he would love to still be friends with you if you allowed him.

You smiled at him before turning your attention to the flower pot sitting on your coffee table only for him to continue, “I just hope that you’ll find someone who will love you for who you are, doesn’t matter the mark.” For that, you smiled again. Thanking him for being sweet and thoughtful.

After he left, you couldn’t help but sigh. This was already the umpteenth time this happened to you.

But you couldn’t stay mad at Hanbin for turning you down simply because he didn’t reject you the way your other ex dates did. That was the reason why you let him go without holding a grudge.

The next few weeks, you’ve gone to lunch on an alternate basis between Hanbin and the guys. And every time you went with the guys, you could only prepare yourself for the constant bickering with the one and only, Min Yoongi and today was no different.

You were sitting next to Namjoon at the end of the table with the only space left empty being beside you. And it was as though luck wasn’t on your side, the only human left to arrive for lunch was none other than Yoongi himself.

You were just sipping your green tea when you heard his voice approaching towards your side of the table.

“Sorry hyung, that’s the only seat left.” Jungkook smiled sympathetically to the elder as you made it a point to not spare a glance over to him. You could hear his grunt of disapproval but nonetheless plopped his bag down on the chair before disappearing to buy his food.

When he did come back, you had just gotten a whole chunk of chocolate fudge cake shoved into your mouth by Taehyung who was seated opposite you.

You were unable to pull the dangling piece of cake into your mouth so you tilted your head back. But instead of the cake entering your mouth, it ended up falling into your hands when you felt your head crash into something behind you.

And the hiss just told you who it was.

“Watch it before I spill hot soup on you.” Yoongi said as he placed the bowl of steaming noodle soup on the table top beside your tray.

“Don’t worry because I’ll make sure it spills on you too.” You challenged him back, earning a glare from him.

You heard a few sighs coming from some of the guys but you couldn’t care less. You busied yourself by scrolling through your social media in hopes that the time would just pass by quicker so that you can be away from him after lunch ends.

A few days later, you had just finished your shower when you noticed your mark slowly growing more and more opaque. To which you could finally see the design of it.

It was a dream catcher.

A pretty one at that. You softly traced your finger over the outline of the detail, keeping your eye on the reflection. Just then, a soft sigh left your lips.

This means that your designated soulmate has supposedly crossed your path more than once. But seeing how the ink is getting darker with each passing day, could only mean that if not often, this person is near you at least more than 3 times a week.

A week went by and Jungkook had invited you to his birthday slash pool party that weekend. He invited only the guys and some of their girlfriends. You’ve met the girlfriends a few times and they’ve all been pretty sweet to you so far. All of them are so down to earth. You told Jungkook you’ll be there, earning a happy soft clap from him when you said so.

On the day of the party, you had just finished your shower when you noticed the water droplets underneath you weren’t clear. You looked harder only to realize those weren’t water.

It was blood.

“Great… Thanks mother nature…” You huffed as you went to get your feminine item from your cupboard. After successfully changing into the attire you chose for the day, you tied your hair into a messy ponytail before leaving your bathroom.

You wore simple denim shorts and a loose shirt tucked into your jeans.

When you actually made it to Jungkook’s house, you were surprised to know that he was living in a one story house with a built-in pool ready when he moved in.

Apparently his parents were pretty wealthy people so they bought this house for him, saying it would give him the opportunity to take responsibility in keeping the house clean and tidy rather than his mother having to do it for him all the time.

You called Jungkook’s phone only for him to pick up on the second ring. You told him you were at his front gate so he hung up the call and rushed over to you.

Once you were inside his beautiful compound, he brought you towards the back through his side garden. Distinct voices gradually get louder the nearer you get to them. The minute you turned round the corner, you instantly saw more than half of them in the pool including the ladies.

Seokjin and Taehyung were over at the barbeque grill, cooking the meat for everyone. There was a table filled with all kinds of snacks and sweet drinks. It was a full on pool party.

Just then, a familiar voice rings in your ear already knowing it belonged to Hoseok.

“Y/N! You made it! Come join us!”

You stopped at one of the chairs only to put your sling bag down and apologized to him, “Sorry to burn the mood, but I can’t. Monthly calls.” You could hear some whines and sad pouts forming on some of their faces right after.

“Aww man, that’s a total bummer.” Jimin said, making you shrug.

However, you noticed a figure leaning against the wall on the other side of the pool just blankly staring at you. That’s when you glanced over to see Yoongi. You held your stare for a moment before you turned away. Missing the way he was still staring at you even when you were making your way to Seokjin and Taehyung.

A few minutes later, you were just talking to Jiyeon who was taking a break from being in the pool. You sat facing each other but from where you were seated, your back was facing the grilling pit.

Jiyeon was just talking to you about baking when you noticed someone swimming to the side that was aligned with where you were sitting.

Only to realize it was Yoongi.

He placed his hands on the edge of the pool and soon pushed himself upwards. You watched as water flowed down his body effortlessly. Cursing yourself for even staring at his shirtless form. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, resulting in him having sort of a slick back hairstyle.

He was too busy talking to Hoseok and Jungkook who were still in the pool, his head completely turned away from you.

Right when you were about to look away, your eyes caught sight of the imprinted ink on his left rib. You didn’t think much of it as you turned away from him. But then something in your brain ticked you off like a time bomb. So you carefully turned back to him just a few feet away from you.

That’s when you saw it.

The dream catcher on his left rib is so prominent and bold against his milky skin. Not to mention his toned abs. A soft gasp left your lips as he walked past you without sparing a single glance at you.

But you didn’t mind it. You were glad he didn’t see how shocked you were because if it did, he would have said something about it.

So instead, you just got up and left, entering Jungkook’s home through the glass doors frantically. You rushed in and went straight to the said destination. Once inside, you took a moment to steady your breathing as you brought your gaze up to the long mirror that laid upon you on the wall landscape.

You carefully pulled your shirt up to expose the ink on your own skin. You could only stare at it through the reflection before looking down at your own torso and gently tracing your finger over the outer rim of the dream catcher’s hoop.

You didn’t know how long you were gone for. It wasn’t until a voice broke your train of thoughts.

“Was it really necessary to rush into someone’s house like-”

However, his speech got stuck in his throat when his eyes flickered over to the reflection in the mirror. No it wasn’t your face he was staring at. It wasn’t the soap bottles lining Jungkook’s sink.

It was your mark on your left rib.

You swiftly pulled your shirt down to hide it from him from seeing any more details of it. With quick hasty steps, you turned to leave the bathroom and had barely taken a step out into the hallway when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to face him.

“Show me.” He said firmly.

“Show you what?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean-”

Without warning, Yoongi used his free hand to lift your shirt up to stop right below your bra line as his hands naturally cupped your sides to keep your shirt there. He finally caught a clear look of the inked design on you, seeing how familiar it looked to him.

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicked wider for just a millisecond before it went back to its original state.

For some reason, your lung felt restricted and your heart dropped upon seeing the same mark on his skin at the same exact spot as yourself. You wanted to run away. All you wanted to do now was to be as far away from him as you can.

So you slapped his hands away, making him lose his grip on you before you turned around to leave.

He grabbed your wrist again but this time, you mustered whatever strength you had left to yank your arm from him. Tears stinging your eyes as it threatens to fall, yet you don’t fully understand why.

“Don’t! J-Just… leave me alone… please.” Your voice falls into a whisper as you rush to the backyard, ignoring their worried calls as you simply told them you weren’t feeling well because of your monthly calls. When Yoongi did come back to the backyard, he was questioned as to what happened back in the house and why you looked like you were about to cry.

Yoongi couldn’t help but stare at your descending back just in time before you turned the corner and disappeared fully from sight. Only for him to lie to them despite knowing exactly why you left.

“She wasn’t feeling well.”

The week went by and you have been avoiding coming relatively close to the rest other than the 2 who were obviously unavoidable. But it’s not like you had anything against them. You just wanted to avoid Yoongi at all costs for now. It was a Friday and you had just finished your classes for the day when the two boys exchanged glances to each another before Jungkook spoke up.

“Hey, do you wanna grab something to eat with us after this?” You knew he was being nice. You knew he wasn’t to blame for Yoongi having the same exact soulmate mark as you. So for that, you chose not to lash out at him.

“It’s fine. I’ll pass.” You smiled half heartedly and they could tell. But thankfully, they chose not to question further.

The three of you were walking towards the main entrance as usual when you saw the rest of the group seeming to wait for you three. You glanced up to Jungkook beside you who gestured a small wave to the others, only for you to accidentally look over.

And the first thing you saw was Yoongi already looking at you.

Great.

Before you could get to close, you bid your goodbyes to your friends as you separated from them to head towards the gates. Nobody has yet to know why you were acting this way other than Yoongi himself. You were just halfway through the parking lot when a firm grip on your wrist made you turn after being tugged back gently.

You nearly crashed into the figure whom you weren’t surprised when you saw it was him.

“Stop acting like a child.” He said, his tone held something much more than just firmness. He sounded like he’s… hurt almost.

“So what? This marking thing is a load of bullshit. Why does it determine who we should be with? That’s unfair! I’ve seen couples who have different marks and yet they’re still happy together?!” You said, clearly letting your emotions take over your mind.

“If you think it’s bullshit then why are you ignoring me like I’ve just killed your pet?!” He asked, his voice now a tad louder than it was before.

“Because all the guys I’ve tried dating care too much about these marks! Every single one of them ditched me when they found out I didn’t have the same mark! And what are the odds that the one person who has the same exact mark as me, happens to be the one person that has been nothing but a daily source of fight with me?” You paused as his grip on you loosened, his glare suddenly softened.

“Of course I couldn’t believe it… I didn’t want to believe that of all people, it’s you… That’s why I ignore you.” Your voice grew soft as you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth on your own brown pupils.

“So you’re saying you hate me? Is that it?” His question was simple but it held a thousand meanings and you knew it.

“I don’t even know anymore, Yoongi…” You whispered as you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip and quickly left before he could say anything else. Yoongi stood there trying to process everything. Still not entirely sure of what just happened. Just then, a gentle hand on his shoulder made him return back to reality.

“Hey man, you okay?” Namjoon’s calm voice spoke from beside Yoongi as the latter could only nod.

“We heard your conversation… Well, we didn’t intend to anyways… But, is it true? That you both have the same mark?” Namjoon continued.

He could hear the soft, quiet curse leaving Yoongi’s lips during his exhale before he spoke up, “Yeah… That was actually the reason why she abruptly left during Jungkook’s pool party.” Yoongi explained and it all began to fall into place for Namjoon. The younger could only nod as he finally put the pieces together.

“Mmm, and so I’m guessing she’s too overwhelmed with the fact that you have the mark out of a billion people to walk this planet?” Namjoon said.

“Bingo.” Yoongi sighed as the two began to walk back to their friends who were still gathered at the entrance despite hearing the commotion earlier. If space is what you need, then space is what he shall give. But of course, you can’t run from him forever.

It has been two weeks since your outburst with Yoongi and you have been keeping your distance from him again. The guys also didn’t try to tag you along knowing fully well that you needed space from Yoongi. For that, you silently thanked them. It was a Saturday night and you had made it a point to go for a quick grocery run to stock up your refrigerator with edible food.

After getting all the items you needed, you went to the queue. The lady at the counter scanned every item on the conveyor belt and went ahead to put it in the plastic bag before telling you the total cost.

You were about to reach into your jeans pocket when you noticed them being flat.

You felt around the pockets of your jeans and it was in fact empty. With that being said, you mentally cursed yourself for not bringing your wallet with you. Not only that, this store was the only one nearest to your apartment and it was closing in 10 minutes.

You wouldn’t make it back in time if you went home now to retrieve your wallet.

So you apologized to the lady who looked equally done with her job as you left the store empty handed. You were just walking down the partially empty street when you felt something drop onto your cheek. You stopped walking to feel what it was. Before you could touch your cheek, another drop hits the top of your head. And then another. And another.

“Fuck my life…”

You whispered to yourself as the sky suddenly began to downpour on you. Watching as some people ran across the road for shelter, some whips out their umbrella to shield them from the rain, some simply stayed indoors to avoid being caught in the rain.

However, you were too tired to even care about seeking shelter. Feeling as if today was the worst day of your life.

You continued to stroll down the street completely soaked under the rain.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in attempts to keep yourself warm but it clearly did no shit for you. Absent minded to notice your surroundings, you didn’t hear the calls for your name until the vehicle came to a gradual slow speed beside you on the street.

“Y/N!”

It was Yoongi.

“Leave me alone…”

“Y/N, why in the world are you walking in the heavy rain? You might fall sick, you dummy.”

“Who c-cares?” Your lips were starting to quiver from the cold.

“I do.”

You could’ve sworn your heart just skipped a beat at that response.

“Look, let me take you to my place and get you dry clothes while waiting for the rain to stop. I’ll send you home after.” He said.

“I d-don’t need your… h-help, Yoongi.”

He let out a soft groan in annoyance with your stubbornness, only to drive a little further down before bringing the car to a complete stop. You were about to carry on walking but your feet just came to a halt when you saw him running out of his car and coming to you.

“Come on and stop whining like a little kid.” Yoongi said as he grabbed your wrist and began jogging back to his car, pulling you into the passenger side before going back to the driver seat.

Once safely inside, he drove off into the night and made a left turn at the junction while your apartment building was to the right and probably about a 20 minutes walk. The car ride was quiet as neither of you said anything. You simply let him do what he said he would. When he finally brought the car to a park, he turned off the engine and soon climbed out of the vehicle.

You followed suit as he had already come over to your side to hold the door for you. After he’d locked the car, he led you to his apartment complex as you followed behind him. You took in the interior of his apartment complex, it looked slightly older than yours but still well maintained.

Apparently, he lived on the 14th floor unlike you who lived on the 5th floor.

He soon pulls out his house key and proceeds to unlock his front door. He opens the door for you, letting you step inside first. Once he had closed the door behind him, he told you to wait there as he excused himself to go get you a clean towel and new dry clothes for you to change into.

You took in the minimalist setting of his apartment, quite similar to yours except your walls are white and his is grey.

Yoongi came back with a handful, telling you where the bathroom was.

You followed his directions and soon closed the bathroom door once you’ve stepped inside. In the meantime, Yoongi had gone to change out of his own wet clothes into a clean pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie. He was boiling hot water to make hot chocolate for the two of you when you cleared your throat behind him.

He turned around at the sound, only for him to scheme through your outfit in which he had so specifically chosen for you. He had lent you one of his sleeping shorts and an oversized black hoodie that looked a little too big on you.

But for some reason, you looked good in them.

He almost had to pinch himself for staring too long before he finally spoke up, “Uhh, my dryer’s in the laundry room. Second door to the left.”

You nodded as you disappeared back down the hall, only for him to mentally curse himself for losing his composure. After 2 minutes or so, you came back having managed to turn the dryer on.

He handed you the cup of hot chocolate, not forgetting to thank him for it.

There was a short moment of peaceful silence before he gestured over to his living room. The both of you went over to the couch as you sat on either ends of the furniture. He turned his tv on and was busying himself with searching through Netflix when you mustered up the courage to ask him what was on your mind for the past half an hour.

“Why did you help me?”

Yoongi turned to you briefly, unsure if he should answer the question truthfully.

“As much as we fight, I’m not entirely heartless.”

Your eyes bore into him as you soon found yourself looking down at your hands when he turned to look at you. If it wasn’t for the tv, you knew for a fact that he could’ve heard the thumping of your heart. Silence fell over you two again but he broke it as soon as it started.

“Why were you walking in the rain?”

“I was on a grocery run.”

“But I don’t recall seeing you carry any bags of groceries?”

“That’s because I couldn’t pay for it without my wallet…”

He raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief, finding it ridiculous that you only realized it when you were checking out of the store.

“Shut up. This kind of stuff happens okay…” You scoffed, earning a quiet chuckle coming from him followed by an, “Okay, okay.” The room fell silent again and you were just playing with the strings of your hoodie.

Silently wishing for time to pass quicker but it seems like the rain only got heavier.

“Look, I think we should just forget about the whole marking thing and just… start over?” He said, causing you to look at him but he seemed like he was diligently avoiding your gaze.

“Start… over?” You dragged your words to show that you wanted a slightly more detailed explanation.

“What I mean is… let’s stop ignoring each other and stop fighting over the smallest little issues like we did when we were young. Back then we were still young and immature. But we’re not anymore, are we?” He ended with a question, making you huff.

You know he has a point but your ego is still higher than ever.

“Are you only saying this because I’m your soulmate?”

“No. I really am tired of fighting with you.”

“Why now? Why only want to call truce after you’ve seen my mark? Doesn’t that say a lot?” You were stubborn and he knows it. And yet, he still answers you to clear all your doubts.

Surprisingly patient with you.

“I know it might look like what you think, but it’s really not. I don’t care about the marking much like you. But after thinking about it, I feel like it’s actually childish to hold a grudge on each other for the things we’ve done years ago, don’t you think?” He explained, hoping it’ll get past that rock solid head of yours.

Your heart knows he’s right but your mind forces you to say otherwise.

With that, you huffed as you got up and excused yourself to go check on your clothes. Before you could make it past the first door on the left, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you back.

He pressed you against the wall with his other hand beside your head to trap you.

Your free hand hovered in between both yours and his chest as he was less than 4 inches away. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath hitting your lips. You would’ve slapped him if he did this years ago.

But now?

“Why are you so stubborn?”

He asked, his voice low as you kept your heated gaze on his eyes even though you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and lips.

Rising heat from both anger and his body temperature radiated off him, engulfing you like a cocoon. You could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate a few times now that he was this close to you. It was quiet in the hallway as he frowned, still waiting for an answer from you. But instead, you gently pressed your hand on his warm chest that was in between your bodies.

This was enough to make him flinch slightly. His crammed face relaxed for a moment when he looked down at your hand on his chest before looking back at you.

Even more confusion struck him.

Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest, and you were so sure he could hear it. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer so you looked down at your hand as you slid it up towards the necklace he was wearing. Playing with the pendant in between your fingers.

You didn’t realise this but his grip on your wrist was long gone and was now slowly snaking that arm around your waist.

Yoongi leaned in very subtly to let his lips brush against yours just to see your reaction. He closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of having you this close for the first time. You did the same as your other hand rested on his left bicep. Before you knew it, he closed whatever remaining gaps in between only to kiss you.

Your heart exploded in your chest as he used the hand beside your head to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch while you reciprocated the kiss. Yoongi’s grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you against him.

He felt both your hands now just holding onto his biceps for support, his lips tugging upwards against your mouth.

You could feel his muscles flexing under your fingertips as he pulled away from your mouth and was now trailing soft kisses down your neck. A soft sigh left your lips, feeling him give some love to the part that joins your neck and shoulder blade together.

“Yoongi…” Your voice came out as a mere whisper.

Just when you wanted to say something, your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his hands slip past your shirt only to rest them on your sides when your mark was.

His touch was gentle but it definitely did something to your poor heart.

“Answer me truthfully… Are you okay with… this?” Yoongi asked, gesturing between you and him. “With us? Because you can say no if you’re really against this. I would never force you.”

You stared at him for a while, rethinking your answer. You’ve been so firm about not caring who has the same soulmate mark as you because you thought it was all bullshit. But now, standing in front of him and knowing that he has the mark, not only that but he seemed like he really genuinely likes you is making it twice harder for you to say no.

But your silence was too long for him as he counted to 3 in his mind. When you didn’t respond, he slowly nodded. Pulling himself away to leave a space between you.

“It’s okay, I understand… I think your clothes are dry. Go change, I’ll wait outside.” His voice was quiet as if he’s too upset, he can’t even look you in the eye. You felt bad. You never wanted him to feel this way. So when he turned in his heels to walk away, you yearned for him to come back.

Yoongi was halfway down his living room when he felt a smaller hand slide into his right one. His step came to a halt as he kept his back to you.

He was about to ask if there's something wrong but all he got was a soft apology.

“I’m sorry…”

You watched as he remained still, his back still facing you. Doing nothing to turn and look at you. Yoongi wasn’t sure what he wanted to do at the moment so he kept quiet.

Just then, you used your other hand to cup his that you were already holding. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like this. But he definitely wasn’t prepared for what you were about to do next. You weren’t sure if you trust your voice so instead, you took a few steps closer before wrapping your arms around his waist.

Pressing your cheek against his back. You stayed like that for a few seconds, basking in the sweet vanilla scent of his.

You could feel him tense up when you first hugged him but he soon relaxed in your arms.

You didn’t dare to do anything else, all until you felt him softly caress your arms only to lock his fingers with yours over top of your hands. You only nuzzled your face deeper into his back, afraid to look at him.

But when you feel him slowly move around in your arms, that’s when you let him face you.

The minute he sees your face, he immediately cups your cheeks and wasted no time in kissing you ever so sweetly. The butterflies in your stomach erupted as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, feeling him pull you closer to him by your waist.

He held you securely against him all the while never leaving your lips. You were the first to pull away, keeping the distance small between you and him.

Your eyes were still closed so you depended on your senses.

That wasn’t until you felt him cup your face again, caressing your cheek with his thumbs. The room fell silent as he brushed his soft lips against yours and whispered to you quietly, “Can we start over?”

You opted for just a nod, unsure if you could trust your voice. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you so softly with his doe round eyes.

Yoongi smiled, whispering an ‘okay’ before he kissed you again. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you melted against his lips. He took his time with you, making sure you were comfortable and that you really wanted this. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. He kept asking for your permission before he did anything and you appreciated it.

You woke up the next morning to a warm feeling engulfing you from behind. You stirred in your sleep, trying to see what it was. But the squeeze around your waist made you look down to see the familiar arm draped over your waist, tucking his hands underneath you. The silver bracelet around his right wrist could never be mistaken for someone else.

Just when you were about to snuggle deeper into the warmth of his body, you felt him kiss the back of your head. Your heart pounded in your chest, stomach flipped in your belly.

“Mmm, good morning.” He whispered, his morning voice low and raspy.

You sighed in content as you turned around to face him, only to find that he still had his eyes closed but there was a smile that crept on his lips.

With that, you smiled as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. You could feel him smirk against your lips, earning a soft giggle from you. His arm that was supporting your head, bent at the elbows as he began to play with your soft hair.

The next day, you came to school feeling a little down in the weather. Maybe it was a late reaction to when you got drenched in the rain. You were sniffling in your seat when Taehyung and Jungkook immediately caught the sight of your red nose.

“Hey, are you sick? Your nose is red.” Jungkook said, his voice laced with full concern. You simply shook him off saying it was just light flu.

The other two weren’t buying it, they said they would go get medicine for you after class and you all but rejected them. The last thing you’d wanna do was to burden them.

So after your morning class has ended and you have been dismissed for lunch, the three of you made it to the cafeteria only to find the rest of the guys already seated. But you and Yoongi still haven’t told them about your resolve yet. So they thought you two were still ignoring each other.

“Hey guys! Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of pale…” Namjoon asked, making you smile.

“It’s just a little flu, that’s all.” You said, completely missing the way Yoongi was staring at you with pure concern.

“Do you wanna go home and rest?” Hoseok asked in which you shook your head, before a squeaky sneeze left your lips not forgetting to cover your mouth while you did. “Sorry…” You whispered an apology, earning a few laughs from them. Just then, Yoongi got up without a word, leaving the table.

You watched as he disappeared down the aisle towards the drink stall. You wondered what he was doing but nevertheless shrugged, going to the empty seats beside him and Jimin.

You took a seat beside Yoongi’s empty chair, not really having the appetite to eat.

You were just rejecting Jimin’s offer to feed you some of his food when Yoongi came back with a glass of hot tea, a bottle of water and a strip of two panadol flu tablets. The rest of them watched quietly as he sat down beside you and handed you the drinks.

“Here, take this.” He said softly, pulling your hand up to push the two tablets out of the strip onto your open palms.

“Oh? Since when are you guys on good terms?” Taehyung asked in utter confusion.

“We’re not. We’re just acting.” Yoongi replied sarcastically before twisting the bottle cap open for you. He waited for you to throw your head back and let the tablets fall into your mouth before gulping down the water.

After you were done, you thanked him quietly. You didn’t miss the little smirk on his face.

“Okay…” Seokjin said as he gently slammed his hands onto the table top, making some of you flinch.

“What’s going on? Last week you were both ignoring each other and now you’re taking care of her like she means the world to you?” He asked as you turned to Yoongi for help.

“Don’t you know the saying ‘People change’?” Yoongi said.

“Of course, but it’s almost too drastic. Just over the weekend too.” Seokjin said in disbelief.

“Well, I guess it happens.” Yoongi shrugged as Jungkook directed his question to you.

“So I’m guessing you too?”

“No. I still hate him.” You lied.

“Is that so? Then why are you holding his pinkie?” Hoseok smirked, pointing to your intertwined pinkie on the table. With that, you quickly removed your hands from Yoongi.

“Hey... Why did you let go? I was about to play with your fingers.”

Yoongi said with a small pout, making you blush. Just then, Yoongi reached back over to lace his fingers with yours, resting your hands on his lap only to steal a quick kiss to your cheek.

This stirred a few dramatic gasps from your other friends. “Did you guys see that?! That was- omg!” Seokjin’s voice was too loud, making Jimin cover his mouth with his hands.

“Oh hush your pie hole dust. Just let me be happy for once.” Yoongi smirked as you felt him caress the back of your hand. He’s definitely going to be a handful but you’re more than happy to entertain his crap.

~~~

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts x reader #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi scenario #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga scenarios #bts suga imagines #suga fluff

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡ #mine

[toomanyrobins2]

sweeter than honey pt. 10

Summary: Y/N “Honey” Cirillo has been many things in her short life: an unwanted child, a dancing prodigy, a teen mom, and now she’s a replacement bride. After her sister runs away, Y/N is forced to take her place and marry into the Barton family. The Three Families are already dealing with enough. With the murder of a high-ranking member and HYDRA continuing to make threats, they need this marriage to go ahead without a hitch. Can Clint and Y/n find happiness or is there too much against them?

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Content warning: Arranged marriage, sex, violence, murder

Notes: They're getting their fresh start!

series masterlist // next part

Coming home from the disastrous dinner, Y/N was quiet. Her mind wouldn’t stop swirling and she needed this day to be over as soon as possible and would take any help she could get to make that happen. Edith could see that she needed some support. She went home with her and Nola to help with bedtime. She knew well the nerves that came with being stuck at home while chaos threatened their world.

Y/N lay in bed with Nola, running her fingers through her curls. “Momma, is Clint going to be okay?”

She sighed and nodded, “Yes, he will be. His job is hard and that’s why they all looked so serious.”

Nola’s little brow furrowed in confusion, “They ALL have the same job?”

Y/N took a deep breath as she tried to find a way to explain all of this to a five-year-old, “They don’t all have the same job, but they work for the same company. Clint is one of the three bosses and his brother used to be one before him and his dad before either of them.”

“What happened to Clint’s brother?”

“He got really, really hurt and he passed away.”

“Nana E says Barney’s the reason you met them.” Y/N smiled sadly, remembering the group standing in the waiting room. She could see Edith sitting there and sending her after Clint. How ridiculous that he ended up being her husband. Y/N nodded and Nola smiled up at her, “Then I love him.”

“Who do you love, sweetheart?”

“Uncle Barney. He’s the reason you met Clint and now I get lots of books and he makes waffles and I have a nana. She even said she’d come to Grandparents’ Day at school!”

Y/N pressed the tip of her finger against Nola’s nose, some of the weight coming off her shoulders as her daughter’s giggles filled the room. A massive yawn followed the giggles and she kissed Nola’s head, “Time for bed. Big day tomorrow. I love you.”

“Love you too, momma.”

Y/N turned the bedroom light off and walked back down the stairs to join Edith in the living room. The older woman handed her a cup of tea as she joined her on the couch with a sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you this dear, this will not be your last night like this.”

Y/N groaned and dropped her head back onto the back of the couch, “You mean Bucky is going to bring more bitchy girls from my high school to our dinners?”

Edith laughed at that, “No, I think he’s learned his lesson there. It may not be girls from high school, but you’ve married someone who has more power than you can imagine. When Barney died, there was a question of what would happen and many fathers came forward, offering their daughters. There’s a lot of disappointment with his choice.”

Y/N laughed bitterly as she tried to hide the tears that were blurring her vision, “It’s oddly comforting to know I’m not unique.”

“That is where you are very wrong. Clint did not have to choose you and yet he did. I think that makes you more unique than you will ever know. I knew you were special from the kindness you showed at the hospital. I had no way of knowing then that you would be my daughter and give me a granddaughter that I adore, but I’m so very glad that you had the impact that you did on him,” Edith pulled Y/N into a hug as she started to cry. The sorrow over what her life had become had taken over and she couldn’t stop. Wiping the tears away, Y/N curled her arms around her legs as she took in a shuddering breath. Edith continued to run a hand over her hair, “Honey, go upstairs to bed. I will stay up and wait for him to be home.”

‘No. I need to know that he’s okay.”

The older woman couldn’t hide her joy that her son had married this woman and nodded in agreement. It didn’t take long for Y/N to start to nod off. Her head lolled to the side and she was asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch.

Y/N wasn’t sure how long she slept, but the front door opening had her jerking awake. Both she and Edith looked up to find a surprised Clint watching them in the doorway, “What are you doing here?”

Edith raised an eyebrow at his tone, “Well, Honey lives here and I came by to help.”

Clint scrubbed a hand down his face, “I’m sorry, it’s been a very long night.”

“It’s alright. I know how these things are. I’m going to use the guest room.” She gave a quick kiss to her son before going up the stairs, leaving the couple in the living room.

Y/N uncurled herself from the couch and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before walking towards Clint, “Is everyone alright? Are you alright?”

“Yes, everything is okay. One of our warehouses was set on fire, but the guards got out in time,” he sighed and slumped against the doorframe, “I’m ready for this night to be over.”

She scoffed, “If you think I’m going to let you go to bed without checking to make sure you’re not injured, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Fine, but I’m showering first.” They made their way upstairs, Y/N helping Clint since his ribs were still aching from the drunken beating he’d gotten. He quickly stripped out of his sweaty clothes and Y/N was left waiting on his bed, wrapped in a blanket. This was the first time she’d spent a long time in his bedroom and took the opportunity to take in every detail. It had been clear he had a decorator come in when they moved in and his bedroom had the same lack of personality. A large, king-sized bed took up most of the space in the room with a large rug underneath that Y/N knew was soft beneath her feet. One wall was nearly entirely windows which she knew were likely one-way and bulletproof like the rest of the house. The entire room was decorated in greys, with the artwork on the walls being the only pops of color. Even those were impersonal prints. The only hint that someone actually lived in the room was the pile of dirty clothes surrounding the hamper and a family picture in a small frame on the bedside table. Y/N ran a finger down the side of the frame as Nola’s words from earlier echoed in her mind. Tears started to fall as she realized how much Nola had missed out on. Edith was such a gift and she found herself wishing once again that her family had loved her.

The bathroom door opened and out walked her husband in only a pair of grey joggers. Y/N quickly scrubbed the tears away with the blanket before turning and letting herself run her eyes over his bare chest, telling herself that it was to make sure that he was uninjured. He raised an eyebrow at how obvious she was being but didn’t say anything. Instead, he took the chance to check her out in return. Finally, her eyes connected with his, “Is everyone alright? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” he walked towards her. She mirrored each step until the back of her knees hit the bed and she was forced to sit. Clint knelt down in front of her, “Are you? Dinner was not what I planned at all. I wanted a small thing with our friends because I wanted you to feel more comfortable in our home. Not be terrorized by Bucky’s weird date. What the fuck was that?”

Y/N looked down at her hands, “We know each other from high school and she hated me. She was friends with Ana and I think that’s all that needs to be said.”

Clint forced her to look at him and for the first time noticed the streaks of dried tears down her face. He ran a hand down her cheek and sighed sadly, “Oh, Honey. Let’s go to bed” Turning off all of the lights, he climbed into bed and curled around her. The movement surprised Y/N and she whispered his name. He kissed the back of her head, “Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, “I just want to sleep and forget all about it.”

“Okay,” Clint tightened his grip on her, “I just need you to know that you never leftovers.”

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the smell of coffee. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in her bed and the memories rushed back from the night before. Burying her face into a pillow, she groaned in embarrassment at what had happened in front of everyone. Clint clearing his throat had her shooting up in bed. He stood by his side of the bed, a tray of food in hand. Y/N looked at him as he sat back down in bed beside her and stole a piece of toast, “I don’t understand.”

Clint spoke slowly, “This is breakfast in bed…it’s something that people do for those they care about.”

She gave him a withering glare, “I understand what breakfast in bed is.”

“We are starting fresh and part of that is teaching you how a man treats his wife. So I’m showing you that I’m sorry by providing delicious breakfast foods for you. Now, eat your waffles.”

Y/N was dazed and mildly confused by what was happening, but did as she was told. The couple shared the tray in bed and Clint forced her to eat everything, saying that he was sick of seeing that she wasn’t taking care of herself the way she should. “What time is it?”

“One something”

“What! What about Nola and school? What about work?”

“I brought her while you were still asleep and Mom is going to take her for the rest of the afternoon. I called your job and you’re taking a sick day. Today is about us without a buffer. I took the day off work and we are going to spend it relaxing and getting to know each other.” Y/N looked like she was going to cry again and Clint started to worry, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I'm just not sure what I’ve done to deserve all of this,” she kissed his cheek, “I’m not easy to live with. I’m stubborn and I make a lot of mistakes, but I really appreciate how patient you’ve been. And last night was really nice and you didn’t have to do that. What I’m trying to say is thank you.”

Clint took a sip from his mug before he spoke, “When I married you, I wanted a partnership. I don't want to just coexist because of the contracts put together for two people who are so different from us. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome or like you are intruding. Could we start again? Today is a new day. We are married and we deserve a clean slate without all of the secrets. So, today, we are going to take some time for ourselves.”

Y/N fell back against the pillows, “Can we sleep a little longer? I never get to sleep late these days.” Clint nodded and took the tray off the bed and started to walk away. “Where are you going?

“You said you wanted to sleep.”

Y/N nervously picked at the blanket as she realized how well she’d slept the night before. Apparently having a furnace who curled around you meant she slept like a baby, “You’re not tired?”

Clint could stop the smile on his face at the question that she was hinting at but refused to say, “Actually, I kind of am. I’ll be back up in a few minutes.”

#toomanyrobins #avengers imagine #avengers #avengers au #avengers x reader #mafia!au #mob!au #mafia au #mafia!avengers #mob au #mob!avengers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes x reader #Clint barton #clint barton imagine #Clint barton x reader #Hawkeye #hawkeye x reader #Hawkeye imagine #mob!clint #marvel au #marvel #marvel imagine #🍯

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 30 - Epilogue [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Omg here it is my loves, the final chapter! ❤ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the series, you made me so happy and I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did! ❤❤ I love you! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of sex and drinking.

Word Count: 4100

                                              3 Years Later

The deep comfort of sleep surrounding you as you snuggled deeper into the covers slowly disappeared as you felt yourself being pulled back, a smile curling your lips. You heaved a sigh as you felt soft kisses on your neck, making you giggle.

Both of you had gone to sleep quite late thanks to your…late night activities, and you were nowhere near ready to face the day, but this was a nice way to wake up.

“Hi,” you said without opening your eyes and felt his breathy laugh warming your neck.

“Hi.”

You whined into your pillow as his arms tightened around you and he buried his face to the crook of your neck while you ran your fingertips over his arm.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, professor.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” Spencer murmured into your skin and you opened your eyes to turn your head.

You were one hundred percent sure that you would never get tired of this view. Spencer’s hair was a mess, quite literally the meaning of bedhead while he watched you with a smile on his lips, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I can think of two people who might disagree with you,” you said and as if on cue, you heard the pitter-patter of little feet along with some gleeful squeals echoing through the hall. Spencer let out a chuckle, dropping his head to your shoulder and you grinned.

“In three, two…”

“Mowning!”

“Open? Open?” you heard the sweet babbling overlapping with each other and you grabbed your dressing gown off the floor, then put it on and went to open the door but as soon as you did, a little figure wheezed past you to climb to the bed while the other one clutched to your leg, looking up at you with bright, shining eyes.

“Hi Daisy!” you cooed and bent down to pick her up while she held her plushie tightly and you turned to see Spencer lifting Laura in the air, making her let out a screech which turned into a giggle.

“Whoa, did you get bigger in a night?!” Spencer asked Laura who nodded fervently, babbling something with only a couple of words clear. You approached the bed to drop Daisy on the soft fluffy covers, making her laugh happily before she scrambled to give Spencer a big kiss on his cheek.

“Where did my kiss go?” you wondered out loud and in a second, you were attacked by two overly enthusiastic toddlers. You burst into laughter and pressed a kiss on top of their heads, then stood up again.

“Okay, who wants to come downstairs with me?”

“Me!” Laura jumped in bed while Daisy bit on the ear of her plushie before she shifted closer to Spencer, obviously still sleepy.

“Daisy?”

She shook her head and rubbed at her eye with her small fist, and Spencer reached out to push back a curl falling over her eyes as she yawned.

Your mother had a point, even if they looked almost identical, their personalities were way too different. Daisy was quite possibly the calmest toddler you had ever seen, she barely cried when she was focused on something, and especially when you put one of her picture books in front of her for her to color them. Spencer had said she most probably took after him.

But Laura? Laura definitely took after you, and your mother and Mina swore by it.

She was a tiny hurricane, completely unstoppable once she had decided to cause chaos. She had even started walking two months before Daisy, and you could barely take her eyes off of her without her sneaking off to somewhere to hide and “scare” you.

But even if they couldn’t be more different, there was one thing for sure. You loved both of them so much that it surprised you how full your heart felt whenever you looked at them.

“Alright then,” you hoisted Laura up, “Let’s go, little monkey!”

“Go!” she repeated, her voice full of excitement and you made your way downstairs, walking past Spencer’s study, then your study before you reached the huge living room with the open kitchen. You put Laura down, then opened the fridge.

“Okay Lulu, which one do we want today, milk or juice?” you asked but met with silence. You frowned, then closed the fridge door to look around, but she was nowhere to be found.

“I looked away for one second,” you muttered to yourself, then peeked your head around the doorframe to see the flash of a familiar mop of curly hair disappear into your study in full speed.

“No no, that’s mommy’s work, that’s mommy’s work!” you rushed to the study and lifted her up before she could touch the board, standing on her tiptoes. She let out a whine, still trying to reach the board and you shook your head.

“Nope, we are not messing up this seating chart, it took me days to complete it,” you said and turned around with her in your arms, then pointed at the two pieces of sample napkins on your table, “Want to help me?”

Laura nodded fervently, “Yes!”

“Which one is pretty?”

Laura looked at you, then looked at the napkins before she pointed at the one on the right.

“This.”

“Oh the pink one?”

“Pink one.” she repeated and looked up at you, “Good job!”

You let out a laugh,

“Yes baby, good job!” you said and walked out of your study with her, closing the door behind you just in case, then entered the kitchen again to find Spencer putting Daisy in her seat. Daisy gave you a big smile, letting you see her baby teeth and you blew her a kiss, then sat Laura down next to her.

“Was she in your study?” Spencer asked as he pulled you closer and you nodded.

“I’m telling you, she can teleport.”

“I doubt that’s the case,” he laughed, handing you a cup of coffee before sipping his own and you inhaled the scent of the coffee as you checked your e-mails.

“Oh babe, dinner tonight at my mom’s place,” you looked up from your phone, “You didn’t forget, right?”

Spencer shook his head, nuzzling into your neck. “Nope. At 8.”

You giggled, running your fingers through his curls, “You’re going to be late for work, professor.”

He heaved a sigh and nodded before he pulled back almost hesitantly and pointed at the twins with his thumb, “Do you want me to drop them off?”

“I got it, no worries.” You stood on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips, “Go. Don’t be late tonight!”

“Cross my heart,” he smiled at you before he kissed both Daisy and Laura, “Hey, you two behave for mommy, deal?”

“Hm?” Laura asked, blinking up at him as she grabbed Daisy’s toy from her and he let out a laugh before he grabbed his satchel.

“See you later!”

“Bye time!” Daisy waved her hand and Laura’s head shot up,

“Bye bye!”

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together as Spencer closed the door behind him, “We will have breakfast, then we will go and see grandma, how does that sound?”

                                                  ***

The best part of having your own company was that you could pick and choose your own clients while letting the rest of the clients to the others. Especially after the twins, that had made things so much easier.

Your business was flourishing and you got to choose your working hours and the couples you wanted to work with.

“I know you guys said you wanted something small,” you said as you walked through the doors to the wedding venue, “But I wanted to make sure you know you have other options.”

There was no answer for a moment and you looked over your shoulder to look at the couple.

“Garcia?” you said and Luke let out a whistle.

“I mean it looks… it looks good.”

“It looks like something out of a fairytale.” Garcia whispered and turned to you, “But Y/N-“

“I know, you have a budget.” You snapped your fingers, “The thing is, the owner of the venue is a good friend of mine, so I’ll talk him into lowering the price a lot. Besides, he owes me one after I got him so many weddings.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Garcia stared at you, “We could have this venue?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have four other venues to show you, but if you want this one after seeing those, yes. Oh and, before I forget—“ you grabbed your phone and tossed it to Luke, “How would you feel about this car for the wedding?”

He looked at the screen and blinked a couple of times. “You’re joking.”

“Not really.”

“Let me see,” she said and took a look at the screen, then turned to you, “Whose car is this?”

You shifted your weight, “Uh- mine.”

“No it’s not, your car is outside. I know that because Luke stood there and watched it for a whole minute.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “Nolan bought twins ponies the other day and I guess while he was at it, he decided to throw in a car for me. But I’m not much of a bright red car person, I prefer mine in black. So?”

“Penny?” Luke turned to Garcia, “Please?”

She held up her hands, “I don’t care about the car, I care about the venue.”

“Yes!” Luke pumped a fist in the air and turned to you, “You sure about this?”

“It’s just there in the garage man, I’m more than happy to let you drive it whenever you want.”

Luke pulled you into a tight hug, making you let out a laugh and he pulled back when his phone started ringing.

“Sorry, it’s Emily.”

“Oh tell her I said hi!” Garcia said and he pecked her on the lips, then answered the phone and walked out of the hall.

“I’ll never get tired of being right,” you motioned at her, “Told you.”

“I know, I know…” she let out a squeal, “This is so pretty though, Y/N! I mean I knew you were good at your job, I just didn’t know you were this good.”

You fixed your hair in an exaggerated smug manner and winked at her.

“Seating chart is ready too,” you said, “Laura almost crashed it today, but…”

Her smile widened, “Aw, how are my Lulu and Daze?” she asked, “You should’ve brought them with you!”

“Trust me, we wouldn’t get anything done,” you said with a laugh, “I can’t really focus on anything else while they’re around. And you know how they get when they see you.”

She pressed a hand on her chest, “I swear, you and Reid made the cutest babies I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

You grinned at her as Luke walked into the hall again, flipping the phone in his hand.

“There’s a case,” he said almost apologetically and Garcia nodded.

“Go, I’ll handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” she said and kissed him, “I won’t decide on anything without you, I promise.”

“I fixed a pre cake tasting for you guys at this new pastry shop but she can try them first,” you told Luke and he let out a whine.

“You know, in times like these I get why Reid quit.”

“Right, because he quit over pastries,” you deadpanned and he heaved a sigh.

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Be careful!” Garcia called out and he nodded, then walked out of the hall. You threw an arm over Garcia’s shoulder, then turned to her,

“So, cake tasting?”

“God yes.”

                                                     ***

You unbuckled your seatbelt as Spencer pulled over in front of your mother’s house, then turned to you to peck you on the lips.

“See, told you we could make it.”

“We’re half an hour late,” you giggled as you ran your fingertips over his stubble and he tilted his head.

“That’s not completely my fault.”

“Oh it isn’t?”

“You were the one who joined me in the shower,” he reminded you, and you shrugged your shoulders, playing coy.

“Still doesn’t make it my fault,” you stated, “And if my mother asks, you were—“

“Grading papers,” he finished your sentence for you and stole a kiss from you again, “Got it.”

You opened the car door, then got out of the car and climbed up the marble stairs with him until you reached the front door. You rang the doorbell and soon enough the maid opened it, the cheerful laughter and squealing reaching you. You and Spencer stepped in, and Daisy and Laura rushed to you as Spencer crouched down to hug them both.

“Finally!” your mother walked into the hallway as you pressed a kiss on top of Daisy and Laura’s heads, then straightened up to hug her, “You’re late honey!”

“Spencer was gradi—” you were cut off as Daisy came to hug your leg again, tugging at your sleeve, “Daze, baby-“

“Lulu!” she corrected you, pointing at herself and you let out a laugh, then hoisted her up.

“Aw, I’m sorry!” you said as you set her on your hip, and made your way to the dining room.

“Spencer was grading papers,” you told your mother as you entered the room and put Laura down, then she and Daisy ran to Lily who was sitting in their playground but as soon as she saw you, a smile warmed her face.

“Hi!”

“Hi there bug!”

“I’m teaching them animals, see!” she said as Daisy and Laura sat down and she opened the big book, pointing at a page.

“What is this?”

“Coo!”

“Cow, yes! What does the cow say?”

“Moo!” Daisy said before Laura could, looking up at Lily and she nodded.

“Exactly!”

“Good job!” Laura said quickly and Daisy nodded, clapping her hands together as if clapping herself. You could swear your heart melted and you smiled softly, keeping your eyes on them.

Soon enough, the dinner was ready and the nanny took the twins and Lily to the play room because they had already eaten and insisted they wanted to play there. Your mother had renovated the house around the time they were born so now they had a huge room filled with toys and games which the twins loved.

“So is everyone okay for Venice?” your mother asked as you sipped your wine, “It will be beautiful, we already made the arrangements.”

“Next month works for me,” you held up a hand, “Spencer?”

“Sure thing, it works for me too.”

“Kenz?” you asked and she bit on her lip, stealing a look at Mina and you tilted your head.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m good with next month,” Kenzie said quickly, “But um…”

“I might not be.” Mina said and your mother groaned.

“Mina, come on. Even you need a vacation.”

“It might not be the best idea at this time,” Mina said and you turned to Kenzie,

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not saying anything, it’s her news.”

“Mina?” Nolan said, “Is everything okay at work? Do you want me to make a call?”

“No no,” Mina shook her head, “It’s good- great, actually. I just didn’t want to tell you guys on the phone the other day, I was waiting for this dinner.”

You raised your brows and she entwined her fingers with Kenzie, shooting her an excited look.

“Two days ago, I was called into a meeting,” she said, “With Bradley and Paul. They…. They want me to be a partner.”

“Oh my God!” you covered your mouth, then pushed your chair back to rush to hug her. She hugged you back tight, a giddy laugh escaping from her lips.

“Honey!” your mother said, joining you “Finally!”

“You deserve it, Mina.” Nolan said, “Ditch the wine glasses everyone, we’re opening the champagne!”

“Congratulations!”

“You traitor, why didn’t you tell me?” you pointed at Kenzie who held up her hands,

“She bribed me.”

“She’s your wife!”

“Exactly, she knows what to bribe me with!” Kenzie exclaimed and you went to sit beside Spencer, still smiling as your mother took her seat as well.

“Did you know?” you turned to Spencer and he shrugged, grinning.

“I knew they were hiding something.”

Kenzie gasped, “Spencer!”

“I’m sorry Kenz but you have a terrible poker face.”

“He does have a point, babe.” Mina said as Kenzie pouted.

“Whatever.”

“So,” Spencer cleared his throat and turned to your mother and Nolan, “Speaking of people with terrible poker faces and something to say…”

You sat up straighter, “Wait, what is happening?”

“What is he talking about?”

“Spencer?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Spencer said, a look of mischief crossing his face, “They might, though.”

Your mother tilted her head, “When did you notice?”

“When I walked in.”

“Told you,” Nolan said, and your mother smiled slightly, pointing at Spencer.

“You, young man, are dangerous around announcements.”

“What is it with everyone betraying me tonight?” you asked, looking between them, “What’s going on?”

“So, Mina isn’t the only one who didn’t want to give big news over the phone,” your mother said as Nolan held her hand and squeezed it, and it dawned on you.

“Wait a minute…”

Your mother let out a laugh and held up her hand so that you could see the huge diamond ring on her finger, “We’re getting married!”

Instantly, there was an uproar. Spencer cheered while Kenzie let out a small scream, Mina lunged out of her seat to rush to them and you gawked at them, your jaw hanging.

“Jesus Christ,” you said as you made your way to your mother while one of the maids brought the champagne and your mother squealed like an excited girl and pulled you into a hug, making you laugh.

“Congratulations, you crazy kids,” you said as you pulled back “You deserve to be happy. And you-“ you pointed at Nolan, then smiled and hugged him, “The original deal still stands.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything different,” he pressed a kiss into your hair and grabbed the champagne before he opened it with a loud pop, making everyone cheer. He quickly filled your glasses and you made your way to Spencer who wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.

“I wanted to ask sooner,” Nolan announced, “But you know, you two got married, and then the twins…”

“We figured we would need to find a time you weren’t as busy,” your mother pointed at you, “To plan the wedding and all.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well unfortunately, my client list is-“

“Not full!”

“Lies!” Kenzie and Spencer said at the same time and you let out a laugh, then raised your glass slightly.

“I was going to say available,” you winked at them, “I’ll send you the plans tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” your mother asked and you grinned.

“I’ve been planning your wedding for the last three years,” you said, making her gasp and Nolan laugh, “You guys seriously didn’t think I’d let someone else do it, did you?”

                                                     ***

By the time you got back home, the twins were way too sleepy. You and Spencer put them to bed as silently as possible, then you went to check the plans in your study while Spencer changed his clothes. You ran a hand through your hair and left your study to make your way to the living room before you put some music on and walked to the window to take a look outside.

The city was really beautiful at night.

“Thinking about the plans?” Spencer’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over your shoulder, then a smile warmed your face.

“Something like that,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, “You know it’s gonna be chaos, right? That wedding?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he said and caressed your hair, “You got this, though.”

“Do me a favor,” you said, “Remind me that a lot in the future, at least until we send them off to their honeymoon.”

He let out a small chuckle, but before he could say anything, you felt small footsteps coming closer and you looked around his arm to see Laura peeking around the doorframe with a look of excitement.

“We have a fugitive!” Spencer said, making her squeal and run back to the hallway.

“I’ll be right back,” Spencer pecked you on the lips, making you laugh and you watched him leave the living room, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw a mop of curly brown hair behind the couch, along with a giggle.

“Oh well, I’m sure Daisy is sleeping!” you said loudly, walking around the living room, “She wouldn’t be here, would she?”

The giggles got louder and you found yourself smiling,

“Or is she….here?” you checked behind the curtain, and put your hands on your hips, “Not behind the curtain. Hmm, I wonder where she is?”

“Hewe!” Daisy jumped from behind the kitchen, and let out a gleeful scream when you lifted her up.

“Here she is!” you said, “What are you doing up baby? It’s sleepy time.”

“Lulu hewe too!”

“And she’s going to sleep too,” you tickled her stomach to make her giggle.

“Mommy, love you!” she said and you could feel your heart skipping a beat before you smiled at her brightly.

“I love you too baby,” you kissed her cheek, “Now let’s go to bed, hm?”

“Mkay!” she said and rested her head on your shoulder as you made your way to their bedroom.

“Hey, I was wondering where she was,” Spencer whispered as you put Daisy to bed while Laura hugged her teddy bear tighter. You pressed a kiss on Daisy’s head, then went to Laura’s bed and kissed her head too.

“I love you,” you said, “Now sleepy time, okay?”

“Love you mommy!” they both said and Spencer turned their nightlights on before he switched the light off, and both of you left their room to go to the living room, where the music was still playing. Spencer went to kitchen to get two glasses of wine and you pulled the curtain a little to look outside.

“I swear they get more energetic every day.”

“It’s normal,” Spencer said, handing you your glass and you took a sip as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling to your neck. “You know your mom will make them flower girls, right?”

“You say that as if I don’t already have their dresses in mind.” You mused, making him chuckle.

“Of course you do.”

“I’m telling you, that trip to Venice will be a nice break from the future chaos,” you said, “That is if you are ready to listen to my ranting about the wedding venues on a holiday too. Are you sure you want to go there with me?”

A small smile pulled at his lips and after all this time, it still managed to make your stomach flip pleasantly,

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he said, “With or without you talking about what color the napkins will be.”

“I’m torn between ivory and pearl,” you told him “Knowing my mom, she will want to put seashell into those options and spend a month trying to decide.”

“Should be a fun month,” he said, “Do you want me to tell her the percentages of those shades used in weddings? It could help.”

You scoffed a laugh and turned around in his arms so that you could look up at him.

“What does it say about me if I said I find that incredibly romantic?”

He clicked his tongue, pretending to be deep in thought, “That you have a strange understanding of romance?”

“Maybe. But you still love me,” you tilted your head, “In fact, one could say…”

“That I have a lot of oxytocin for you,” he finished your sentence, making you giggle.

“Very romantic, professor,” you said, and heaved a sigh as his fingertips caressed over your neck.

“You know I’m so in love with you, right?” you asked him, making him smile and nod before you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck, the warmth spreading through you.

This, right here.

This was happiness.

                                         The End.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer #reid #spencer reid x you #twisted

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 1

Summary: Draco meets and accidentally falls in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP). Part 1 of a upcoming series.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, crying, panic attacks

Words: 6.4K words (I made this so longgg)

A/N: my first Draco writing !!! i am sorry ahead of time if there are any misspellings, typing with long acrylics is hard omg. ALSO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also i do not own this gif.

It was almost satirical how Draco managed to fall in love with someone at what might be, is, the lowest point in his life. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts, the dark mark burned into his left forearm, the restless mending of the vanishing cabinet, the impossible task of killing his Headmaster, the Dark Lord looming over him and his family with promises of torture and death if he didn’t follow through with the orders he was given.

Draco was an empty shell of what he used to be. The playful and mean remarks that would leave his mouth to anyone that stood in his path were gone. The devious twinkle in his eye and the smug smirk that used to grace his face almost 24/7 was reduced to a permanent scowl and red-rimmed eyes. He looked as if he had aged a rough 10 years since the last year he was at school. Everyone noticed it.

Everyone noticed the skipped meals, the lack of sleep, the empty look in his eyes, the falling behind in class. But no one dared say a thing to him. It almost seems as though people were afraid of him now more than ever. The sneer on his face and the reckless and impulsive attitude he held now was like a repellent for anyone that tried to come near. He was completely alone, whether he liked it or not and he decided to keep it that way.

That all changed a few months into the year, however, when you were rushing to DADA, your long house colored scarf getting tangled underneath your feet causing you to trip and lurch forward, dropping all your books, your wand, and crashing into, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy himself. There was a loud cracking sound as you both tumbled onto the ground, a yelp slipping past Draco’s lips as he held his hand in pain.

"Oh, Merlin,” you gasped, Draco shooting you the dirtiest glare. “Draco, I’m so sorry.”

Before he could open his mouth to tell you off and incessantly insult you into oblivion, you reached forward and took his wounded hand in yours, the softness of your hands and tender touch throwing him off guard. He watched you as you examined the damage on one of his fingers.

“It’s just a sprain,” you finalized after inspecting it for a couple seconds. Draco recoiled his hand from yours as if he had touched a hot surface. He moved to get up and you huffed out a “wait, hold on,” as you scrambled around the ground for your wand. When you felt the wood underneath your fingertips, you clutched it and jumped to your feet, gently grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco’s robe who was already trying to retreat.

“Get away,” he snarled, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Let me help,” you pleaded softly, “it’ll be quick, I promise.”

Draco looked down at you with annoyance. He was about to leave again until he felt that same tender touch from just a few moments ago. The feeling stunning him again as he looked down at his hand that was now lying palm up in yours.

“Episkey,” you drawled the wand over his injured finger, the both of you watching the swollen and purple bruise beginning to form suddenly fade away.

Draco gave you one last scowl before he snatched his hand out of yours and turned around to leave the corridor, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as he quickly walked away, his cloak floating behind him like the professor, who’s class you now realized you were very late for.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

That night, Draco lied awake staring at his ceiling he had charmed to resemble a starry night sky. His mind wandered off to think about spells he could try to help fix the vanishing cabinet and different ways he could kill Dumbledore without actually having to face him. He thought of his parents, mostly his mom, and how much he wishes he could save her and himself from this life. He thought of this school and how much he missed being an unknowing child who just did his schoolwork, played quidditch and bully the Golden Trio. He missed the two-dimensional life he used to live. Even if he used to be a complete ignorant and snobby arse, he was a happy one at that. Only now he knows that life isn’t what mummy or daddy say it is, in fact, it is so much worse.

He found his mind wandering to his uneventful day of dragging himself through his classes and failed attempts on the cabinet in the room of requirement. He then all of a sudden remembered the klutzy y/h/c girl that tripped into him and sprained his finger. He remembered how soft her touch was and how gentle she was in fixing said finger. That feeling was hard to forget. He hasn’t felt such tenderness since he doesn’t know how long. He recalled his mother’s hug before he boarded the train to Hogwarts, but that was ages ago.

In his ever growing turmoil, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in Draco’s life since he’s returned to school. The coldness he was feeling on the inside was just as apparent as it was in his surroundings. He catches himself wishing he could feel that touch again, something about you radiated warmth, and just as quick as that thought appeared, he pushed it away. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The next day, as Draco was leaving the room of requirement and into the empty corridor, he felt the familiar ache in his chest that began to flow through his body. He had made little to no progress today on the cabinet. He felt a panic attack on the horizon, his breathing becoming staggered and tears pricking his eyes. He hated it. He hated feeling so weak.

He began rushing towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, his tears blurring his vision and just like the day before, he crashed right into someone. Instinctively, he held the other person in place by their biceps so neither of them would fall. But that still didn’t stop how upon impact, the other person’s head had collided with his bottom lip. He squeezed his eyes in pain as he felt the skin break and blood quickly escaping it. When he pulled back, he focused on the figure in front of him and realized it was you. The same klutzy girl he bumped into yesterday. 

“Oh no, not again,” you frown, placing your hand on the part of your head that met Draco’s lip.

“You ought to watch where you’re going, you twit,” he snarls, stepping away from you in anger.

“It was an accident,” you responded just as harshly. You take a deep breath and throw the attitude aside. He was bleeding for Merlin’s sake and you felt bad that it was because of you. “I’m sorry, please let me heal you again,” you offer, taking a step towards him, closing up the space he had made.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he backs up, eyeing you down.

“Draco, please, just let me heal your lip and i’ll be out of your way,” you ask again, your soft and guilt ridden e/c eyes peering up at him through your lashes. Draco’s heart flutters, his anger subsiding for a second and he nods.

You step towards him once more and unexpectedly place a warm hand on his face while the other brings your wand up to his lip where it hovers. It was a non-verbal spell you used this time and he felt the pulsating pain in his lip subside to nothing. 

Even though he was healed, you both stayed in that position, your hand still on his cheek and his eyes gazing into yours. He didn’t realize it at that moment, but the pain in chest had also subsided, just a little. The tears had gone. His breathing was drastically slower.

“What’s your name?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. You gave him a small smile, your hand falling from his face and he frowns when he feels the cold on his skin from the loss of contact.

“It’s Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” you answer. “We have potions together this year, actually.”

Draco thought back to that class, now that Slughorn was teaching it he hardly paid attention, especially since he felt he was skilled in it anyways so he would let himself slip into his thoughts and let the whole period pass by in a haze. He feels as though he might have heard your name here and there, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Hm, funny, I’ve never noticed you,” he says, not intending it to sound rude but it did. He watches your face fall and he feels a slight guilt poke at him.

“Well, like I said, I’ll be out of your way now,” you mumble to him, brushing past him softly as you continued your path out of the corridor and out of his sight.

He didn’t know why, but he felt a little sad to see you go. He shook his head, shaking the thought from his mind and instead of the bathroom, he decided to go to his room, no longer feeling like he did before your little encounter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As days went on, Draco ended up paying more attention in Slughorn’s class. Not to the chubby old professor, but to you, who he shared subtle glances with throughout classes and half-hearted smiles.

You wanted nothing more than to continue talking to him. To be in his presence. He was like a magnet to you, while everyone else thought the opposite of him. Even Pansy, who usually was up his ass, distanced herself from the ghost of the boy she once obsessed over. You couldn’t lie, the small crush you harbored on Draco had only grown more and more each day. It started about three years ago, during your third year when you had seen him in the hospital wing after his run-in with Buckbeak.

You remember the sheer shock you felt when you had seen him for the first time that year. The slicked back hair was gone, he had grown several inches taller, maybe even a foot taller now that you thought about it. His voice had deepened into that haughty tone you somehow couldn’t get enough of. But just like you, many other girls noticed these changes too and began pursuing him. Something you’d never had the guts to do.

Until now.

The feelings you had been suppressing for the past 3 years had come back in overflow the second you bumped into him the other day. Even worse this time since you’ve actually had a conversation with him now and the fact that he won’t stop looking at you.

Slughorn pulled you out of your thoughts when he announced to everyone to partner up to brew the potion he had been lecturing us on all week. Draught of Peace.

“This is your chance,” your friend besides you sings to you as you looked longingly in Draco’s direction who hasn’t moved from his spot.

“No, he usually works by himself, I don’t want to bother him anymore than I have,” you sigh, slumping down in your seat.

“Y/N, you’ve been in love with him since third year,” she huffs, “besides, maybe he only works alone because no one can stand being near him.”

“Shhh, someone might hear you,” you hiss, slumping even lower into your seat. “I am not in love with him, it’s just a stupid crush,” you whisper angrily to her while she only rolls her eyes.

“Okay, well, have fun working alone,” she smirks, getting up from her seat and scurrying across the room to join another classmate. You gape at her in distress, she returns the same gesture, mocking you. She then points over to Draco and smiles, giving you an encouraging thumbs up.

You rest your head in your hand for a second, feeling the hot blush that had made its way onto your face and focused your gaze onto the table in front of you. You mentally hexed your friend, who thought it’d be a good idea if she were ditch you so you would be forced to look for another partner. Jokes on her, you’re not getting up from this seat.

‘I can’t go up to him,” you thought, ‘he probably thinks I’m some annoying creep who won’t leave him alone. I’ll just work by myself.”

Draco looks over at you, noticing the empty space beside you and the frown on your face as you pushed your Potions book to the side and sat up to get your cauldron ready. You were alone, and so was he. He fought himself on whether or not he should join you. It was a bold move, especially for him. He was used to working alone, but the longer he looked at you, the more he found himself missing the sound of your honey sweet voice and soft eyes. Before he had any more time to argue with himself about it, he gathered up all his things and walked over to the empty spot next to you.

“Do you want help?” Draco asked awkwardly, immediately regretting his decision to move. Your eyes shot up from the potion book, not expecting to see the blond next to you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Um, yes, actually, that’d be nice,” you mutter out to him, moving some stuff around on the table so that he would have space for his. You could hardly contain the deep red blush that was already on your face from intensifying at his presence. You swallowed thickly as the realization set in that your longtime crush was right beside you and even offering a helping hand. Which in Draco’s case was extremely rare, almost unheard of. Matter of fact, this is something the Slytherin Prince has never done.

He sets his bag down and his supplies and takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves so that he could get started on crushing the porcupine quills into the moonstone powder. The amount of times he has made this potion by now for himself was sad, but good in this case since he would be able to impress you with his skill.

He worked diligently and quietly and you watched as his long slender fingers worked everything with attention and precision. You were looking up at him every now and then which you now realized was a terrible idea considering you were in the middle of cutting ginger root and you weren’t exactly coordinated to begin with. You felt the sharp blade slide across your finger and a small gasp left your mouth when the pain instantly began once the first drop of blood fell.

Draco looked at you in confusion, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the blood dripping from your hand and your face contorted in pain. You ignored the looks Draco was giving you, afraid that he might be looking at you with contempt for being sloppy.

“Y/L/N, perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco suggests, now seeing that the cut was very deep as you inspected it. In fact, it was so deep he swore he could’ve seen bone.

“No, it’s fine, I can heal it,” you ignored the sharp pain and placed your hand on the table and pointed your wand at the cut with your uninjured hand. You focused on the cut and closed your eyes, letting your wand do its magic with your unspoken spell. When you opened your eyes, the cut was gone, just a small scar in its place and drying blood around it. “You see,” you smile, turning towards Draco and waving your finger, “brand new.”

“You don’t want dittany for the scarring?” Draco asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, I don’t mind them and this one is small anyways. They’re like memories to me. Some come from good experiences, some bad. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little clumsy,” you explain, a small smile on your lips.

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” he sighs, “so you’ve managed to become your own healer because of that?”

“Exactly that,” you hummed. “That’s actually what I’m studying to be. I plan on being at St. Mungo’s once we graduate. I’ve been studying for it my whole life.”

Draco was silent for a moment. He watched as you carefully threw ingredients into the cauldron and stirred them with caution. He noticed that despite your clumsiness, you handled everything you touched with a care and gentleness. It was a calming sight to him for some reason and he faintly smiled.

“I think you’d be a great healer,” he complimented quietly. You looked at him with one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen and his heart swells at the thought of it being because of him. He feels a smile mirroring yours that tries to break through, but he fights it.

“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on,” you say quietly, waiting for his reaction from the corner of his eye. Draco wants to give you a snarky remark, just to uphold his cold reputation he’s given himself since his first day back at Hogwarts, but he doesn’t.

Instead of saying anything, he just shrugged and gave you a small smile, turning his attention back to the task at hand. You do the same, choosing to enjoy the comfortable silence that had settled.

When Slughorn came by to check when you finished, he eyed you and Draco and smiled.

"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m glad you’ve finally decided to partner up with someone,” he gleamed. “Miss Y/L/N here is an excellent potions student such as yourself.”

“Yes, she is,” Draco responded, keeping his eyes trained on the professor. He didn’t want to look at you, feeling embarrassed that he has now complimented you twice in the last 20 minutes. You smiled to yourself, something you’ve been doing a lot of since the slytherin boy sat next to you.

“Well, I suppose you’ll be pleased to know the two of you have brewed an outstanding potion,” Slughorn grins, “both of you will receive perfect marks on this. You can be excused from today’s class now.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you begin gathering your things and turn towards Draco. “I’ll see you next class? Or maybe somewhere around the castle when I accidentally bump into you.”

Draco chuckles and shakes his head, “perhaps. I’ll see you soon, Y/L/N.”

With that, he strides out of the class, you staring at the back of his platinum blond head with a stupid smile on your face.

“You’re welcome,” your friend suddenly appeared next to you, playfully slapping your arm. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Draco look so... calm.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Weeks had gone by, and several Potions classes. The seat beside you now belonged to Draco and the two of you had in a sense, become friends. Or acquaintances. You couldn’t quite say. 

He was still brooding and mostly kept to himself, but he would converse with you here and there about things, almost always school. The two of you continuously getting outstanding marks on everything you produced much to Slughorn’s delight.

Sometimes he would come to class looking disheveled or angry and those were the days where no matter how much you tried to talk to him to at least maybe get his mind off things, he would ignore you. Wouldn’t even look at you. You couldn’t deny how it had hurt your feelings, but you would brush off the hurt and remind yourself that it wasn’t personal. He was obviously going through something, you didn’t know what, but you had to respect that sometimes he just didn’t want to talk. That was hard. Especially because you just wanted to hear his voice or see him give you that rare smile when you would say something he found amusing or you would accidentally drop something off the table with your elbows or knocked over with your hands. 

You were rounding a corridor when you saw the flash of blond zoom past you. He didn’t see you, but you saw the pointed look in his eyes and the tears that were pooling in the stormy gray eyes that you adored. You mentally fought yourself on whether or not you should follow him, he looked so upset and all you wanted to do was give him a peace of mind. So you followed him, all through two corridors until he disappeared into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Your heart broke at the sobs that filled the bathroom. They were full of pain and despair. The sound of his rapid breathing mixed in with his cries was more than enough to let you know that he was having a panic attack. You pushed open the door slightly to see him hunched over a sink, his robe discarded on the ground along with his vest and tie leaving him in only a white long sleeved dress shirt. 

You wanted to run in and help, but stayed back, realizing that this was something that was extremely personal. You knew he would be livid if you or anyone saw him like this, so broken and emotional. You were about to leave, all of a sudden feeling very ashamed for even following him in here. You watched as he looked up into the mirror, an anger flashing in his eyes as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. Not yours, but his. All he could see was a monster staring back at him. A failure. A weak man. He was disgusted and angry with what he saw and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled his fist back and you watched it collide with the middle of the mirror where he had been. The glass shattered upon impact, the shards now flying in all different directions and embedding into his knuckles. He fell to the ground on his knees, in pain and clutching his fist as his cries only got louder. 

That was when you threw open the door, rushing in to help him, not caring that you were going to have to put up a fight in order to even get near him. Draco’s eyes shot up to meet yours, and just like you thought, he was beyond pissed to see you. 

Draco has never felt such humiliation in his life. The beautiful and kind y/h girl he had acquainted himself with, was now looking at him with pity. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, pointing it at you with such quickness that you faltered in your steps.

“Get. Out!” He yelled, his wand shaking violently in his uninjured hand. He would never hex you, but he figured you would fall for his bluff and leave. But you didn’t. You only sat yourself down a few feet away from him and felt your own tears begin to fall. “Y/L/N, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t leave, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you challenged. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he sneered, his wand still pointed at you.

“You’re bleeding, a lot, Draco,” you point to his bloodied hand that curled to his chest. “You know I can save you a trip to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’s interrogation.”

After a few moments of silence and a wand still pointed at you, you slowly scoot towards him. Your hand encloses around the one holding his wand and you lower it for him while he watches you. He was still crying and breathing heavily. His panic attack somehow getting worse now and no longer having the energy to fight you. You finally reach him, now knee to knee with him and you place a hand on his shoulder.

“Draco, just breath with me,” you say calmly. “In,” you took a long exaggerated inhale, and after a few seconds, “out,” and let out an equally exaggerated exhale. You did that with him for a while, his pained gray eyes focused on yours the whole time, never breaking eye contact. Once he was calmed down enough and was just left with the post crying hiccoughs, you took his injured hand in yours. There was shards and particles of glass stuck in his reddened and bloody skin.

You reached into your robe pocket and pulled out a set of tweezers you kept with you. You often found yourself getting splinters or tiny rocks stuck in your skin when your hands hit the pavement when you’d fall you try and catch yourself.

“This might hurt,” you warn, starting to remove one of the biggest pieces. He sharply inhales as you try your best to do take it out carefully.

It was quiet the rest of the process, just sniffles and gasps from Draco when you had removed a piece that especially hurt. When you were done, you waved your wand over the gashes and watched as they faded into faint pink scars. You got up, pulling him with you and took him to the sink where you rinsed off the blood from both your hands and his. 

He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what. He just stared at you, dumbfounded and confused. You turned your body to face his and he did the same, eyeing you carefully and still very cautious to any move you made.

“I can leave now, if you’d like me to,” you offer quietly. He stayed silent, wondering if he should just send you off. But he didn’t want to. You had already seen him at his worst, and he was terribly alone, so he just shook his head ‘no.’ You looked up at him and decided to risk it all. “Can I give you a hug?”

Draco was stunned at the question, his heart pounding against his chest. “I suppose,” he managed to let out in a strained voice.

You slowly stepped closer to him and slid your arms up his biceps until your hands met behind his neck. You stood on your tippy toes and pulled him into you, his chin now resting on your shoulder as your hand smoothed the back of his head. You felt him stiff under your touch and as he got comfortable in your embrace, his arms raised from his sides and snaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, and he held you tightly, not wanting to let go.

This was the first time in a long time that he had felt any type of relief. It had been such a constant uphill battle for him, day after day. He took a deep inhale accidentally, but the smell of your perfume and shampoo filling his nose and his mind made him feel at ease. The warmth of your body from underneath his fingertips brought him peace and succor.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair so quietly that if you weren’t so focused on him, you would’ve missed it.

“Anytime.”

That was the day Draco Malfoy became your friend.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Potions class was no longer the only place you would see Draco. Now that the two of you were comfortable with one another and he trusted you more than anyone else, he found himself hanging out with you every day during his free time when he would be done messing with the cabinet.

It would be taking walks around the castle. Sneaking out at night and meeting behind statues to talk. Sitting together at a bench in the courtyard. Skipping stones along the Black Lake. It’s been months of this. Months of friendship he so desperately needed. You had helped him through several more panic attacks and meltdowns, each time coming closer together. He never told you about what caused them. The worst ones were when he found he had almost killed Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, and as much as you begged him to tell you, he kept his mouth shut. 

He had spent so much time with you that it was affecting him. But for the better. He found himself eating again at the Slytherin table and his friends were more than excited to have him back. He still wasn’t too buddy-buddy with everyone as he once was, but he joined conversations and shared a couple jokes. He was even sleeping a little more. He was still beyond stressed, but it wasn’t as gut-wrenching. He enjoyed Potions again and even started paying a little more attention in his other classes. His new found energy even helped him greatly progress in mending the vanishing cabinet, finally making a breakthrough in fixing it.

He would lie awake at night sometimes and thank Merlin you crashed into his life, literally. You were like an angel to him, healing his heart with every word and smile and touch you sent his way. It was easy with you. He tried his best to keep his emotions at bay, reminding himself that when he would have to follow through with his task, he would lose you and that thought pained him to no end. But he was selfish, and he adored you with every fiber of his being so he couldn’t leave you alone. And especially not when he needed you most.

Today, you lied in the grass, shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the sky and watching the clouds. You were a little ways from the castle, away from all your other classmates and teachers and it was nice. Finally being able to enjoy time with the Slytherin Prince without people gawking at the two of you.

“My mother used to do this with me when I was a small,” Draco trailed off, his eyes following a particular funny shaped cloud. “She would take me out to the garden behind the Manor, usually when father was doing some work at the ministry. But we would sit against this tall oak tree and I’d be on her lap and she’d have her arms wrapped around me and she would point out the funniest shaped clouds and try to pinpoint what they resemble. Sometimes she’d even joke around and say the weirdest shaped cloud looked like father.”

You giggled at that last part, your heart swelling at the story. He rarely talked about his family, but when he did, it would always be of his mother and a happy memory he had with her, never his father.

“Draco, can I ask you something?” you turn onto your side, your elbow holding you up as you gazed down at him.

“What do you wanna know, darling?” you blushed at the nickname but brushed it aside, knowing he only meant it in a friendly way.

“Forgive me if it’s rude, you don’t have to answer,” you begin, “but do you miss your father? I know it’s none of my business and I’m so sorry the Daily Prophet put your family business on blast like that. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

Draco frowned and followed you in turning onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow to face you. You remembered the image of Draco and his mother on the newspaper, bright lights flashing across their faces as all the press tried to get picture of them after the sentencing of Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban. You remembered seeing Draco look so sad, yet strong beside his mother as he looked from her and then into the camera with disdain. 

“Sometimes, I do,” he answers, eyebrows furrowed as he thought of his father. “My whole life, he’s expected nothing short of perfection from me. There were no room for mistakes, and if I made any, I would be punished for them. I remember coming to Hogwarts was like an escape, a place where I could finally sort of relax and be a child. I don’t miss his scolding or his coldness. But I miss having a father, I miss going home on that first day of summer and seeing both my parents even if he was going to reprimand me for something later on in the day. He’s been with me my whole life, and now he’s gone, stuck in a cell in Azkaban. He’s never going to be the same. Home is never going to be the same.”

You felt tears prick your eyes as you listened to the boy beside you, a distant look in his eyes as he turned back over on his back to look at the sky in the middle of his explanation. You sat up and he did the same, looking at you with a frown when he noticed you were about to cry. You took your hand in his and held it tightly.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you mumble. “You don’t deserve any of the bad things you’ve been through.”

“I do,” he shrugs. “I’ve been a real git since I’ve been at Hogwarts, you know.”

“You’re different now,” you say. “Sure, you still haven’t lost a little bit of the Malfoy snobbishness and you’re still a bit of a git, but you’re kinder and more gentle. You’re a lot more empathetic and perceptive. I mean, I’ve never spoken to you prior to this year, but your reputation follows and the Draco in front of me doesn’t seem anything like the Draco you were.”

“How you’ve managed to insult me while complimenting me is something I’ve never seen anyone be able to do successfully is astonishing,” he laughs, a smile growing on his face as you laughed with him.

“I’m serious, Dray,” you giggle, “I think you’re a good person.”

“I’m not good,” he thinks to himself. The compliment leaving your lips made him feel foul. He didn’t deserve to have such a kind soul complimenting him to be something he’d never amount to. He frowned and harshly stood up, and you quickly followed. Suddenly afraid that you might have overstepped your boundaries.

“Where are you going?” You ask, fear trembling in your voice. He begins to hurriedly walk off and you chase after him, stopping in front of him so you could place your hands on his chest to stop him. 

“Y/N, let me go,” he pleads. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“I think I’ve been around you long enough to know who you are.”

“Not long enough.”

You stare up at him, but he refuses to look at you. His body feels rigid under your touch and it pains you to see him beginning to shut down again.

“I know something has been bothering you this year, and I know it’s not just because of what happened with your father,” you start. “I don’t know what is hurting you so deeply enough to make you hate yourself, but I’m here to tell you that whatever that thing is, it doesn’t define you.”

Draco swallows thickly, the tears already falling down his cheeks. “It does, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you cry with him. “Even if you don’t see your goodness, I do.”

Both you and Draco are crying, the tree you were now standing under was swaying violently in the wind, as if it was picking up on your guys’ emotions. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m not good,” he whispers to you, “and once you see that, you’re going to hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Draco Malfoy,” you promise, a complete sincerity in your voice that it makes his heart jump.

Draco lifts his head up and sniffles, he watched you do the same, peering up at him through your wet lashes. He brought his thumb up to smooth the crease in between your eyebrows, letting it fall down to your cheeks where he wiped away the stray tears that had stilled. His hand then landed on your mouth that was pulled down in a grimace that matched his own. His thumb grazed over your lips, the softness of them nearly driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to feel them against his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you. He didn’t want to drag you into the darkness of his life more than he already has.

“Kiss me,” you said to him, so softly but it rang loud in his ears. You had seen the way he looked at you and how he seemed so focused on your lips. You knew what he was thinking because it was exactly what you were thinking. You wanted this just as badly as he did. “Kiss me.”

Every argument he had in his head vanished and suddenly he closed the small space between the two of you and gently placed his lips onto yours. It was a fluid movement, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Your hands found their way in his hair, holding him closer to you and he did the same by gripping onto your hips. His lips were soft against yours, filled with fervor and desire. He was gentle with you, but you could still feel the deepness of his kiss and how it intensified with each second. He had put all his emotions into it, his care, his appreciation, his want, his sadness, his grief, his love.

When he pulled away and the two of you stood there staring at each other with love stricken eyes, he realized he had made a grave mistake.

He realized he was in love with you. He realized that he would never be able to let you go, and you would never let him go. And he knew that with the direction his life was going in, one way or another, you would get hurt and he would lose you, maybe even to death itself.

So in that moment he knew. As much as he loved you and wanted more than anything to be with you, he couldn’t put you in that position where you would be staring evil and death in the face. He wouldn’t tarnish your beautiful soul like that.

“I have to go,” he breathed out. “Please, leave me alone. For good.”

And with that he turned away, leaving you standing under the tree with tears falling down your face, a sob escaping your throat and the sound of your knees hitting the grass below you. He held back his own cries and walked faster away from you, knowing you had finally done damage to yourself that you couldn’t heal, and it was all his fault.

PART 2

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy series #draco malfoy x female reader #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter