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edenesth · 2 months

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TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [2]

Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"Go home, hyung, and think carefully about what I've said," Yunho insisted, ushering the dressmaker out of his clinic, "I really can't talk right now; I need to close up."

As Hongjoong made his way back to his shop, an internal struggle ensued between his mind and heart. His mind urged him to proceed with the job, reminding him he had no reason to be so troubled. Yet, his heart protested, insisting that it wasn't right. By going along with this, he would be complicit in someone's unhappiness.

Various scenarios played out in his mind as he imagined the aftermath of the makeover he was about to undertake. There was no doubt that you would attract attention from all directions, which wasn't the issue. He could picture potential suitors vying for your hand, but the thought unsettled him for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.

By the end of the night, his rational side prevailed, leading him to choose to proceed with the job. He concluded that entrusting another dressmaker with your makeover was out of the question; after all, he was the best in all of Joseon. You said it yourself; what you liked or wanted did not matter. If you were willing to comply with your family's wishes, then who was he to object?

He chastised himself for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. Despite feeling bad for you, he reminded himself that you were simply another customer. He shouldn't allow himself to be so affected by matters that were none of his concern.

Over the next few days, he dedicated himself entirely to crafting the most exquisite hanbok. He meticulously coordinated every detail, ensuring it would meet the approval of your family. As he finalised the sketch of your ensemble, along with the hairstyle and makeup he envisioned for you, he couldn't help but notice the absence of a smile on his drawing of you. It dawned on him that he had never seen you smiling, not even once.

Although a part of him entertained the idea of coaching you to flash a killer smile, his heart twinged at the realisation that any smile he coaxed would be forced, "Snap out of it, you idiot!" he scolded himself, shaking off the unnecessary thoughts and redirecting his focus to other aspects of the design.

In the meantime, Hongjoong's name seemed to echo through your days ever since his arrival. Your family would lavish him with endless praise for his dedication to his craft, simultaneously lecturing you for not being more courteous toward him, for expecting him to seek you out without you bothering to greet him upon his arrival. If only they were aware of the cruel words he had uttered to you recently. Would they still support him so fervently? Perhaps they would side with him and reprimand you even further for not showing him enough appreciation.

"My dear, why not try being a bit more hospitable today and give Mr. Kim a little tour during his visit, hm?" your mother suggested during breakfast, her tone tinged with exasperation, "It's hard to believe he's already been here twice and has only seen the library and your quarters. Take him around the gardens, at least, will you?"

You pursed your lips, feeling a hint of irritation rising within you, though you didn't show it, "But mother, he's here to work. He's not a guest. Why should we extend such hospitality to him?" you muttered, taking another bite of your food.

Haeun scoffed in response, "Are you even listening to yourself? Mr. Kim is doing you a huge favour. He even closed his shop just to come here for you. The least you could do is show him some courtesy," your father and brother instantly agreeing with her.

Feeling frustrated, you decided to keep your mouth shut, realising that nothing you said would ever satisfy your family when they teamed up against you to highlight your supposed shortcomings.

This is dumb, he's getting paid anyway.

"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Baek! How kind of you to finally greet me and offer to take me on a tour!" the dressmaker exclaimed with raised brows as he was met with your blank stare while you stood waiting by the entrance of your family estate.

Shaking your head, you gestured for him to follow you, "Trust me, Mr. Kim, it's not my idea, and I dread this as much as you do. Please endure it for a bit for the sake of pleasing my family."

He blinked, trying not to let your bluntness affect him. He should know better than to be surprised by your straightforwardness by now. Nodding quickly, he rushed to catch up to you, already several steps ahead, apparently unconcerned whether he was following or not as you began the tour, "Right, my lady! Of course!"

Amused, he chuckled softly to himself at your bored expression as you walked past main areas like the living hall and dining hall before reaching places he recognised. Speaking in a monotone, you pointed out, "You've already seen these places. This is the library, and my quarters are just over there, but you already know that."

Turning to him, you furrowed your brows, "Is there anything funny?"

Biting his lip to suppress his laughter, he shook his head, "Not at all, Miss Baek. Please continue," he reassured, finding your reluctance somewhat endearing.

His eyes widened in wonder as you both arrived at what appeared to be a small play area for the children, "This is a mini playground my father had our servants create for his grandchildren," you explained, gesturing toward your nieces and nephews who were running around joyfully, their laughter echoing through the air. Glancing over at you, he noticed a hint of envy in your eyes, as if you longed to experience the simple happiness the children were enjoying.

After a moment, you took a deep breath and shook off the sentiment, "Well, let's move on to other areas then. I'm sure you don't have all day, Mr. Kim," you said briskly.

Without giving him a chance to reply, you headed off in another direction. He sighed before running after you again, silently cursing you for keeping him on the move. Yet, despite that, he couldn't find it in him to muster any irritation toward you. There was something about your behaviour that felt refreshing. For once, he appreciated being treated simply as another person, rather than being placed on a pedestal for all his accomplishments or appearance.

Arriving at your next location, you remarked rather sarcastically, "Of course, we can't forget the most crucial place in the entire estate, the kitchens," your voice hushed to avoid attracting attention from the busy maids for fear of disrupting their work.

Just as you were both about to leave, a burst of laughter echoed through the kitchen, accompanied by a blunt remark, "I bet the young miss will end up divorced early in her marriage, even if she miraculously finds a suitor after the makeover Mr. Kim gives her. She's an absolute nightmare! What sane man could tolerate her for long?"

Hongjoong felt his blood boil at the audacious words, growling under his breath, "How dare they—" He clenched his fists and took a step toward the door, seemingly ready to confront them.

Surprised by his reaction, you reached out and grasped his wrist, causing him to look down at your hold before meeting your gaze with a questioning expression. You sighed heavily, "Forget it, there's no point in doing whatever you intend to do. I'm already hard to like as it is, and I don't want them to dislike me even more than they already do. Let's just get out of here, Mr. Kim."

Feeling a pang in his chest, he couldn't shake off the aggravation that washed over him at the acceptance in your tone. The realisation that you were well aware of everyone's dislike towards you, yet you had resigned yourself to enduring it, stirred an unsettling mix of emotions within him. Just how long had you been suffering all this alone?

When he remained rooted in his spot, you squeezed his wrist and whispered, "Please, can we just go?"

With a defeated expression, he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, "Fine, as you wish."

As you both left the kitchen behind, his mind buzzed with unanswered questions. Why wouldn't you stand up for yourself? And why wouldn't you let him be the one to defend you? It frustrated him to no end. He couldn't comprehend how someone as strong-willed as you could endure such treatment.

The weight of your silence hung heavy in the air, leaving him feeling helpless and conflicted. He wanted to reach out, to offer some form of solace or support, but he couldn't find the right words. Instead, he walked alongside you in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of how to help you.

Glancing at him, you could easily discern his struggle to contain his annoyance. But what you couldn't understand was why he seemed more bothered by it than you, especially considering his apparent dislike toward you. Eager to move past the incident, you decided to follow your mother's suggestion and led him to the gardens.

"I hope you like flowers, Mr. Kim," you offered as you strolled among the blooms, "These are some of my mother's proudest collections, gathered from other provinces."

Relief washed over you as he appeared to be distracted, showing genuine interest as he examined some of the rare flowers not typically found in this area.

Giving him a moment alone, you scanned the area, straining to hear a faint meowing. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted a cat stranded atop a tree. Without hesitation, you rushed forward, calling out, "Don't worry, kitty! I'll rescue you!" Your hands reached for the tree branch as you searched for a secure foothold to climb.

"Ooh, this one's pretty! Where did this come from?" he pondered aloud, his brow furrowing at the lack of response. Glancing up, he did a double take upon seeing you attempting to scale a tree.

Hastening over, he halted your ascent with a firm grip on your arm, "I turn away for one second and—have you lost your mind? What in god's name do you think you're doing?!"

Clicking your tongue in frustration, you pointed to the poor little distressed animal above, "Let me go. I'm going to save the cat, whether you like it or not."

The dressmaker sighed in exasperation, slapping a palm against his forehead as he observed the determination in your eyes. With a roll of his eyes, he relented, "Ugh, fine. Step aside, I'll do it."

You huffed, conceding to his offer, and relinquished your position. As he handed you the bag containing your latest hanbok, he rolled up his sleeves, muttering to himself, "I can't believe I'm doing this," before proceeding to climb the tree with surprising agility. However, he soon realised the tree was taller than expected, and panic gripped him as he reached the top, letting out a startled yelp, "Oh my god, this tree is way taller than I thought!"

"Quit wasting time and save the cat!" you urged, frustration creeping into your voice. When he shot you a glare, you narrowed your eyes and challenged, "If you're so scared, get down here then! I'll do it!"

"No, no, no, don't you dare! What kind of man would I be to let you do it, huh? You stay put and wait down there," he insisted firmly, before reaching out tentatively for the frightened animal, "Come here, kitty. It's alright, just come to me and you'll be safe."

With bated breath, you observed as his hand shook pitifully. Slowly but surely, the animal inched closer to him, bit by bit, until it ended up snugly in his arms. A sigh of relief escaped you as he succeeded. Holding the rescued feline close to his chest, he carefully made his way back down.

As soon as he handed the cat over to you, his legs gave out, and he sank onto the ground. His face was blank, as if he were still trying to process what he had just done. The last thing he expected when coming here today was to do something like this.

Seeing his defeated posture, unlike his usual composed demeanour, you couldn't help but let a smile sneak onto your face, eventually bursting into a fit of giggles as you replayed the scene in your head. At the sound, he glanced up, captivated by the melody of your laughter. Frozen in place, his heart skipped a beat as he beheld your smile for the first time, genuine happiness lighting up your features. At that moment, he realised your beauty, wanting nothing more than to see that smile more often.

How pretty.

Since that day, both of you appeared to have grown more at ease with each other. He abandoned the formalities, as you urged, and shed the false pleasantries. Finally, he felt comfortable enough to be his true self around you, letting his unfiltered thoughts flow freely and speaking his mind without reservation. You didn't seem to mind, especially since he hadn't intended any offence with his words.

While you wouldn't go as far as calling yourselves friends, there was a comfort in each other's presence that had developed. Even in moments of silence, there was never any awkwardness, only an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that required no verbal declaration; you simply understood each other.

Over Hongjoong's recent visits, a routine had formed. You would courteously greet him at the entrance before guiding him to your quarters. There, he would assist you in trying on the hanboks he had crafted, ensuring they fit perfectly and required no further alterations. He would experiment with different makeup and hairstyles, exploring which suited you best.

After weeks of diligent work to assemble the perfect ensemble for you, today marked the culmination of his efforts—the day he would finally unveil your complete makeover. With an array of hanboks he had brought from his previous visits, they were sufficient to constitute an entirely new wardrobe for you. This was the moment your family had eagerly anticipated, the outcome they had engaged the dressmaker for. He observed you scrutinise the items he had meticulously prepared, your expression unreadable.

"Are you ready, Miss Baek?" he inquired.

You shot him a look that seemed to convey 'are you kidding me', your lips pursed, "Does it matter? Just do what you have to, Kim."

With a nod, he began with your hair and makeup, his heart quickening with every movement under the weight of your attentive gaze, fixated on his handsome features. Unbeknownst to him, you held your breath whenever he moved a little closer to perfect your eye makeup. Cursing himself, he attempted to steady his trembling hands as he moved on to your lips, "Could you please look away or close your eyes?" he requested.

"Why?" you inquired, devoid of any jest.

He sighed, "Look, it's... it's distracting, okay? I find it hard to concentrate when you're watching me so intently."

Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced and closed your eyes, "And you claim to be a professional," you remarked.

For once, he lacked the energy to retort, his heart dancing with sensations he had never experienced before. Despite having applied makeup for countless women, he had never encountered such a physical reaction. Puzzled, he struggled to understand the inexplicable effect you seemed to have on him and his poor heart.

"Everything's finished, except for putting on the hanbok," he announced, placing his tools aside before excusing himself momentarily as your maids began assisting you with one of the most elaborate hanboks he had produced. Stepping outside your quarters, he was taken aback to see your entire family assembled and waiting. Bowing respectfully, he greeted them, "Ah, you've all arrived right on time. Miss Baek is almost prepared."

Hajoon stepped forward, extending his hand to shake the dressmaker's, "With your assistance, I'm certain she'll look stunning. Thank you so much for your dedication, Mr. Kim," your parents chimed in, expressing their gratitude for his hard work.

Suddenly, the attention shifted as one of your nephews pointed towards the entrance of your room, exclaiming, "Look, a princess!" All eyes turned to catch a glimpse of you.

A chorus of gasps escaped from your family members as they beheld the sight before them. Your family was overcome with awe, your mother and sister shedding tears of joy as if you had finally fulfilled their deepest wishes. Turning around, Hongjoong's breath caught in his throat as he took in your completed transformation for the first time, mirroring the astonishment of everyone else. You appeared breathtaking, meeting society's standards of perfection and seamlessly fitting into their expectations. Yet, the absence of joy in your expression failed to bring him satisfaction.

She's not happy.

In truth, a foolish part of him clung to the hope that you might still be impressed by your transformation once you had seen your beauty, despite knowing your reservations. He harboured a fleeting expectation that your initial reluctance stemmed from never seeing yourself adorned in such finery before, and that your perspective would shift upon witnessing your present appearance. But he knew he was wrong as soon as he observed your evident discomfort, your fingers clutching the hanbok's skirt tightly, your gaze averted while your family showered you with adoration.

Confusion enveloped him at that moment. He should have felt elated that his vision had come to fruition; your family's satisfaction with his work signalled the success of his mission. However, instead of joy, remorse consumed him; your family's praises fell on deaf ears, and all he could see was the despair in your hunched shoulders.

"Mr. Kim, this is utter perfection! You've truly outdone yourself! Please join us for dinner tonight before you leave! It's the least we can do for all the work you've put in over the past few weeks!" your father invited, excitement evident in his tone.

Normally, he would reject such offers, but he realised he wasn't ready to leave you just yet. With only you in mind, Hongjoong accepted, "It would be my pleasure, Official Baek."

Seated beside you in the dining hall that night, the dressmaker did his best to engage with your family members. However, his attention kept drifting back to you, noticing your silence as you picked at your food, showing little appetite. He grew concerned seeing you repeatedly reach for the wine glass, drinking more than eating. Haeun's disapproving glare didn't escape his notice.

"That's enough, maknae. No man likes a drunkard for a wife. With your enhanced looks, you'll be attracting a suitor real soon. Now's the time for you to start training to be a proper lady," she scolded.

Hajoon chortled, "Let her. Perhaps she'll be a better wife when drunk. That version of her might be more tolerable than her usual self."

To Hongjoong's dismay, your sister and parents joined in the laughter, despite your brother-in-law and sister-in-law exchanging apologetic glances in your direction. At that moment, he lost his appetite completely as he watched you quietly enduring it all, much like when the maids made fun of you.

Before he could inquire if you were okay, your father addressed him, "Mr. Kim, we apologise on our youngest's behalf for any trouble she may have caused you. Surely, she couldn't have been easy to work with. We will compensate you nicely for all your efforts."

Wanting to use the opportunity to stand up for you, he plastered on his most professional smile and spoke, "Not at all, my lord. Miss Baek has been an absolute pleasure to work with. She's remarkably selfless, unlike many customers who approach me solely for superficial reasons. Despite her reservations about fashion, she wholeheartedly complies for her family's sake. And I deeply respect her for that. The opportunity to make her clothing is reward enough for me. I consider myself fortunate to have such a client."

His response surprised everyone, including you, with its sincerity and absence of flattery or deceit. Your mother blinked, ashamed of herself for laughing moments ago, "Oh, that's reassuring to hear. Perhaps we should give her more credit for her efforts."

The atmosphere turned slightly awkward after the dressmaker's indirect words, making it clear he disapproved of their conversation about you. It seemed as though his remarks had prompted them to reflect on their behaviour, recognising the cruelty of mocking their own family member. Despite your usual straightforwardness, they understood that you truly never meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Guilt washed over them as they realised their earlier actions had been intentional and hurtful.

Absorbing the aftermath of Hongjoong's defence of you, a surge of emotion welled up inside you. His words resonated deeply, touching a part of you that had longed for such validation. No one had ever stood up for you in such a manner, not even your own family, who were supposed to be your closest allies. To hear someone speak so kindly of you, with genuine sincerity, was a rare and precious gift.

Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. Perhaps, in that moment, he had become more than just a dressmaker to you. Maybe, without him even realising it, he had earned the title of friend.

As he gently confiscated the wine glass from your hand and replenished your bowl with food, a tiny smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His gesture felt like a moment of genuine concern that warmed your heart. Whether or not he realised it, he was showing you a level of care you hadn't experienced before, and it felt comforting to be treated with such thoughtfulness.

"Stop drinking so much and eat more, my lady. You'll be sick if you keep up like that," he lectured with a soft grin.

You wondered if this was his way of showing that he cared. Regardless, it felt nice to be looked after, to have someone pay attention to your well-being in such a simple yet meaningful way. As you took a bite of the food he had placed before you, a sense of gratitude washed over you, grateful for his unexpected kindness in a world that had often felt cold and indifferent.

After the meal, he said his farewells to your family but insisted on walking you back to your quarters before departing. Upon reaching your room entrance, you turned to him, saying, "Well, I'm here safe now. You can leave, Mr. Kim."

He scoffed lightly, "Would it hurt to have a little chat before I go?"

Taking a seat on the short staircase leading to your room, he patted the space beside him, gesturing for you to join him, "Come on. I don't know when I'll see you again after this. Let's just... talk."

Your heart felt uneasy at the reminder that today marked the grand finale, and with it over, his job here was considered done. He would have no reason to visit your family estate unless summoned. Reluctantly, you settled down beside him on the step.

Despite his desire to converse, there was a moment of silence as you both pondered what to say. The ambience was filled with the chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze as you sat side by side, your shoulders lightly touching. Mustering his courage, he finally broached the subject, "Be honest with me, Miss Baek. Do you hate my designs? I've noticed your unease since you put them on."

Gazing down at the vibrant hanbok adorning your frame, feeling the weight of the accessories on your head and the unfamiliar thickness of the makeup on your usually bare face, you let out a sigh, "I don't hate them. It's just... honestly, I don't feel worthy of such finery. They're undeniably beautiful, but they don't resonate with who I am. And if this is what it takes to attract a husband, I can't help but wonder... what good is a man who would only value me for my looks? What kind of marriage would that be? The maids had a point. Any man fooled by this appearance would likely end up divorcing me."

Frowning, he turned to you, seeing the rare display of emotion as your eyes glistened with tears, "That's not true, why would you think you're unworthy?" he questioned, genuine concern evident in his voice. Though he wanted to agree that a man like that did not deserve to be with you, he opted to address what truly mattered.

You let out a humourless chuckle, a sound that tugged at his heartstrings. It was unlike you to expose your vulnerabilities in such a manner. Perhaps it was the comfort of Hongjoong's presence or the effects of the alcohol. Or maybe it was a combination of both. You shut your eyes as your world began to spin, whispering, "I've never been good enough for anything or anyone. My parents made that abundantly clear since I was a child. Nobody has ever truly liked me, and don't pretend otherwise, I know you disliked me too. I just... I'm so tired. I want to be loved for who I am. Is that too much to ask...?"

It really isn't, my lady. I'm right here.

Your voice trailed off, a tear tracing down your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder, succumbing to exhaustion. His heart ached as he hesitated, then gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Once he was certain you were truly asleep, he carefully slid his other arm beneath your legs and carried you into your room.

The dressmaker felt as if his life hadn't been the same since taking on that job. It had been nearly a week since he last saw you, the image of your tear-stained sleeping face lingering in his mind as he tucked you into bed. A heavy weight settled in his heart as he silently bid you farewell that night, making his way home with a sense of numbness.

Every day after that felt unsettling.

The initial satisfaction he anticipated from accepting your sister's job offer eluded him. Thoughts of you consumed his mind relentlessly. He wondered about your well-being—whether you were eating properly, sleeping soundly, finding happiness. Despite his yearning to see you again, even just a glimpse to ensure you were okay, he knew he had no reason to visit the Baek estate. The job was completed, and he had received his payment in full. Alongside the surge in his reputation, he had earned widespread recognition for transforming the once pitiful youngest Miss Baek into the stunning beauty you are today.

Consequently, his business flourished. Recognising his inability to change the situation, he threw himself into his work, attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Day after day, he laboured tirelessly in his shop, his pockets filling up, yet his heart growing emptier with each passing moment.

"Huh, who would've thought this day would come? It seems someone could rob you in broad daylight, and you wouldn't even notice," the sudden familiar deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Seonghwa standing right beside his work desk, "What's up with you, Kim Hongjoong? Need a break?"

"I told you, he's been acting all weird since he completed the Baek family's job," Wooyoung chimed in, appearing behind the general.

The dressmaker blinked, "Wh-what are you two idiots doing here?"

Seonghwa scoffed, "Oh wow, is that really the way to greet your friends who care enough to come check on you?"

Flustered, Hongjoong cleared his throat and returned to work, "Why do you have to check on me? I'm doing just fine."

"Are you really? That's not what Yunho told us. It sounds like someone's finally having girl problems," the investigator retorted.

The general grinned, "You know, for someone who gives so much relationship advice, you're rather terrible with matters of the heart when it comes to yourself."

With a sigh, the dressmaker rolled his eyes, "I don't have any problems. You two should worry about yourselves instead. Haven't you heard? Taken men have more issues than single lads like myself." The two had been exceptionally insufferable ever since the younger man had also begun courting his precious Miss Han, always borderline making fun of the rest for still being single.

"Really? So you're not bothered that Miss Baek has finally found a suitor?" Wooyoung teased. At that, Hongjoong dropped the pencil in his hand, head snapping up with wide eyes, "What did you say?"

His friends exchanged knowing grins before the younger one repeated, "I said, the youngest miss of the Baek family has finally found a suitor. The eldest son of the Yoon family has asked for her hand in marriage."

The dressmaker felt his heart drop, "The Yoon family...? Aren't they the ones on the verge of bankruptcy?"

Seonghwa nodded, "That's correct. I guess they must be taking the opportunity to forge a union with the Baek family to save themselves financially. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad now that the youngest miss is finally pretty enough to marry."

"Don't you dare say that about her; she's perfect the way she was. Her appearance doesn't define her," Hongjoong growled, glowering at his friend for the first time.

Rather than reacting negatively, his friends applauded his response, the older man smirking, "Congratulations, you're in love."

"I'm not—"

Wooyoung sighed in exasperation, "Listen, it doesn't matter to us whether you think you're in love or not. But if you aren't, I suppose it wouldn't matter that today is the day the Baek and Yoon families formalise the engagement. Do what you will with that information; we have a double date to enjoy."

At that moment, he came to the realisation that what he had been feeling all along was love. Looking back, he should have recognised the signs from the very beginning; despite his irritation with you, genuine anger never surfaced. The incessant thoughts of you had been consuming every moment of his life, a clear indicator in hindsight. Yet, he couldn't fathom why he had persisted in denying it. It was evident that he wasn't fooling anyone except himself.

The dressmaker's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he watched his friends leave his shop, "W-wait!" he called out, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the help."

With a playful wink, the general teased, "Atta boy, go get your girl. I'm looking forward to making it a triple date next time."

God, I sure hope she feels the same.

Meanwhile, you wandered through the gardens of your estate, accompanied by Byungho, the eldest son of the Yoon family and your soon-to-be fiancé, a sense of unease lingered within you. The suddenness of his proposal, along with his family's involvement, left you in a state of shock. While you had anticipated attracting suitors after your makeover, you hadn't expected everything to unfold in less than a week. Despite Byungho's outward appearance of kindness, you didn't know how to feel about spending the rest of your life with him.

Besides, you weren't entirely clueless.

You'd heard all the rumours circulating about his family's financial troubles, stemming from a failed business venture that had left them on the brink of bankruptcy. You understood that his proposal wasn't solely motivated by your newfound beauty; rather, you were seen as a solution to his family's predicament. And since he was still unmarried, it would be like killing two birds with one stone.

Even as you walked alongside the man who was supposed to be your future husband, your thoughts were consumed by a certain dressmaker. Amidst the familiar scenery of the garden, memories of your shared moments played on a loop in your mind.

Like the cat you had rescued and set free, you couldn't help but wonder about both of them—the stray animal and its saviour. Did he ever think of you, even fleetingly? The maids had recounted the events of your final night with him; how he had carried you back to your room and tucked you in with care. You regretted being influenced by alcohol, wishing you had bid him a proper farewell.

Now, you knew you would never see him again—the first person to show you genuine kindness despite a rocky start, the first to truly care, the first you had considered a friend... and perhaps more.

I miss you, Kim Hongjoong.

Little did you know, he stood just outside the entrance to your family estate, struggling to catch his breath. He pleaded with the guards stationed at the gate, conveying the urgency of his situation, "Please, I left behind a crucial tool that I need to retrieve."

"We apologise, Mr. Kim, but the Baek family is hosting important guests today, and we cannot permit entry to outsiders without a valid reason. Perhaps you could return tomorrow," the guard explained respectfully, bowing his head in apology.

As he regained his composure, a sense of desperation gripped him. He knew exactly who those guests were and the purpose of their visit. He couldn't afford to wait until tomorrow; he had to be there to stop it all now. However, he couldn't reveal the true reason to the guards, fearing it would only lead to his expulsion from the premises.

Summoning his typically fearless demeanour, he planted his hands on his hips and fixed the guard with an unamused stare, "Listen, I have a significant client waiting on her hanbok for tomorrow. If I lose her business because of this delay, will you take responsibility for my losses? I doubt your salary could cover the cost. So, soldier, are you prepared to shoulder that burden?"

The guard swallowed nervously, "I-I..."

Rolling his eyes, Hongjoong pressed on, "All I need is a moment to retrieve my belongings. What harm could my brief presence possibly cause? Do you think the guests will be bothered by a mere dressmaker dropping by to pick up his things?"

Lord forgive me for deceiving this poor man.

Finally relenting, the guard stepped aside, "I suppose you have a point, sir. My apologies."

As soon as he was out of the guard's line of sight, he moved stealthily like a spy. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and face a barrage of questions. His heart raced in his chest as he scanned every corner frantically in search of you. Inside, the living hall buzzed with activity, hosting both your family and the Yoons. However, you and the eldest Yoon son were conspicuously absent. Panic and protectiveness surged within him at the thought of you being alone with another man.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him when he discovered your quarters were vacant. The mere thought of finding you with another man in your room made his stomach churn with jealousy. Passing by the library, he was once again grateful to find it deserted. These were sacred spaces shared only between the two of you, and he refused to let anyone else intrude upon them.

Finally, a sense of calm settled over him when he spotted you in the garden with your prospective betrothed. Taking cover behind a nearby tree, he strained to eavesdrop on your conversation while contemplating his next move. Walking up to you and blurting out his feelings like a madman seemed out of the question. Not only would it be reckless, but he also had to consider what your family would think of him if he acted so impulsively.

He needed to devise a careful plan of action.

Perking up, his attention sharpened as he heard the eldest Yoon son's words to you, "My lady, we've been here for a while. Would you perhaps like to have some tea in a more... secluded spot?"

Hongjoong's blood ran cold at the suggestion, his fists tightening involuntarily until he heard your firm response, "I'm not in the mood for tea, Byungho. If you want some, feel free to go ahead and enjoy it yourself. I'll be right here." A surge of pride swelled within him at your characteristic straightforwardness.

That's my girl, you tell him.

A tense silence hung in the air before Byungho's frustration reached its boiling point, "Enough of this, I've had it with you," he burst out, "Do you honestly believe that just because you've become more attractive, you're suddenly something special? Do you know what men outside are saying about you? Sure, you finally look pretty enough to marry, but they would have considered you if only you were a couple of years younger. Take a good look at yourself in the mirror, you're old. Be grateful I'm willing to marry you. You have no right to be playing Ice Princess with me right now, you hear me?"

The dressmaker's blood boiled as he listened to Byungho's disrespectful tirade against you. Unable to contain his anger any longer, he emerged from his hiding spot and strode purposefully toward the two of you.

"Look who's talking," he interjected, his voice laced with fury, "If she's so undesirable, why the hell are you and your family here begging to have her hand in marriage?" He narrowed his eyes at the bastard, his words dripping with disdain, "Look at yourself, Yoon Byungho. You're going broke and are relying on a woman to save yourself. I don't think you should be the one to talk."

Byungho's face turned red with anger as he shot back, "Who the hell do you think you are? Wait a minute, I know you. Aren't you just a lowly dressmaker? You have no right to speak to me like that."

But Hongjoong stood his ground, undeterred by Byungho's attempts to intimidate him, "I may be a dressmaker, but at least I have the decency to respect others," he retorted, "Unlike you, who seems to think you can treat people however you please just because of your family name. Would you prefer to back off on your own, or would you like me to repeat your earlier words to Official and Lady Baek word for word? Do you reckon they'd still want such a son-in-law?"

As the tension between them escalated, you watched in shock, unsure of what to make of the confrontation unfolding before you.

You didn't know how to react when Byungho scoffed in disbelief, "Whatever, I can't stand her anyway," he said before turning to you, "And you, don't come crying to me when you can't find someone to marry."

"Oh, don't you worry, she won't," the dressmaker sneered, watching the despicable man huff and stalk off.

Still in a state of shock, you blinked rapidly, trying to process Hongjoong's sudden appearance and his unexpected action in ending your engagement so abruptly, "M-Mr. Kim...? What have you done?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, "What have I done? More like, what are you doing, woman?" he retorted.

"I haven't done anything," you fought back.

"Exactly! Were you really just going to marry that douche of a man if I hadn't shown up? Even after he said those things to you? Don't you want to be happy?" he questioned.

Massaging your temples, you struggled to understand his point, "I don't get it, Mr. Kim. What are you trying to say? You know better than anyone my happiness never mattered."

He ignored your question, "Of course, it matters! And what the hell are you wearing?!"

Confused, you looked down at the hanbok you were wearing, one of his designs, "What do you mean? This is your—"

"Only wear what you want and do what you want! Why should you be so unhappy? This is your life!" he interrupted, frustrated.

Exasperated, you sighed, "In case you haven't been paying attention, no man will ever want me if I were to—"

He cut you off, gripping your shoulders firmly as he looked into your eyes, "I do! I want to be with you, okay? Your happiness matters to me more than anything else!" he declared before bravely pulling you into his arms. He felt like he could finally breathe again when you lifted your arms to hug him back.

A week had passed since that pivotal moment, and it was remarkable how one single moment could alter the course of your life. Hongjoong's unexpected intervention had changed everything. Byungho's decision to call off the engagement had left both families in shock, particularly his own, given their desperate need for financial assistance. The bastard was more keen to preserve his reputation, fearful of the repercussions of his outburst towards you. Strangely, your family seemed somewhat relieved by the turn of events, although the reasons behind their reaction remained unclear.

Eventually, it became clear when the dressmaker approached them, seeking permission to court you. The knowing grins exchanged among your family members answered your unspoken questions.

Haeun's laughter, unexpected to both you and Hongjoong, was joined by Hajoon's, "I knew it! I knew there was something between you two! Your actions spoke volumes, Mr. Kim, especially your protectiveness towards her that night. We've been waiting for you to realise it."

Your parents nodded, "You have our blessing, Mr. Kim. So long as our youngest is happy. But ultimately, it's her consent that truly matters. You should ask her if she's willing."

The dressmaker hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached for your hand, "I did ask her..." His nerves eased when you willingly intertwined your fingers with his, "And she said yes."

And ever since that moment, he hadn't let you go for long, always claiming to miss you. Though you were too shy to admit it aloud, you felt the same. Now, as you stroll along the bustling streets of town for the first time in what feels like forever, his hand securely holding yours, he shows you around, "Come on, beautiful. There's still so much to see."

He slowed his pace, noticing the slightly overwhelmed expression on your face, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "Are you feeling alright, darling?" he asked, scanning the surroundings, wondering if you were perhaps feeling insecure due to any stares, "Is it the hanbok? I promise I'll make an even simpler version next time."

You shook your head immediately, "What? No! I like this, Joong, I really do," you said, smiling down at the simple yet elegant pastel-coloured fabric he had picked especially for you. He had replaced all the previous ones he made for you with a new batch of minimalistic hanboks you'd prefer.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he persisted, "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."

You chuckled softly, and he felt a flutter in his chest at the sight of your beautiful smile, "Of course, you know I can't lie to save my life."

His laughter echoed with realisation, "That's true, how could I forget?"

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you leaned your head against his shoulder, your favourite spot, "I was just thinking..."

"About what?"

You blushed, "About us."

As you reached a serene little bridge spanning over a gentle river, you both paused to admire the tranquil scene below, leaning against the ledge side by side, "What about us?" he asked.

Turning to meet his gaze, you softened, "I just find it amusing how we ended up like this, together. I recall how much you couldn't stand me when we first met, and I thought I'd never see you again once the makeover was done. Yet... here you are."

He grinned warmly, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, "Here I am, my darling. I was an idiot then, but I have no intention of ever leaving your side again."

Your heart brimmed with joy, a sensation you never thought you'd have the pleasure of experiencing. Similarly, Hongjoong felt a sense of pride as he observed you gradually opening up, becoming more at ease in expressing your emotions around him. He was proud of the progress you had made.

Caught up in the moment, he summoned the courage to finally kiss you. Truth be told, he had been searching for the right moment to share your first kiss but wanted to respect your boundaries. He knew you must have been new to all this, and to be fair, he wasn't much more experienced than you. While he had seen many couples throughout his life and displays of affection were nothing new to him, he lacked firsthand experience. He often wondered when would be the right time to take such a step.

Sensing his gaze fixed on your lips, your breath caught in your throat. Was the moment finally here? Were you about to share your first kiss? You closed your eyes instinctively as he leaned in, taking it as his cue to press his lips against yours.

Here goes nothing.

As your lips met, a rush of euphoria swept through him when he felt you kissing him back softly, enjoying the sensation of your lips on his. Slowly pulling back, you both broke into shy smiles, "That felt nice," he said, and you nodded in agreement, "It really did." Just as he leaned down again, intent on kissing you once more, you were both snapped out of your trance by the sound of a child yelling for help.

Reaching for his hand, you immediately pulled him towards the source of the commotion, only to find a little girl pointing to the top of a tree, "Help, please, somebody help my poor little kitty!"

You couldn't help but burst into giggles at the familiar scene as Hongjoong shook his head, "Nope, absolutely not. Someone else can help her," Pouting, you tugged at his arm, "Please, Joong? We have to help the poor thing! I'll give you a kiss when you do."

His jaw dropped before determination filled his being, "You know what? Deal. You best not go back on your words, woman."

Rolling up his sleeves, he approached the tree with a shake of his head in disbelief, "Goodness, the things I do for her," he muttered. But as he glanced back and saw the beautiful smile on your face, he realised he would be willing to save a thousand, no—a million more cats if that's what it takes to make you smile like that every day.

Anything to make you happy, darling.

If you haven't already read the first bonus chapter of TWTHH, please do so soon! I'll be working on the second bonus chapter after this hehe also, I hope you're all excited for Yunho's spinoff next!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #the way to this heart #stitched hearts #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #historical au #joseon era #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez fic

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newobsessionweekly · 1 month

Text

Rays of hope

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x wife!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Your son is kidnapped and you and your husband, Tim, do everything you can to get him back.

ANGST | Hurt to comfort

Requested: Yes - here

Warnings: Kidnapping, kid being held hostage, description of being shot, injuries, losing consciousness.

A/N: I LOVE WRITING ANGST. I've worked so hard on this one and I absolutely love how it turned out. I won't say anything else, I'll let you enjoy it. I have so many ideas and I seriously make it a full time job writing everything.

Words: 6.1k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

As the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, the Bradford household stirred with the promise of a new day. The aroma of brewing coffee mingled with the gentle sounds of morning chatter as you and Tim bustled around the kitchen, preparing for the day ahead.

Evan, your bright-eyed three-year-old, bounced around the room with infectious energy, his laughter filling the air. Tim knelt down, scooping his son up into his strong arms, showering him with tickles and kisses.

"Hey there, little man," he chuckled, his voice infused with affection. "What adventures are you up today?"

Evan giggled gleefully, wrapping his tiny arms around his father's neck. His response was a jumble of words, excitement evident despite his struggles with forming coherent sentences. "Catch the bad guys like mommy and daddy!"

Tim chuckled, planting a gentle kiss on Evan's cheek. "That's right, buddy. Just like Mommy and Daddy" he said, his voice gentle as he tousled Evan's hair affectionately. "But first, how about some superhero breakfast?"

Tim's presence seemed to illuminate the room even more. He approached you with a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love as he enveloped you in his embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely, a comforting shield against any worries or doubts.

"Morning, baby," his voice, like a soothing melody, whispered into your ear, sending shivers of warmth down your spine. "How are my two favorite girls this morning?"

In that moment, as his hand brushed over your bump with such tender care, you felt an overwhelming rush of love and gratitude for the man standing before you. Tim's gaze lingered on you, his eyes filled with an unspoken promise of unwavering support and devotion.

"We're doing great," you replied, leaning into his embrace, savoring the feeling of being held so close.

Tim pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to convey all the love he felt. "You look absolutely radiant," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "I swear, every day you glow even more."

As Tim settled Evan into his chair, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. Tim embodied strength and tenderness in equal measure. Dressed casually, his rugged charm shone through effortlessly. With every movement, his love for you and your son was evident, his hands deftly helped Evan eat breakfast while his eyes sparkled with warmth. Watching him with Evan, you couldn't help but feel a wave of adoration for the man who filled your home with love and security.

"Uh-oh. We have a problem," you announced, your voice tinged with concern as you glanced down at your phone. "Nanny just texted me. She can't make it today."

Tim's brow furrowed slightly as he considered the situation, his mind already working on a solution. "What about your mom?" he suggested. "Can't she babysit Evan today?"

You shook your head regretfully, a sigh escaping your lips. "I don't think so. She's outside LA now," you explained, your thoughts racing to find an alternative. "Maybe your sister?"

At the mention of Genny, Tim's expression darkened slightly, "No, custody battle today," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. "We'll figure something out, baby. Don't worry."

As you and Tim exchanged worried glances, Evan piped up from his seat, his innocent voice breaking the tension in the room. "Mommy, Daddy, no worry," he declared, his eyes wide with determination. "Evan help!"

You stepped into the familiar hustle and bustle of the station and Evan's eyes widened in wonder at the sight of officers in their crisp uniforms bustling about their duties. With a gleeful tug on Tim's hand, he eagerly dashed around, taking in every detail with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Daddy, look! Cops!" Evan exclaimed, his words a jumble of excitement as he pointed at the officers. "Lots and lots!"

Tim chuckled softly, his heart swelling with pride at his son's eagerness. "That's right, buddy," he affirmed, his voice warm with affection. "This is where mommy and daddy work, with all their friends."

Your son darted around, his boundless energy matched only by his excitement, he greeted each familiar face with enthusiasm, his words a mixture of gibberish and genuine attempts at conversation.

"Hi, Lulu!" Evan exclaimed, flashing Lucy a toothy grin as he reached up to give her a high-five.

Lucy laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Hi there, little buddy! If it isn't our favourite visitor!" she replied, returning the high-five with a gentle pat on the head. "You've grown so much since the last time we saw you!"

Evan beamed at the attention, his chest swelling with pride. "I big boy!" he declared proudly, his words punctuated by a triumphant grin.

Next, Evan turned his attention to Angela, his eyes alight with recognition. "Hi, Auntie Angie!" he chirped, reaching out to tug on her sleeve.

Angela's heart melted at the endearing nickname, her smile softening as she crouched down to Evan's level. "Hey, champ," she said, ruffling his hair affectionately. "He's the spitting image of his mother." she said to Lucy, shooting you a playful wink.

Evan beamed at the praise, his chest puffing out with pride. "I grow big like Daddy!" he declared, his words filled with confidence.

Nyla and Nolan watched the exchange with fond amusement, their own smiles widening as Evan made his rounds. You watched your son with amusement, glad he's terrorising your friends and gave you and your husband a moment to catch your breath.

"Don't forget Nyla and John." Evan eagerly nodded at your words, making his way to Nyla first.

She joined in, her face breaking into a wide smile as she crouched down to Evan's level. "Hey there, buddy! You remember my name?" she extended her hand for a handshake.

Evan shook her hand vigorously, his eyes shining with excitement. "You Nyla! I Evan, I help mommy and daddy catch bad guys!" he announced proudly, his words punctuated by a giggle.

Nolan chuckled, ruffling Evan's hair affectionately. "Looks like you've got quite the little helper there, Tim," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Evan saw the opportunity for more attention and he grabbed Nolan's pants, "John, look!" he exclaimed, pointing at something only he could see.

Nolan chuckled, crouching down to Evan's level. "What am I looking at, buddy?" he asked with a grin.

Evan giggled mischievously, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You funny!" he declared, wrapping his tiny arms around the officer's neck in a spontaneous hug.

Then, in a burst of excitement, Evan's face lit up with a newfound revelation. "I meet baby sister soon!" he announced, his words tumbling out in a rush.

The officers exchanged surprised glances, their expressions shifting from amusement to shock at the unexpected news. "Baby sister?" Angela echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Congratulations!"

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the back in hearty congratulations. "Well, Bradford. Looks like you're in for double trouble," he teased, his tone affectionate yet teasing.

Amidst the chorus of well wishes and congratulations, both you and Tim couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude for the supportive community they had found within the station.

"So, what's the little guy doing here?" Angela inquired, her brow furrowed in concern.

Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair as he explained the morning's events. "Well, nanny bailed on us last minute," he admitted, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "We didn't have enough time to find someone else to watch him."

Nyla nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I can call James," she offered, already reaching for her phone. "He can take Evan with him for the day."

Meanwhile, Lucy's eyes lit up with an idea. "And Tamara's here for a school project," she added eagerly, gesturing towards the young woman across the room. "She can watch Evan in the meantime."

Tim's shoulders visibly relaxed at the offers of help, gratitude flooding his heart. "Thank you, both of you," he said sincerely, his voice filled with relief.

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, touched by the kindness and support of your colleagues. Despite the unexpected hiccup in their morning routine, you couldn't help but feel reassured knowing that you had such caring friends to rely on.

As Evan bounced around the room, his excitement palpable, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your son surrounded by so much love and warmth.

Tamara returned from the restroom and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the empty break room. Evan's toys lay abandoned on the table, but there was no sign of the energetic three-year-old. She left only for a moment, assigning Smitty to keep an eye on Evan but she couldn't find any of them.

"Evan?" she called out, her voice tinged with concern as she scanned the room frantically. "Where are you?"

Panic began to bubble up inside her as she rushed out into the hallway, calling out for Evan at the top of her lungs. "Evan!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls of the station. "Come on, kid! This isn't funny. We didn't agree to play hide and seek!"

Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced through the corridors, her eyes darting from room to room in search of any sign of the missing child. The fear gnawed at her insides, threatening to overwhelm her with its intensity.

"Y/N's gonna kill me," she murmured under her breath, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. She couldn't bear the thought of facing you and Tim with the news that your son was missing on her watch.

With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders, driving her to search even more desperately for Evan. She prayed with all her might that he was safe and sound, waiting to be found somewhere within the station.

Tamara's heart raced as she rushed to Angela's desk, her hands trembling with fear. Her eyes widened at the sight of Tamara's panicked expression, immediately sensing that something was terribly wrong.

"What happened?" Angela asked, her voice filled with concern as she reached out to steady Tamara.

"It's Evan," Tamara blurted out, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I don't know what happened. He—uh, he's not in the break room. I can't find him."

Panic surged through Tamara's veins, threatening to overwhelm her as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gripped her heart, knowing that Evan was missing and she was responsible for his safety.

Angela's eyes widened in alarm as she grasped the gravity of the situation. "Okay, okay, let's stay calm," she reassured, though her own heart raced with fear. "Let's go to talk to Grey."

Together, they hurried to Sergeant Grey's office, their steps quickening with each passing moment. Angela explained the situation to the sergeant, her voice urgent as she described Evan's disappearance. He wasted no time in springing into action, dispatching officers to search the station up and down and the surrounding area for any sign of Evan.

Returning to Angela's desk, they accessed the security cameras from the station, their hands shaking as they scrolled through the footage. With bated breath, they watched as a figure dressed in black approached Evan in the break room, his face obscured from view.

As they watched in horror, the figure took Evan's hand and led him out of the station through the front door, disappearing into the bustling city beyond.

Angela's stomach churned with dread as she exchanged a horrified glance with Tamara. "We have to find him," she said, her voice trembling with urgency.

You and your rookie arrived as backup for Tim and the day seemed like any other—filled with the usual hustle and bustle of police work and the consuming thoughts about your son now more than ever. It wasn't about that you didn't trust Tamara or James, it was more the fact that your son was in a not so familiar place.

When Sergeant Grey's voice cut through the radio, your maternal instincts kicked in, suddenly feeling something was not right.

"7-Adam-19, 7-Adam-100, please return to the station," he commanded, his voice terse and filled with an unspoken sense of dread.

Immediately, you and your husband exchanged a look of concern, your hearts pounding in your chests as you hastily wrapped up the call. Questions swirled in your minds, but you could sense the urgency in Wade's voice, driving you to act without hesitation.

Rushing towards the station, your thoughts were racing with a million terrifying possibilities. The atmosphere was charged with tension, officers scurrying about with grim expressions etched upon their faces. You and Tim shared a look of mutual fear, your hearts pounding in your chests as you braced yourselves for the worst.

"What happened? Where's Evan?" your voice trembled with fear as you approached Sergeant Grey, your eyes searching desperately for any sign of reassurance.

Grey's expression was grave as he met your gaze, his own eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. "Please sit down," he urged gently.

But Tim couldn't bring himself to comply, his chest tight with anxiety and dread. "Don't do that," he interjected. "Just tell us what happened."

Sergeant Grey sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the news he had to deliver. "Fine," he relented. "Evan's been kidnapped. We're waiting for the security footage of all cameras around the station, but Detective Lopez might have a lead."

The words hit you and Tim like a sledgehammer, leaving you reeling with disbelief and anguish. Your sweet, innocent son had been taken from you, and you both were powerless.

The weight of the situation settles over you like a suffocating blanket, "Thompson" the name escapes your lips in a whisper, heavy with the burden of past encounters with the man.

Memories flood your mind—the chilling threats, the sinister promises of retribution, the menacing glint in his eyes as he swore vengeance upon you and your loved ones.

Tim's expression darkens with a mix of anger and concern, his mind racing as he processes the implications of Thompson's involvement. "I didn't know he got out," he admits, his voice tight with frustration and worry.

Your eyes fill with tears, heart aching with the unbearable fear of the unknown as you grasp your husband's hand tightly. "We gotta find him, Tim. We need to find Evan," you plead, voice trembling with desperation.

Tim's jaw clenches with resolve as he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. "We will, baby," he vows, his voice a steady reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

He holds you even tighter, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the chaos that surrounds you. With gentle strokes of his hand along your back, he tries to soothe the trembling of your body, his touch conveying more comfort than words ever could.

A wave of despair washed over you both as you sank into nearby chairs, minds racing with a whirlwind of emotions. In that moment, your world shattered into a million jagged pieces, leaving behind only a gaping void where your son's laughter once filled the air. Both of you were consumed by a sense of helplessness and grief, your hearts heavy with the unbearable weight of uncertainty.

Tim feels your trembling body in his arms, he knows that mere words can never be enough to ease the crushing weight of your fear. With gentle fingers, he brushes away the tears that stain your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting. Each stroke is a promise—a promise that he will do everything in his power to bring your son home safe and sound.

In the depths of his heart, Tim feels a surge of pain and helplessness, knowing that you, his wife, are bearing the weight of your son's disappearance with every fiber of your being. His own worries and fears are pushed aside as he focuses solely on providing comfort and strength to the one he loves most in the world.

Tamara rushes to your side, her usually composed attitude shattered by panic and guilt. Her face is pale, her hands shaking as she struggles to find the words to express her guilt.

"Y/N, Tim... I'm so sorry," she stammers, her voice quivering with emotion. "I was only gone for a minute, I left Smitty with him. I... I don't know what happened. When I got back, he—uh, he was gone. I'm so sorry."

Your heart breaks for Tamara, knowing the weight of guilt she must be carrying on her shoulders. Despite your own anguish, you reach out to embrace her, offering comfort and solace in the midst of the chaos.

"It's not your fault, Tamara," you reassure her, voice filled with compassion and understanding. "It's okay. We'll find him."

The tension in the room reaches a fever pitch, Angela breaks the heavy silence with a sense of urgency in her voice. "Guys, I think I've found something," she announces, her eyes darting between Tim and you.

Tim's heart leaps with hope as he strides over to Angela's desk, you close behind. "Show us," Tim demanded, his voice tight with barely contained emotion.

Angela quickly pulled up several surveillance footage clips on her computer screen, the images grainy but unmistakable. "Look here," she pointed, her finger tracing the path of a rusty van leaving the surroundings of the station.

Tim's jaw tightened with determination as he surveyed the footage, his mind already racing with plans and strategies to track down the van and bring Evan home. "It's worth a shot," he declared.

Your heart swelled with gratitude and relief, eyes shining with tears as you leaned in closer to the screen. "We have to go after it," you insisted, voice trembling with desperation and determination.

Tim nodded in agreement, his resolve unwavering. "Alright. Let's get airship support and all the surveillance footage we can find. We need to know every move that van makes," he commanded, already reaching for his radio to issue the orders.

Before you could finalize the plans, Tim's hand shot out to stop you in your tracks, his expression wrought with concern. "You should stay behind," he insisted, his voice soft but firm, his eyes pleading for you to consider your safety.

Your heart sank at the thought of being left behind, your fear for Evan overwhelming any sense of self-preservation. "Not a chance," you declared, your voice trembling with determination. "I'm coming with you. We need all the help we can get."

Tim's gaze softened as he looked into the your eyes, his heart swelling with love and admiration, "Y/N, please. I need to know you're safe. I need you and the baby girl safe," he confessed.

Your resolve only hardened at Tim's words, determination unyielding in the face of adversity. "And what about our boy? What about Evan? I need to find him," you insisted, voice filled with desperation.

In that moment, Tim knew that there was no arguing with your determination. With a heavy sigh, he relented, his heart heavy with worry but his resolve unshaken. "Alright," he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace. "But promise me you'll stay close. I can't lose you too."

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude for Tim's understanding and support. "I promise," you vowed.

With a sense of urgency driving forward, you quickly arrived at the last location where the van was seen. The air crackled with tension as you surveyed the surroundings, the weight of the mission pressing down on you.

Tim's voice cut through the silence as he commanded the team to split up and patrol on foot, his words echoing with authority. "We need to cover every inch of this area," he instructed. "Lucy, Nolan, take east side. Nyla, Angela, cover west. We'll take north."

You nodded in silent agreement, eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. With each step you took, your hearts hammered in your chests, minds racing with a thousand terrifying possibilities.

Together, you moved cautiously towards the building, the footsteps echoing in the eerie silence of the abandoned street. Tim's hand brushed against yours, a silent gesture of reassurance as you approached the looming structure.

Around the corner, you caught sight of the van parked haphazardly in the alleyway, its doors hanging open as if inviting you inside. Tim's grip tightened on his radio, the other one squeezing your hand even tighter, as he relayed your location, his voice steady and controlled despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"7-Adam-19, we've located the van. Requesting immediate backup at the north entrance," he spoke into the radio, his words precise and urgent.

With bated breath, you entered the building, hearts pounding in your chests as you navigated through the dimly lit corridors hand in hand. Every creak of the floorboards, every flutter of movement in the shadows, sent shivers down your spines as you pressed forward, determination unwavering in the face of danger.

Your hearts stopped as you took in the sight before you— your precious son, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with fear, and the kidnapper, a sinister glint in his eyes as he held the gun to Evan's head.

Evan's small body trembling in fear as he stared up at both you and Tim with tear-filled eyes. The sight of him, helpless and vulnerable, struck a deep chord within you, igniting a firestorm of emotions that threatened to consume you whole.

The knots that bound Evan's wrists and ankles were tight and unforgiving, cutting into his delicate skin and leaving angry red marks in their wake. The sight of your son restrained like a prisoner sent a wave of nausea crashing over, your stomach churning with a mixture of anger and helplessness.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you took in the sight of your son, heart breaking with every whimper and cry that escaped his lips. It was a sight you had only imagined in your worst nightmares—a sight that would haunt you both for the rest of your days.

You attempted to approach Evan, heart pounding with desperation and fear as Thompson responded with a chilling gesture, taking off the safety of the gun and pressing it even more firmly against Evan's trembling head. You froze in your tracks as you watched in horror, helpless to do anything but stand by and pray for a miracle.

Tim maintained a facade of indifference and purpose despite the pain and anger that consumed both of you. His face was a mask of determination, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he faced down the kidnapper. Inside, however, his heart was a tornado of fear and worry, his mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios.

Your heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice grip, your breath catching in your throat as you struggled against the overwhelming urge to protect your child.

Evan's whimpering pierced through the tense silence, his small voice tinged with confusion and fear as he struggled to understand the gravity of the situation unfolding before him.

Tears streamed down your face as you reached out a trembling hand towards your son, desperate to comfort him, but Tim's firm grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks.

"We can't risk it," Tim whispered urgently as he pulled you back to his side, his eyes never leaving Evan.

Your heart felt like it was being torn apart as you watched Evan's innocent whimpering, your own fear for your son threatening to consume you whole.

"Please," Tim pleaded as he addressed Thompson, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "Let him go. We can talk about this. Just let him go."

But Thompson's face twisted with anger and resentment, his grip on the gun tightening as he protested vehemently. "You think I'm just gonna let you walk away after what you did to me?" he spat. "You think I'm just gonna let you go back to your perfect little life while I rot in prison?"

Your heart sank as Thompson's words echoed in your mind, "What do you want?" you asked, your heart breaking at the thought of what Thompson might demand. "I'll give you anything. I'll do anything, just please let him go."

His eyes narrowed with hatred as he glared at you, "I want you to suffer," he snarled, his words like daggers in the silence. "Just like I did."

You and Tim tried to talk Thompson down, your hearts pounded in your chests, every second feeling like an eternity as you desperately sought to keep the kidnapper occupied. With Lucy and Nolan slowly approaching from behind, you prayed that they would be able to disarm him before it was too late.

Nolan positioned himself strategically behind Evan, ready to act as a shield if needed, while Lucy positioned herself behind Thompson, her muscles tensed and prepared for action.

"You're making a mistake," Tim stated firmly, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with the kidnapper. "You don't want to do this. Let my son go, and we can figure this out."

Thompson's eyes narrowed, his grip on the gun tightening as he glared at Tim with undisguised hostility. "You think I'm just gonna let you walk away after what you did?" he growled.

Tim's jaw clenched with determination as he met his gaze head-on. "We made a mistake," he admitted, "But that doesn't mean you have to make things worse. Let's talk about this like rational adults."

The kidnapper's expression remained cold and unforgiving, his finger twitching on the trigger as he glared at Tim and you with a mixture of anger and resentment. "You ruined my life," he spat, his voice filled with bitterness. "Now it's time for you to pay."

Tim's heart sank as he watched Thompson's finger inch closer to the trigger, every fiber of his being screaming to protect Evan at all costs. "Listen to me," Tim urged, "This isn't the answer. Let Evan go, and we can work this through."

But Thompson's eyes burned with a fierce determination, his grip on the gun unyielding as he leveled it at Evan's head. "It's too late for that," he snarled, his voice filled with rage. "You took everything from me. Now it's time for you to suffer."

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of his hatred crushing you beneath its suffocating grip. "We're sorry," you whispered, "We didn't know..."

Thompson cut you off with a bitter laugh, his laughter echoing off the walls of the empty room. "You didn't know?" he scoffed, "You didn't know that because of you, my wife and daughter are dead?"

Tears stung your eyes as Thompson's words hit you like a punch to the gut, the guilt weighing heavy on your conscience. "We're sorry," you repeated, "We didn't mean for any of this to happen."

His expression remained cold and unforgiving, his gaze fixed on Evan with a mixture of rage and sorrow. "You think your apologies can bring them back?" he growled, his voice laced with bitterness. "You think your words mean anything to me?"

"Even if you take our son away, it won't bring your wife and daughter back," Tim interjected, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Don't make things worse for yourself. If you let him go, we won't say a word. You won't go back to prison."

His words hung heavy in the air, a plea for reason in the midst of chaos.

But Thompson's patience wore thin, his grip on the gun tightening as he grew increasingly agitated. His eyes gleamed with malice as he surveyed the scene before him, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

"Maybe you're right," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Maybe your little bastard isn't the solution. Your whore of a wife is. And pregnant with your daughter. She's perfect."

The words struck like a dagger to the heart, sending a wave of agony crashing over you. Tim's jaw clenched with barely contained fury, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure.

When the kidnapper's attention shifted towards you, pointing the gun in your direction with a menacing glare, it created a window of opportunity for Lucy and Nolan to intervene. In that harrowing moment, your heart skipped a beat as the barrel of the gun leveled towards you, but amidst the terror, a glimmer of hope flickered to life.

Lucy lunged forward, her eyes focused solely on disarming the kidnapper before he could harm Evan any further. She reached for the gun, her muscles tensing as she prepared to wrestle it from Thompson's grasp.

But in the chaos of the moment, his finger tightened on the trigger, the deafening sound of gunfire shattering the tense silence like a thunderclap. Your heart stopped as you watched in horror, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as the bullet struck its mark. Pain erupted through your body, but in the heat of the moment, the adrenaline dulled the sensation, allowing you to push through.

Every second felt like an eternity as you and Tim rushed to your son's side, the adrenaline coursing through your veins driving you forward. With trembling hands, you helped Nolan loosen the knots, your fingers fumbling in your haste to free Evan from his restraints.

As the last knot came undone, Evan let out a whimper, his tear-streaked face turning towards you and Tim with a look of desperation.

"Mommy!" he cried, his voice trembling.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces at the sound of Evan's voice, tears streaming down your face as you gathered him into your arms. "I'm here, baby," you murmured, your voice shaking with emotion. "Mommy and daddy are here. You're safe now."

Lucy pressed on, pinning the kidnapper to the ground and she swiftly secured him in handcuffs, effectively neutralizing the threat he posed.

Tim knelt down beside you and Evan, his movements were a blur of frantic yet tender gestures. With trembling hands, he pulled you both into his embrace, holding you close as if his mere touch could ward off the looming threat.

"I've got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as he pressed kisses to your foreheads. "I've got both of you. Everything's going to be okay." His words were a fervent mantra, repeated like a prayer as he desperately tried to reassure himself as much as you and Evan.

You found solace in Tim's embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. Despite the pain coursing through your body, his presence offered a sense of calm amidst the storm, grounding you in the midst of chaos. With each tender touch and whispered word,exhaustion began to overtake you, the weight of the ordeal bearing down on your weary body, sleep beckoned like a siren's call.

Your eyelids grew heavy with weariness, the pain fading into the background as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep, trusting Tim to keep you safe.

Tim's heart clenched with fear as he felt you grow limp in his arms, panic surging through him like a tidal wave. "No, no, stay with me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't you dare leave me, Y/N."

But despite his desperate pleas, unconsciousness claimed you, your body going slack against him. Evan's worried voice pierced through the fog of Tim's panic, the little boy shaking your hand with his tiny fingers. "Mommy?" he called out.

Tim's heart shattered at the sight of you lying unconscious on the ground, your face pale and peaceful in sleep. With trembling hands, he scooped Evan into his arms, shielding him from the sight of his mother's still form.

"It's okay, buddy. Mommy's just resting, that's all." Tim whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held Evan close. But inside, Tim's heart was gripped by fear, his mind racing with worry for you and your unborn baby.

Tim's shouts for help pierced through the chaos, his voice trembled with desperation, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked as he held Evan tightly in his arms. Each cry for assistance was a desperate plea, a fervent prayer for the help that he so desperately needed.

As the paramedics rushed to your side, Tim watched in horror as they whisked you away on a stretcher. Fear gnawed at his insides, a cold dread settling over him like a suffocating blanket, his chest tightened with every step they took, each moment stretching out into an eternity of agonizing uncertainty.

Angela rushed at Tim's side, and with trembling hands, he handed over Evan into her care, his voice shaking with emotion as he tried to reassure his son in the midst of his own storm.

"It's okay, champ," Tim murmured, his voice choked with tears. "Go with Aunt Angela. Daddy's going with mommy to make sure she's okay." Despite the weight of his own fears bearing down on him, Tim forced a small smile for Evan's sake.

Tim sat at your bedside, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of your hand as he watched over you. Evan was nestled against his chest, his soft snores filling the room with a comforting rhythm.

"How are you holding up, Tim?" Lucy asked, placing a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulders.

"Hanging in there." he whispered, caressing his son's hair like it was an anchor that kept his sanity at peace.

They took turns checking on you, their concern palpable in the air as Tim greeted them with a weary but grateful smile. With each visit, Tim's heart warmed by the unwavering support of his fellow officers and friends.

"Thanks for being here," he offered, his voice tinged with exhaustion but filled with appreciation. "It means a lot."

Angela's gaze softened as she placed a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulder. "We're here for you, Tim," she reassured him. "Whatever you need, just say the word."

As you began to stir, Tim's heart skipped a beat, his gaze never wavering from your face as you slowly blinked awake. "Hey there," he whispered softly, a tender smile gracing his lips as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

You returned his smile weakly, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Better, now that you're here." The weight of the past few hours pressed heavily upon you, but the sight of Tim's presence beside you brought a sense of calm that you desperately needed.

Tim's heart swelled with relief at the sound of your voice, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leaned in to press another gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm never leaving your side again," he vowed, his voice filled with conviction as he gazed into your eyes.

Evan stirred against Tim's chest, his sleepy voice calling out for you. "Mommy" he mumbled, his little arms reaching out in search of you.

Tim's heart melted at the sight of his son, his love for both you and Evan swelling within him like a tidal wave. "Shh, buddy," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing as he gently lifted Evan into his arms. "Mommy's right here."

Evan's sleepy eyes widened with delight as he caught sight of you, his face lighting up with joy. With a sleepy grin, he reached out towards you, his tiny fingers curling around your hand as Tim helped him to gently crawl onto the bed beside you.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your son, his presence bringing a sense of warmth and comfort that washed over you like a gentle wave. With Tim's steady hand guiding him, Evan nestled against your side, his sleepy gaze meeting yours with an expression of pure adoration.

"Love you, Mommy," Evan murmured, his voice filled with sleepy affection as he snuggled closer to you.

"I love you more, sweetheart," you whispered in reply as you pressed a tender kiss to Evan's forehead.

Tim's eyes glistened as he looked down at the two of you. With a tender smile, he leaned in to press a kiss to both your foreheads, his touch a silent affirmation of his love for you both.

"I love you both," Tim whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held you and Evan close, "More than anything in this world."

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hemmingshouse · 14 days

Text

you’re not my pizza / chris sturniolo

summary: chris had always felt a hatred towards you ever since you two met. little did you know that after your outburst he would finally come to his senses.

warnings: enemies to lovers (sorta?), cursing, yelling, angst, sappy!chris

pt. 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“this is what i told you all about!” you exclaimed happily as you finally found the tiktok you’d been searching for ever since you stepped foot into the sturniolo house hold. you found a tiktok trend you thought the boys would love to do and made it your mission to find the video to show them. “it’s gonna be so fuckin’ funny.”

chris was sat across from you at the kitchen island whilst matt and nick were on both sides of you. you straightened your arms so the two brothers were able to see what was going on. when you three giggled it caused chris to roll his eyes, shaking his head as he internally told himself to shut up instead of making a snarky remark about how annoying you and your unhealthy tiktok obsession were. you slid your phone towards chris with some hesitation, the guy never really checking the video your tiktok played on repeat.

“nah, i feel like we could actually nail that,” matt chuckled as he watched his younger brother, nick wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he patted your head in an agreement to matt’s statement. “chris? are you in?”

the youngest of three looked up from where he was texting away on his phone, unbothered with what you all just talked about and the way the video played on a loop right in front of him. he sighed, “if this is about that stupid tiktok idea of hers, i’m not doing it.”

nick scoffed and raised his eyebrows, “excuse you?” he started as he sat up straight, “drop that attitude motherfucker, at least she’s coming up with ideas whilst you’re sitting here doing absolutely nothing.”

it had always been easy getting along with matt and nick ever since you met them. you met nick in the local park nearby your house when he struggled to get the right angle for his new pictures and asked you to help him out. when you showed him the ones you took, he swore on his life that nobody besides you or his two brothers could take his instagram pictures.

matt showed you around the neighbourhood the first time he hung out with you after nick had told him you moved down from boston to la to persue your art career and didn’t really know anybody just yet. he drove you around, loving the way you two bonded over your love for root beers and pepperoni pizza. matt always found it fascinating to hear your stories about boston because your lives were so similar yet so different. it was crazy how you only lived in the same state and only a few blocks down the road from the sturniolo household, but never crossed paths once.

chris, on the other hand, was another story. because matt and nick took so much interest in their newest friend and tried to build up a good and healthy friendship with you, they sometimes spent less time with chris. he always declined tagging along in the beginning, being satisfied with the alone time and how quiet the house was without his two brothers, but when they started to bring you to their house he switched moods instantly.

you weren’t really sure why chris despised you as much as he did. you often let the boys be and did your own thing, yet chris was always nagging about how his brothers rarely ever spent time with him anymore. you tried to bail out of today as well as the previous time, but matt was already in your driveway to pick you up when you tried to cancel.

it was times like these where you weren’t fazed with anything chris had to say. somehow and some way, that kid always tried to get under your skin and you always let him because you were scared his brothers were going to pick his side and drop you instantly.

but this time, you’ve had enough. you narrowed your eyes at chris as he looked almost proud of himself for spitting out another nasty remark. you ticked your head to the side before speaking up. “you’ve been yapping all fucking day and running your mouth, yet you fail to come up with something that actually makes sense? or something that’s gonna benefit you and your brothers. don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

matt’s mouth dropped and nick let out a yell at your comeback, slapping his hands over his mouth as he looked back and forth between you and chris. the smirk on chris’s lips turned into a thin line, his fingers creating a dent into the pepsi can he was currently holding because of how infuriated you got him by running your mouth.

“what the fuck was that?” he spoke up, eyebrows raised cockily as he leaned forward onto the marble kitchen island. “didn’t you learn to be quiet when it’s not your turn to talk?”

nick was gonna shut his brother’s behaviour down by stepping in and getting a word in, but you shot him a quick look not to. you turned your head back to meet a cold gaze, grin dancing on chris’s lips. “didn’t you learn to say thank you when someone tries to sort out your shit? you’re a fucking asshole and quite frankly, i’m fucking done with how you’re treating me.”

you stepped down from the high bar stool and grabbed your phone off the counter from where matt placed it back in front of you after saving the tiktok video you spent ages searching for after chris didn’t take a single look at it.

“y/n..” matt spoke up quietly, grasping your hand in his when you tried to reach for your house keys. “i’m sorry he’s such a shitface. please stay?”

“he can never help but be an egocentric little shithead when he doesn’t get his way,” nick spoke up disappointingly, running a hand through his hair as he took a look at their youngest brother. “i can’t believe your pathetic ass.”

you shook your head and sent matt an apologetic smile, squeezing his hand quickly before reaching for your purse that hugh from the bar stool. “i was never gonna get through his thick skull to begin with.”

“oh look, she’s walking away from confrontation again!” chris exclaimed as he shook his head in disbelief and sat back in his chair. he earned a smack on the back of the head from nick and a middle finger and deep, disappointed sigh from matt.

“luckily for you, i won’t ever step a foot into this house when you’re in it. you fucking win, christopher. i can’t be fucked with your bullshit anymore.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it must’ve been a week and a few days since you left the sturniolo household in a rush to get to your uber before anyone noticed you were sobbing your eyes sore on the way out. matt offered to drive you home, but you didn’t want him to get into a fight with chris for choosing your side.

you hated the way chris put you down every time, the way his face would scrunch up in pure disgust whenever you’d say or do something he wasn’t a fan off. you couldn’t brush it off anymore, it had gotten too much.

you just submitted an essay for your art course and decided you’d order yourself a pizza and watch a few episodes of your favourite show to try and relax a little. his words were glued inside your brain and it was hard to not think about them, they truly broke your heart. finding comfort in your favourite food and show seemed like a good thing right now.

matt and nick profusely apologised for their brother’s behaviour. matt had told you they both wouldn’t speak to him until chris came to his senses and would apologise to you. both of you were aware that was a big thing because he despised your guts - why would he ever apologise?

nick was on another level. he had ditched every single plan he and chris made the past few days, just so his brother was able to feel what it felt like to be downgraded the way he did with you. nick’s stubbornness surely made you feel a bit better, but it made you feel a bit torn. even if chris was a major asshole to you, you didn’t want the bond he had with his brothers to get abandoned because of you.

a knock on the stoor caused you to slip out of the trance you were in. you sighed softly and put yourself together before walking towards your front door to collect your doughy pepperoni pizza.

you swung the door open and plastered the smallest smile on your face, one that immediately fell when you saw him standing in the door frame. a sigh fell from your mouth, not wanting to deal with his shit right now. “you’re not my pizza.”

chris bit the inside of his cheek, knowing you were going to get grumpy when he interrupted your peaceful evening. “uhm- no- i’m not no,” he coughed, shaking his head. “hey uhm- i felt the need to apologise.”

you narrowed your eyes, “is that because you’re actually sorry or because you want your brothers to treat you normally again?” you asked him sternly, noticing how his hands slid into the pockets of his black joggers as he rocked back and forth onto his feet.

“i acted like an asshole,” he stated with a nod, “i’ve- like always been an asshole towards you and i’m truly sorry for making you feel the way i always did,” chris spoke softly, “look y/n- we’re so similiar in too many ways and i- i don’t know, it’s just scary to think i’m replaceable.”

“have you been practicing this in the mirror or something? it’s coming out a lil’ too rehearsed,” you yold him seriously, although there was the slightest teasing hint in your voice. “what do you mean by too similar?”

chris was surprised when you stepped out of the way to let him into your apartment, clearing his throat as he took off his converse near the front door. “we share the same interests, have the same fucked up sense of humour and we always yap everyone’s ears off,” he rambled on as you lead him towards the living room, “whenever- i’m- when you’d be at our place i’d always feel a bit left out,” he scratched the back of his neck, “you’re such a fun person to be around and- i don’t know, it felt like matt and nick chose you over me sometimes. i know that’s not your fault at all now, but i took it out on you because that- fuck- that was just the easiest way to deal with it.”

his words caused your heart to break a little. the frown on his face, scrunched up eyebrows and a hurtful look in his eyes made you feel so guilty for being so unaware of this all. you sat him down on the couch, clearing your throat.

“i’m so sorry you feel that way, chris,” you spoke softly, fiddling with the ring in your middle finger, “that was never my intention to begin with. i always hung out with y’all because i found you interesting - like matt and nick always told me we’d get along so well and i find it sad we never truly got around to actually hanging out because you always brushed me off so fucking hard.”

the brunette nodded his head, “i know,” he agreed, “i now know i should’ve gotten to know you before i came to a conclusion. i feel so stupid and i’m so so sorry, i can’t begin to understand how fucked up i made you feel.”

the way he was nervously fidgeting with the material of his joggers and how he ran his hand through his hair three times in the past minute made you realise that he couldn’t be more genuine than he was right now. you made a mental note to thank matt and nick for putting some sense into him as well, but the anxious boy on your couch was now your main priority.

“it’s alright chris,” you smiled softly as you reached forward to brush your thumb across his knuckles in a hope it would calm him down slightly, “thanks for apologising and coming here to explain yourself.”

he chuckled, “matt and nick not talking to me made me think about every encounter we had and i must say - i was kinda proud of you for sticking up for yourself last week.”

it caused you to let out a laugh before chris hesitantly turned his hand so your palms lay flat against each other’s. you were able to see he was trying to figure out if what he was doing was too much or not, so you took it upon yourself to tangle your fingers together with his. “really?” you shook your head with a smile, “was about damn time i scolded at your for being a fucking dick.”

chris laughed and nodded his head in agreement, softly brushing a thumb across your knuckles as a soft rosy blush spread onto his cheeks. you figured it was because you had never been this close before - this being the first time he actually felt physical contact from you. it caused a tingle to run up your spine as chris watched your every move.

chris found it important to read your body language to know if he was crossing the line with you - this new type of friendship making him wonder if it was okay for him to grab your hand or pull you in a friendly hug. he had never found himself wondering what it would be like to be this close to you, your breath fanning his lips and his knee brushing your bare one.

“i’m happy you did,” he spoke up, voice quiet, “we wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t.”

the way your eyes were darting back and forth between his lips and his eyes made your heartbeat race faster than you could ever recall. you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt so fucking attracted to him, but chris showing his vulnerable side must have ignited something in you.

his free hand reached upwards to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, fingertips softly grazing your cheek. you leaned into his touch while keeping eye contact with him, noticing how he hesitantly started leaning in a bit more. “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hand sliding down to cup your jaw and a thumb running across your soft lips.

you let out a shaky sigh, feeling yourself get worked up with the way chris was holding your face and keeping eye contract throughout it all. it felt surreal to have him this close after all you two encountered, but it also felt extremely good to let go of the hatred you felt for him - ready to have so many other feelings towards the youngest sturniolo.

“if you want me to stop, i suggest you do it now,” he inhaled sharply, “i don’t know if i can stop after i start.”

his words caused your head to spin as his free hand now cupped the other side of your jaw, thumbs resting on your cheeks. you closed your eyes for a few seconds before you looked at him again, “i don’t want you to stop, chris.”

the way you finally called him by his nickname more than once today made him feel all giddy inside as you usually only called him christopher or the occasional motherfucker when you were pissed at him.

he quickly licked his lips as he felt your fingers curl around his wrists, nose lightly nudging yours to test the waters slightly. when he noticed your breath hitch in your throat, chris knew you wanted it as much as he did.

his lips brushed yours every so slightly, loving the way your lip balm slightly got smudged because of his actions. chris was about to deepen the kiss by fully pressing his lips to yours, but got rudely interrupted when the doorbell rang.

he let out a groan and it caused you to giggle, still holding onto his wrists. “i reckon you’re staying over for dinner then?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

do we do a smutty part two? ;)

#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic

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sisgotdemons · 1 year

Note

Is it bad I just wanna suck Joel off with the highest chance of someone coming in on us? Just like, imagine it, ugh

Birthday Boy

Pairing || Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Summary || It's his day, of course you'd treat him well today.

Word Count || 1,227

Contents & Warnings || Fluff & Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (baby, hon/honey, sweetheart, good girl), oral (male receiving), teasing, face/throat fucking, spit/saliva, cum swallowing, getting caught, established relationship, ONE spank, 2 mentions of the word Daddy (said by Joel)

Disclaimer || This is my first ever fic, I'm sorry if it's not super good. I promise whatever comes next will be better!

It was Joel's birthday and you invited Tommy over to celebrate with you and Sarah, forcing him to stay home for the day. It's not that he hated to celebrate his day, he was usually busy with work and came home late.

"How old are you again, old man" you hear from the living room, followed by a chuckle from Tommy.

"If you think 28 is old, I'm scared about what you think in 20 years, hon'," you say walking back in the living room with two bowls of popcorn, placing them on the coffee table and sitting right next to your birthday boy.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Joel says while wrapping an arm around you and placing a peck on your temple. Your relationship with Joel has been amazing for the past 2 years. When thinking back about it, you've got thank Sarah and her boldness to get her father into the dating scene. Who's daughter would slip her own dad's number to the local dinner waitress? Only in the Miller household, that's for sure.

"Movie in? What we watching again?," Tommy leans over his niece on the floor, grabbing a beer set there only a few minutes ago, Sarah replies, "Men in Black 2." as she wipes down the liquid ring caused by the beer bottle. "Learn to use a coaster next time, please"

"Ok ok, just play the damn thing. I wanna see if this is better then the original," he said before taking a swig of beer. You all sit comfortably, Tommy and Sarah huddled together on the floor and you and Joel cuddling together. You look up at him, admiring his facial features, wondering how he didn't notice his own beauty. He feels your stares and looks down at you and places his forehead against yours before placing a hand on your thigh and facing back to the screen.

There's about a quarter left of the movie now. Sarah had fallen asleep against Tommy, who's starting to feel the effects of the couple of beers. "I'm heading up, want me to take this one too?," he says looking up at the couple on the couch, "I'll tuck her in and whatever."

"Yeah that's fine Tommy, thank you," you say while smiling at the two on the floor, watching him pick up the sleeping teen, struggling for a second, then walking up the steps. Soft groans and a "Shh, it's fine, just me" can be heard faintly going up the steps.

You and Joel are left alone on the couch and the sequel playing in front of you. Placing a hand on his lap, you lean up and kiss his jaw. "Did you have a good birthday, my love?"

Joel chuckled and pulled you onto his lap, hands placed on your hips, "Of course I did, I always enjoy the quality time we spend, together as a family," he then leans forwards towards your ear whispering, "and when we're alone," followed by a playful smack on your ass.

"Uh, you nasty old man," you jokingly gasped out, lightly hitting Joel's chest. He let out a hearty laugh, both hands now on your ass, "Well this 'old man' loves you and everything you do, baby."

You place your hands on his chest, rubbing softly against the button down he wore. You sit in silence for awhile until you break it.

“Do you want me to suck your dick?”

Your words almost gave him whiplash, eyes blinking furiously as he had a confused and intriguing expression on his face.

“Right now?”

“Yeah dummy, right now.”

“Where did this come from, pretty girl?” His lips turned up in a smirk at the thought of you sucking him off right here on the couch.

“Maybe I'm just in the mood to suck your dick. So do you want me to or not?," you say smirking.

“Fuck, you know I could never resist your offer, baby.” His hand reaches up to your mouth, thumb caressing your lips, thinking about them wrapped around him, making his cock twitch. You reach down and grabbed his covered bulge and palmed him in your hand. The idea of sucking him off had his cock hardened.

“What about Sarah and Tommy, sweetheart? What if they come back down?”

“Well, you need to be my eyes and ears, old man, because I’ll be too busy with your pretty dick in my mouth.”

He groaned in anticipation when you got up and made yourself comfortable on your knees, peering up at him through your thick lashes. Quickly, you pulled his jeans and boxers down, his hard dick springing into view, making you lick your hungry lips.

His hand petting your head lovingly gave you the encouragement you needed to have at him.

You licked his tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum that was forming on it. The feeling of your tongue on him and the risk of getting caught had him groan out.

He pushed your head on his cock, becoming slightly impatient. He wanted to feel your wet and tight mouth rubbing against him. When he was in your throat, he groaned out in satisfaction, his eyes closing in bliss.

You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his cock. Your mouth and hand worked together to bring him towards the edge. You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him, watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock, making you hungry for more.

"Fuck baby, you're doing so damn good. Sucking Daddy's cock so good," he says hand gripping your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper once again.

You took him all the way to the back of your throat again, making your eyes water. The light gagging made him shiver on the spot. You pushed through the slight discomfort, wanting to make him feel as good as possible.

He fucked your mouth hard, saliva dripping down your chin with each force of his hips. “So pretty and messy for me, baby.” He was in awe as he watched you take each inch of him. He was a little over average size, yet was thick enough to make your jaw hurt in the best ways.

“Ah, fuck,” he leaned his head back while shutting his eyes tight, “I'm gonna come.”

A thrust or two more, and he was shooting his hot cum down your throat, some coming out from the sides of your mouth. You continued to bob your head on him until he was done spilling every single drop.

“Show me,” he moaned, tugging you off of his softening dick. You showed him your empty mouth, tongue stuck out with no trace left of him in your mouth.

"Such a good girl for me. Knows exactly how to treat her Daddy," he groans while taking his free hand and rubbing your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch.

"Open that pretty mouth again for me, my love." You follow his orders opening your mouth allowing him to spit in your empty cavity and without being told to, you swallow happily.

"Hey lovebirds, next time ya'll are havin' fun, invite me yeah?" You look up in the direction of the stairs, hearing the other male voice in the house chuckle. "If you don't, just keep it down next time."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us smut

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zapreportsblog · 9 months

Note

Cullens family x youngest sister! Reader

The cullens each trying to wake up their newest and youngest member in their family for her first day of Highschool.

Let’s just say reader isn’t a light sleeper😅

❝like a bear in hibernation❞

✭ pairing : cullen siblings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) is the recent adopted member of the Olympic Clan, she’s was once a Norman vampire but after having a run in with Esme she was taken under her wing and slowly adopted into the family’s traditions. Now it’s the first day of school for her and no one can seem to wake her up

✭ authors note : in this version of twilight the vampires here can sleep

✭ twilight masterlist

In the cozy Cullen household, a sense of serenity prevailed. The family had welcomed a new member into their fold, (Y/n), a former nomadic vampire who had once struggled with a dangerous addiction to human blood. But since coming under the Cullens' guidance, she had embraced their lifestyle, adopting a diet of animal blood and striving to gain control over her thirst.

Today marked a special day for (Y/n) as she prepared for her first day of school in the small town of Forks. Her siblings, each with their unique approach to waking her up, had agreed to take turns in the morning.

Alice, always the lively one, decided to be the first to rouse her new sister. She entered (Y/n)'s room with a mischievous grin, armed with a portable speaker playing loud pop music. With precision, she positioned it right by (Y/n)'s ear and cranked up the volume.

The blaring music filled the room, reverberating off the walls. Alice watched with eager anticipation, expecting (Y/n) to jolt awake at the sudden noise.

However, much to Alice's surprise, (Y/n) merely mumbled in her sleep, turning away from the source of the noise. Her eyelids remained closed, and she seemed undisturbed by the cacophony.

Alice couldn't help but giggle at (Y/n)'s resilience. It appeared that (Y/n) was not an easy sleeper to wake.

Alice exited (Y/n)'s room, a bemused expression on her face. Her attempt to wake their new sister with loud pop music had failed, leaving (Y/n) in blissful slumber. She reported back to the rest of the Cullen family, who had gathered in the hallway outside the room.

"No luck in waking her up," Alice declared with a huff, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Edward, with his telepathic abilities, chimed in, "I couldn't sense any change in her emotions when you tried to wake her, Alice."

Emmett chuckled, amused by the situation. "Well, this ought to be interesting. Who's next?"

Alice rolled her eyes playfully before suggesting, "Jasper's turn."

Jasper, always calm and composed, entered (Y/n)'s room with a sense of determination. He understood that his unique gift could be used to influence emotions, and he had a plan in mind.

Approaching (Y/n)'s bed, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder, his voice a soothing whisper. "Wake up, (Y/n). It's time to start your day."

(Y/n) stirred at his touch, but her sleep seemed unusually deep. She mumbled something unintelligible and shifted in her bed, still not fully awake.

Jasper didn't give up. He decided to use his gift, channeling feelings of excitement and energy into (Y/n)'s subconscious. It was like giving her a burst of enthusiasm, akin to the zoomies a dog might experience.

As he infused her with this vibrant energy, (Y/n)'s body reacted. She began tossing and turning in her bed, her limbs twitching as if caught in the throes of excitement. Her breathing quickened, and her features contorted into a mix of joy and restlessness.

The rest of the Cullens watched with fascination as (Y/n) remained blissfully asleep, completely oblivious to the energetic turmoil happening within her dreams.

Jasper couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight. It appeared that, even in slumber, (Y/n) was a force to be reckoned with.

After Jasper's attempt to wake (Y/n) ended with her tossing and turning in her sleep, the Cullen siblings couldn't help but be entertained by their new sister's stubborn slumber. Jasper exited her room, shaking their heads.

Jasper smirked and said, "Seems my attempt didn't work. Emmett, it's your turn."

Emmett, always up for a challenge, grinned widely. He stepped into (Y/n)'s room with an air of excitement, ready to try something different. As soon as he spotted her, he couldn't resist the urge to act like a big kid.

Emmett began bouncing on (Y/n)'s bed with the enthusiasm of a child on a trampoline. The mattress squeaked and shifted beneath his weight as he jumped up and down. He called out, "Wake up, sleepyhead! It's a brand new day!"

But all (Y/n) did in response was mumble in her sleep, her brow furrowing slightly as if she were having an unusual dream. Unbeknownst to Emmett, her powers were activated in her sleep, her telekinesis manifesting.

With a sudden burst of power, Emmett was lifted off the bed and sent flying through the air. He let out a surprised shout as he crashed through the bedroom door and slid into the living room, creating a comical scene that left the other Cullens in stitches.

Emmett groaned from his less-than-graceful landing and rubbed his head as he rose to his feet. He looked back at the closed bedroom door, shaking his head.

"Rose, your turn," he grumbled, determined to finally get their new sister out of bed.

Rosalie, determined to wake (Y/n) from her stubborn slumber, entered the room with a plan in mind. She approached the bed and, with her vampire strength, effortlessly lifted it, attempting to tilt it slightly to make (Y/n) lose her balance and fall.

However, as Rosalie exerted her strength on the bed, she quickly realized that (Y/n) was gripping the mattress tightly, refusing to budge. Her brows furrowed in surprise, but before she could react, (Y/n) activated her telekinesis once more.

With a surge of power, the bed was wrenched from Rosalie's grasp, and she was sent flying backward. Emmett, who had been waiting just outside the room, caught Rosalie with ease.

Rosalie looked back at the closed door, her irritation evident. "Tough luck," Emmett teased as he held her.

The other Cullens, who had been watching the spectacle unfold, exchanged glances. Edward, always the logical one, was their last hope. They turned to him with expectant expressions, silently asking if he could use his telepathy to wake (Y/n).

Edward chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't, actually. She puts up a mental block when she's asleep. It's like she's determined to enjoy her beauty rest."

The Cullens sighed collectively, realizing that (Y/n) was indeed a unique challenge when it came to waking her up. Her stubborn slumber was proving to be quite the puzzle, and they couldn't help but be intrigued by their new sister's extraordinary abilities, even in her sleep.

The Cullen family had exhausted their attempts to wake (Y/n) from her deep slumber. With her first day of school looming, it became clear that a more unconventional approach was needed.

Esme, always the nurturing and caring mother figure of the family, spoke up. "Well, we can't just have her miss her first day of school."

Carlisle, the family's patriarch, sighed, knowing what had to be done. "I hope it didn't have to come to this."

He informed the rest of the family of his plan, and with a determined expression, he left the house. Minutes later, he returned with a packet of human blood from his job at the local blood bank.

The Cullens watched with curiosity as Carlisle poured the human blood into a cup, the rich red liquid contrasting starkly with their usual diet of animal blood. They exchanged concerned glances but remained silent.

Carlisle ignored their inquiries and proceeded to (Y/n)'s room. He left the cup of human blood on her nightstand, hoping it would be the key to finally waking her.

Only seconds later, (Y/n) emerged from her room, cup in hand, sipping the human blood. Her eyes were bright and alert, a smile on her face as she greeted her family.

"What a nice wake-up call," she said, her tone cheerful. "But you guys wouldn't believe what I dreamt about."

The Cullens exchanged relieved glances. It seemed that the allure of human blood had successfully roused (Y/n) from her deep slumber, and she was now ready to face her first day of school with her newfound family.

As (Y/n) shared her dream with the Cullens, they couldn't help but be amused by the creative lengths they had gone to in order to wake her. It was just another extraordinary day in the life of their unique family.

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orphicrose · 3 months

Text

The co-host (Alastor x femreader)

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

I’ve written like 5 other parts so do let me know if more is wanted

—-❥-----------

“Hello and good morning listeners!” The radio in every household beamed with that familiar Louisiana accent. Brightening up their breakfast and drowning out the commotion from out in the busy streets. “Today’s broadcast is brought to you by your one and only Alastor. Of course it is! When isn’t it” he finished his sentence with a friendly chuckle.

“Today should be expecting dry weather and a muggy air! Oh what wonders this country brings us, right y/n?” he beams over to a presence that lingers next to his. “ it sure does Alastor!” The second voice replied.

”silly me! Listeners, today I am joined by my new co-host, Miss y/n l/n! Get used to that name folks, she will be involved in your morning routine as much as I am. I’m sure of it” The radio was interfered with cracks and breaks in between words. Old piece of junk, never lasted long in hell. Especially when you buy it second hand from a drug dealer. The channel was lost, y/n desperately tried to get it back but was instead surprised with the voice of Jack from Jack the Ripper of bad news. His broadcast about sharing only bad news of hell. Which was basically everything that happened.

Y/n clutched at her radio, frustrated. It was the only piece of property they owned since falling into this shit hole. What makes it worse is she remembers everything. There was no peace after dying, there was an eternity of falling and waiting. Wondering what the afterlife may bring you, wondering if heaven and hell really exist. Then comes the spiraling questions of, what if i end up in hell? No i couldn't, i lived a good life. But if i do end up in hell, i will never see my family again. What if this is the end, what if just fall forever. Then, just as you think this is your life now, you hit the floor. But there is no warm welcome of friends, happy to see you and inviting you home again. Instead, cold glances, threatening gestures and a crowd of unfamiliar faces watching you from every direction.

Y/n had used her life experience to their advantage, struggles in life made their struggles in hell easier. It was almost the same, just without the morals, and friendly faces. She managed to land a job in a club for a while, that was enough to pay for hells equivalent of a studio apartment. Pay check to pay check was the new normal, which wasn't necessarily unfamiliar. The main difference now was, no one knew her name. But not for long.

The club she worked in was like any other club, just with less shits to give and more fucked up to get. It was a strange change from a loved media presence. But you gotta do what you gotta do. Over time, though, you make friends with the regulars. Especially when you're the one pouring the drinks. This particular day was just like the rest, except for a certain, unknown and unwanted guest to be welcomed into the establishment. Y/N spent her shifts pouring drink after drink, cleaning the glasses that were downed and then pouring more drinks. Occasionally having a conversation with a customer, few of them being pleasant or remotely normal.

"Gimmie a drink love" a slurred voice yelled from the other side of the counter top, his body slumped over like he'd been shot and arms wailing about like he needed to be.

"The usual?" Y/n offered a smile, before turning her back to him to grab a glass from the counter.

"You know me" His wrinkled face made an attempt at a wink, while the rest of his body fought for him to stay vertical. The drink was in his grasp in just seconds of asking. You learn to get quick in this line of work. "Hey, y/n, you noticed that creeper staring acha?" He gestured his head towards the booth in the very corner of the bar.

"No, but then again, all of you are creepers" She turned again, trying to get back to organizing the shelves but he was persistent. "if i'm not mistaken, that is the sin of the wraith ring"

"You probably are mistaken considering you're drunk as an old pimp, Travis." The mans attention span for Y/N quickly faded, and he found himself back on the dance floor. Spilling his new drink over everyone while he popped his head up and down in the crowd. He was bound to be back soon. Music was rattling the glass counters behind the bar, making it hard to hear anyone without having to shout. So when the man from the boot appeared behind y/n, she couldn't hide the fact she was startled. His professional demeanor was a contradiction to his chilling appearance. What could only be described as a Goats skull was in place of a human face, wearing an old red top hat that was supported by a pair of curvy horns. He carried a finely carved stick, complimented with a gold crows head on the top which perfectly fit the curvature of his hand. And his eyes, were just cesspits of nothingness. Y/n was trying their best to find some sort of life in this moving entity, but it felt as if there was none. Till he spoke.

"I'm aware you have been waiting for this encounter to take place, Miss L/N" Nothing could have prepared her for the breeze that his cold tone brushed over her.

"I don't know who you are, sir" If she wasn't careful, he might be able to hear the fear building up in her throat. If her suspicions were correct, though, then it would be even harder to contain.

"Yes you do, don't play games with me. I'm not here for that, I'm here for what i am owed." He paused, tapping his long nails on the wood countertop. The only barrier separating the two of them. "Your soul belongs to me".

An upbeat tune played in the background of the radio tower, accompanied by a soft voice humming along to it. Cleaning after hours wasn't a hard job, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted more. More money of course, that was an issue during the depression, but also a name. For people to hear her talking and to be entranced and want to listen, just like how Alastor drew in so many people.

"Oh, sorry dear. I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice startled her for a brief second, before her eyes focused on the man in the doorway.

"It's ok, i didn't even notice you where there to be honest sir." She responded with a smile, continuing to sweep the floor of the confined space. "What are you doing here? I thought the tower was locked till 6am for broadcasts."

"Yes, it is. But i enjoy the solitude from time to time." he still lingered in the door way, now hesitant to come any further and ruin the newly cleaned floor. "Y/N, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I apologize, I'm usually finished sooner than this but i guess i was day dreaming" She laughed nervously under their breath. Now moving to the station to turn off the music.

"Leave it on" He stepped in the the room. "I like this song", encouraging you not to turn the music off as he sat down at the booth Infront of you. "And call me Alastor, dear, we are technically collogues."

She smiled agreeably, sitting down in the chair opposite. "Thank you, Alastor." she sighed as the seat melted into them, feeling as if they hadn't taken a break in years. There was a brief silence between the two, letting the music carry their unspoken conversation.

"Your voice" he began again, pausing while she hummed in acknowledgement. "You have a voice for radio. Your pronunciation, your tone, the way you present yourself. Is that why you got a job here?"

Their conversations lasted until the early hours of the morning. Laughing, chatting, listening and then yawning when they realized how long they had been up for. Y/n reminisced, missing the simple and easiness of Alastor's companionship. The familiarity and comfort of those times she had with him.

"your sole belongs to me" His voice echoed again, waking y/n up from their trance. Music from the club came beaming back into her head. "The running is over now. I'm calling my favor. Don't worry, you'll benefit from it, but you wont like it"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #x reader #alastor x reader #fem reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #romance #slow burn

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months

Text

Domestica - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday, you're the best gift he can ask for. Warnings: No outbreak (happy birthday bb), smut, domestic fluff, Joel's POV. A/N: This absolutely planted in my brain and I couldn't do anything until I wrote it out. Masterlist

Heavy footsteps down the stairs, the jingle of his belt as he buckles it, the sound of a metal fork clanging against a glass bowl as eggs are whisked, the sizzle of bacon frying in the pan, Sarah gently humming a tune as the the orange juice pitcher glugs. Breakfast in the Miller household every morning plays all of the familiar sounds he loves to hear.

Every morning he wakes up reaching for you, but you’re an even earlier riser than him. The side of your bed empty, the plant that used to sit half dead on the bedside table now blooming and healthy, akin to how he feels about his life ever since you entered it.

——

He wraps his arms around you as you stand at the stove flipping bacon in the pan, sneaking a kiss to your neck as Sarah’s back is turned away. “Mornin’,” he breathes against your ear loving how you instantly mold to his body.

Your body fits so perfectly against his, no matter what time of day. Innocent morning hugs while Sarah’s around, lazy evening cuddles on the couch after dinner, smoldering night time hips meeting as he enters you.

“Happy birthday,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you softly thud your head against his broad chest. “You forgot to buy pancake mix, so it’s eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

“Fine by me,” he says against your head, kissing the top of it before pulling away to pour himself a cup of coffee. He refills your empty cup without asking, adding a heaping spoonful of creamer and a sprinkle of sugar, knowing exactly how you take it.

The best present he can be given today is seeing his girls at his table, you making Sarah giggle as you tease her about the actor she has a crush on. His hand on your thigh choosing to eat one handed because you’re still wearing your sleep shorts, those same shorts he peeled off your body last night before bed.

The diamond on your finger glinting in the sunlight pouring in from the windows, he moves his hands up to it to pet the hard stone, proud of himself for finding the ring of your dreams. He remembers the tears welling in your eyes as he asked you to marry him, those same eyes he looks for in a crowd, the same eyes that brighten when they see him.

“Bear, did you remember to grab the extra pack of highlighters I had in my desk?” He loves how you have your own pet name for Sarah. He loves how you’ve stepped right into being a coparent with him, leaving him feeling like he’s no longer struggling underwater slowly being drowned by his job and trying to be the best single parent he can be. He loves that Sarah loves you as much he loves you. You’re his gift that keeps on giving.

“Yep, thank you!” she winks at you, he loves how he can instantly tell the two of you are scheming together and how bad the two of you are at playing coy.

“I gotta get ready before it’s any late,” you rise from the table. “Be good today Bear,” he’ll never tire of seeing the way his daughter smiles as you kiss the top of her forehead. He swears your influence has kept her just as sweet in her teenage years as she was as a little girl.

“I’ll be up later to say goodbye after Tommy gets here,” he says as you bend over and kiss his cheek.

——

He can hear the shower on, a song quietly playing on the shower radio that you sing along to. The mirror’s fogged up, he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash wafting through the air mixing with the steam. “Baby, I’m leaving now,” he speaks over the song.

“Okay,” you open the shower door, naked and soaking wet, his hands tighten into frustrated fists because he can’t join you. “Still going to be late?”

“Afraid so,” he stands outside the tub, the walls of it his own blockade stopping him from being any later.

“Well, Sarah and I will go get a cake for you so at least you’ll have that whenever you get home,” you lean forward, your body dripping water on the floor and his boots.

“Thanks baby,” he wraps his arms around you, he doesn’t care how wet you’re getting his shirt, it’ll be a nice reminder of your body against his as it dries.

“I love you,” you look up at him and smile waiting for a kiss. “Have a good birthday day.”

“I’ll miss you,” his lips brush against yours, restraining himself to keep the kiss from turning heated.

A honk from outside rattles him out of the daydream of stripping off his clothes and joining you, pushing your naked body against the wall and fucking you against it.

“You better get going,” you lean away and step back under the water.

“Shit,” he adjusts the crotch of his jeans as you giggle at his predicament.

“Goodbye birthday boy, love you,” you shut the shower door, going right back to singing your song on the radio.

He stomps down the stairs annoyed that the last vision he’ll have of you on this birthday morning is you naked and smiling at him while water drips down your body.

——

That night after tucking Sarah in with a kiss on her forehead and a stroke of her soft cheek as she sleeps, he walks into his room to find you laid out on the bed, only the thin sheet covering your body, your eyes staring at him with a smirk on your lips. You look like a temptress, and he’s fallen under your spell.

“Happy birthday baby,” you whisper as you climb on top of him.

The gasp you let out as he enters you, shared moans muffled by each other’s lips, your slick squelching as he fucks into you, his tongue lapping up your wetness, the slurp of your lips as you suck him. Nighttime in Joel’s room plays all of the familiar sounds he thinks about during the day. The thought of seeing the way you smile whenever he sticks his cock in you gets him through the worst of days.

——

In the early morning he wakes up sweaty and panicked, panting for air terrified from his nightmare. You turn over, and grab the hand on his chest, soothing him back to sleep with your sweet voice and soft body against his reassuring him he hasn’t lost anything.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller smut #no outbreak #no outbreak!joel miller

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whoreforharlow · 1 year

Text

Lost and Found

Author's Note: An angsty smutty Alpha!Jack fic inspired by some discourse I saw on both @19crimes and @killatravtramp blogs over the last few days about some ABO and alpha energy Jack, so S/O to them and their anons.

Warnings: cursing, unprotected p in v intercourse, a tiny bit of oral (both f and m receiving), size!kink, sub!reader, dom!jack, hair pulling, daddy!kink, dirty talk, choking, breeding!kink, forced orgasms, mentions of bodily fluids, 18+, minors dont interact. Think that's it 🤔

The heavy thud of the front door alerted Jack that you were home, still pissed it seemed. He was laid on the couch, Survivor reruns idly playing on the TV screen as he mostly attended to emails on his phone. He listened to you from where he was: the clatter of your keys on the entryway table, the clicking of your heels exchanged for light scraping of slides, the opening of the fridge door, the clink of what must have been a glass on the marble countertop, the glugging of what he was positive was your chilled wine, the momentary silence before a deep sigh, the second round of glugging before the scrape of slides disappearing down the hallway.

Jack released his own sigh, his feelings conflicting within him. He was still upset, assumed you probably were too, yet it took every ounce of energy to be angry with you. The two of you had been at odds for the last few days, small things that turned into big arguments. You two were frustrated with your own personal worlds and instead of seeking comfort in each other, you turned your shared apartment into a war zone. You both worked in high positions in your jobs, but that doesn't make either of you exempt from being denied by powers even greater than yourselves. That's how it ended up coming home with you both—wanting to assert control and dominance over anything, including each other.

You and Jack always had a very good dynamic going for you both. You both easily fell into masculine and feminine positions in your household, the two of you having a beautiful dance around each other that was completely in sync.

You weren't always like that, having lived on your own for so long, you had slipped into a masculine energy. You were the provider, the protector, the strength of your one person household. Being with Jack had shifted your priorities, falling into a softer, more feminine position, finding that you can trust Jack for those aforementioned traits. His presence let you breathe, knowing everything would be taken care of whenever he was around.

Over the last few days, your job had been demanding more and more from you. Your upset with Jack meant you sought comfort in yourself from the stress. The silent treatment took its toll on you, feeling like you needed to build up those walls again of being your own support. After two years of nothing less than princess treatment, you felt drained playing both roles again. You missed coming to him with your problems and him promising to take care of it, you missed discussing the future with him and planning out your legacy together, you missed coming home to flowers and a warm bath waiting for you.

Little did you know, Jack was also feeling the loss of your warmth. Missing your nurturing spirit, your tenderness, your sweetness after long days split between interviews, meetings, and studio time. Eating his meals alone at the kitchen island made him miss the nights you stayed up late just to spend an hour with him, he missed holding you close as you told him whatever was bothering him would pass, he missed your bubbly excitement as you showed him videos of silly puppies on tiktok, he missed you insisting that he should be the little spoon as you struggled to wrap yourself around his larger frame.

Today was going on day six of the silent treatment, and it was killing you both. Neither one of you could remember what you were upset about, but just knew you didn't want to crack first. For the most part, the two of you hadn't really seen each other, purposely so. You both took on more time at work, the cause of the disruption in your home, rather than the peace of each other's arms. The only time you two really interacted was when you were playing tug-a-war in your sleep over the blanket, if that even counts.

But there was something about tonight, the sigh of defeat that exhaled from your body that broke him. He lifted himself from the couch, following where he suspected you to be, his suspicions correct as he saw the steam escaping the bathroom door that was ajar. He slowly walked in to see your back to him in the glass shower, your forehead pressed against the tile on the wall as you let the spray wash over you. It broke his heart, knowing that on exhausting days like this you like to take a nice bath, a task that he added to his list of personal responsibilities. He felt like he failed you this week, his role of provider and care taker severely neglected, your slouched posture a testament to your physical and mental exhaustion.

Your ears perked up, hearing some rustling coming from beyond the sound of the rushing water inside of the glass cage you were currently in. You tried to ignore it, but the knot in your chest wouldn't let you, you tasked yourself with suppressing your sob. You took a deep breath of the steamy air, allowing it to soften the muscles of your lungs as you released a shaky breath. You decided against turning around, hoping he would leave soon so you could be at peace in the bathroom. Another sob attempted to escape your lips as you repeat that thought in your head. How you had come to the thought where you felt more peaceful without him than with him, even though it wasn't true, broke your heart and caused silent tears to stream down your cheeks.

Jack opened a drawer where you kept many unscented candles, always insisting that they were a blank canvas to not take away the shine of your choice essential oil, grabbing a few and the lighter. He began placing the lit candles around the room, making sure to not miss the corners because he knew the small fear you had when the corners seemed too dark. He grabbed a small rose and vanilla shower steamer: a small, circular, scent brick that can be used to turn a hot shower into a spa experience by releasing the fragrance. He turned off the lights, the new experience of the softer light catching you off guard as you blinked your teary eyes a few times, your hands coming to rest against the wall on either side of you as you resisted the urge to look up.

Undressing himself, he opened the glass door of the shower, turning on the second shower head and dropping the steamer under the hot water. You felt his body close to yours as he stood behind you in front of your shower head, the hot water no longer hitting your reddening skin. You stood there frozen, unsure of what to do, the tears still silently falling from your eyes. For a long moment, neither of you did anything, just standing close to each other in the steam. You wanted to play it cool, turn around and side step him, grab your towel and walk out of the bathroom, pretend you didn't even notice him, but you were frozen.

You felt a warm hand placed on each of yours that were still placed on the wall, his body finally coming to press against yours from behind as you felt his forehead drop to your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, baby" you hear his voice crack, the vulnerability and sorrow in it. You released a loud sob, your body no longer holding back as you cried as hard as you've been wanting to. It was a cry from deep within: a cry of sadness, of loneliness, of frustration, of anger, of guilt, of hurt, of longing. Your body trembled as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you around so he could hold you properly under the shower spray. In your own trembling, you felt the heaving of his chest, the unevenness of his breathing, the slight wetness on your forehead, all alluding to the fact that he was crying too.

"I'm so sorry, too" you begin, but are quickly shushed.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one that should have ended this fight sooner." Jack was always the one to claim responsibility in the relationship. He was never one to play the blame game, he believed that was childish,"little boy shit" as he would always say. If he was going to be the leader of the relationship, then his attitude is what carries the energy of the relationship. Even if you both came home with work frustrations, his attitude is what you matched. Had he left his own hostility at the door that day, had he cooled down your hot head, had he taken the initiative to keep the peace, this could have been avoided. There was a time, a place, a way, to present frustrations to each other, in a way that was productive and problem solving. But the day you both exploded, as the leader, Jack believes he should have been the one to de-escalate the situation.

"I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. I shouldn't have walked out during the fight. I shouldn't have turned my phone off. I shouldn't have let you worry all night about if I was alright or not. I shouldn't have let Urban's text be the only relief you got that I was safe. I should have stayed with you, I knew you needed me with you. I should have sat us down to talk instead of yell. I should have held you, because I know for a fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night, and probably every night since. I'm the one that should be sorry, baby girl." His voice was rough as he spoke, fighting to keep his thoughts in order as he was overwhelmed with emotions. He held you tightly, not only for your comfort but for his as well, one hand rubbing your back, the other on the back of your head.

You pulled away slightly to look at him, his face as red and puffy as yours no doubt, the sincerity in his eyes lit up by the numerous candles, the flames casting him in an angelic glow. Jack has always been your knight in shining armor, your safety, your peace, your rest. To hear him take full accountability, even though you were also to blame for this, bloomed a warmth in your chest that you had never felt before.

In the last two years, you and Jack had never fought like you two had done almost a week ago. It had never gotten as nasty or as ugly as that fight, the two of you completely out of bounds, making a mockery of any boundaries you two had set up; it was a no holds barred match of who could hurt the other more. It was sickening and you both were wracked with guilt afterwards, unable to even look yourselves in the mirror. It was emotionally bloody and brutal, not knowing that either of you could get that low. As much as you two loved each other and believed you'd be together forever, sitting in the aftermath of it, you both were scared that that fight could have been the end. The words thrown were blanks, you both knew that, but it still hurt like the real thing.

"I know you said I have nothing to be sorry for, but I am sorry. I love you, Jack, more than anything in this world. I can't describe how much I love you, I wish I could. You're all that I want, nothing is as important to me as you are. You're my everything Jackman Harlow, my whole world." You confess to him. "I shouldn't have said those things," you choke a bit at the thought, "I should never say things like that to someone I love this much. You only deserve kind words, loving words, uplifting words, supportive words. I'm so sorry, my love." You look up at him with pleading eyes. You knew that he had forgiven you, but he knew how much you required reassurance. He pulled you in again, holding you close as you cried again, whispering his love and forgiveness in your ear.

You leaned up to kiss him, your lips whispering an apology that words could never fully express. You both poured whatever you needed into the kiss, your hands grasping at each other for dear life, the two you a lifeline for each other in this moment. When you pulled away you felt his forehead lean against yours, his nose rubbing yours lovingly as you both smiled for the first in what felt like ages. The pain you both felt washing away as you two basked in each other's love. You looked up at him, the softest look of adoration on his face as he gazed down at you. The two of you glowing in the candle light, the warm floral scent enveloping you both, the water droplets marking the cleansing of your sins against one another. You finally felt like you could breathe, knowing that everything was right between you two.

After washing up, Jack wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, blowing out the candles and guiding you out of the bathroom. The two of you exchanged your towels for robes as Jack led you by the hand to the couch. He plopped down and pulled you into him, your body instinctively curling up into his side, taking comfort in his strong hold on you. He grabbed the remote, playing none other than both of yours comfort movie. He traded the remote for his phone, his thumb quickly swiping away as he ordered your go-to "sad-girl" meal, as you liked to put it, from the place that's open late down the street.

This is what you were used to. From the moment he held you in his arms in the shower, you were able to shut your brain down for the night. Jack always took care of you, your mind and body knew that, and for the first time all week you were able to rest. You were once again his princess: being hand dried and lotioned down after not lifting a finger to wash yourself, then being guided to watch your favorite movie while waiting for your favorite meal to magically appear before you, not a thought or care of how it came to be. This was what you were used to, this was how it was supposed to be. The man you loved babying you as you just basked in his gentle attention like a small child.

You of course fell asleep almost immediately, your body feeling safe and warm in his arms could shut down fully. When you awoke, about an hour had passed and Jack was squirming under you trying to get up to grab the food without waking you. You giggled at his attempted subtlety, and scooted for him to get up. You two shared your meal together, dopey loving looks on both of your faces as you fed each other, sweet kisses exchanged in-between bites. There was such a surge of feel-good hormones, so much oxytocin flooding both of your systems, pupils blown as you gazed at each other, the aphrodisiac of the chocolate cake you two split adding to the shift of the evening.

You pushed the now empty carton off of Jack's lap, the clatter of the forks hitting the floor not distracting you from what you wanted, no needed, in that moment. You straddled Jack's lap, both hands moving to cup his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing his shaggy beard, the hair longer than it was a week ago, making you giddy. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, a groan escaping him as he tasted you for the first time in what felt like forever. His hands ran up and down your thighs, landing on your ass as he gripped the flesh roughly, your hips pressing down to grind on him.

There was a hunger in you both, never had you two been able to go more than a few hours while in each other's presence without fucking. Spending six days, five nights, sleeping right next to each other without touching was a torture all in itself.

Jack was quick to move, his hands holding you to him as he lifted the two of you off the bed, walking you to the bedroom without breaking your kiss. Everything was rough and hurried, too much time had gone past and you refused to let more go by. The second your back hit the mattress, your hands were clawing at the belt of his robe, desperate to remove any barriers between the two of you.

You felt his lips moving down your neck, sucking, biting, licking whatever he could, moving down your body towards your stomach, but you pulled him up by his hair.

"No, Jack, I can't wait. I need you inside me, please, baby, I missed you." You weren't ashamed to beg him. Though the thought of his mouth on you made you shiver, you couldn't stand not being connected to him. Your confession made him smirk as he kissed his way back up to you.

"Turn me over," you softly commanded, your body twisting under him as you tried to get to your stomach. His hands went to your hips, guiding you to your knees as you pressed your front to the mattress. You presented yourself to him, wiggling your ass as you arched your back. He watched you from his kneeled position behind you, his hand stroking himself as he watched your hand come to touch yourself. You moaned as your fingers made contact with your neglected clit, sliding through your wet slit to collect some of your slick from your opening before returning to the aching bud. You turned your head, trying to get a glimpse of him behind you, catching his dazed expression as he watched you. You smiled with giddiness, loving that after all this time you can still turn him on this way. You dipped two fingers into yourself, wishing that it were his, and you let him know just that.

"Mmm, Jack. I've missed you so much, baby. Been so empty without you. Even now with my fingers inside me, I still feel empty. My pussy only wants to be filled with you." You moan to him, your hips rocking to meet your thrusting fingers as you try to reach the places inside you that only Jack can. You feel a warm hand on yours, pulling you away from yourself, his warm lips wrapping around your fingers to lick the wetness. You pull your hand back, both of them now gripping the sheets in anticipation as you bit your lip. You felt his tongue lick a bold stripe up your slit, making your eyes roll back and toes curl at the sensation, an appreciative moan escaping your lips.

You feel two of his fingers enter you, the large digits stretching you slightly as he moved them slowly, causing you to whine and rock back in an attempt to get more of the sensation. He chuckled at your eagerness, halting your hips with his unoccupied hand, his lips coming down to press kisses from your ass up your spine, all the while continuing to massage your walls.

"You're so wet for me, baby. All we did was kiss for a minute, and it's got you like this, huh? I shouldn't be surprised, this little pussy's always ready for me, ain't she?" He speaks slowly, his accent prominent as he watches in a trance as his fingers dip and curl into your pretty pussy. Your wetness dripped down your thighs, some dripping down onto the sheets, trails of it coating down his hand. He was always in awe of how wet you got, knowing it was just for him made him feel possessive of you. From somewhere far away, he could hear you whining for him, begging for more, begging for him to go faster, but he was entranced by the display before him.

He took pleasure in pleasuring you, your body belong to him and he took pride in the power he had over it, how he could command orgasm after orgasm from you, even when you thought you couldn't handle any more. He loved know your beautiful body was his to pleasure. He knew that every man on the planet wished they could have you, but he was honored that you chose to give yourself to him. He knew it was his responsibility to leave you satisfied and sated, that a goddess like yourself deserved nothing less than to have her appetite fed. And boy, did you have an appetite for Jack.

He was taken out of his trance when you had finally had enough of his teasing. You pushed yourself up from your position, his fingers slipping out of you as you turned around on the bed and crawled over to him. You eyed his erection, the heavy length barely able to stand up straight as it bobbed from its own weight between his thighs, the tip an angry pinkish red, shining with precum that had dripped a bit, the prominent vein pulsing which made your mouth water. You had plans to crawl into his lap, but seeing his perfect cock begging for attention had you changing your course of action.

You bent down low, taking his dick in your hand as you stuck your tongue out, licking from the base all the way up to the tip, your tongue curling as you licked the skin just under the head before taking him into your warm mouth. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him a little harder than you should have, making him hiss and flinch slightly; you knew how Jack felt about aggressive head, but it was payback for his teasing. His hand found your hair as he pulled you back, as bashful smile on your lips as you batted your eyes at him innocently. He pulled your face right up to his by your hair, your hands coming to balance on his strong thighs.

"That wasn't very nice, angel." He scolds, making you giggle just a bit, his expression softening at the sound he missed so much. He smiled lovingly, pressing his lips to yours as he pushed you back on the bed, his body coming to lay between your bent legs. His hands rubbed against your torso, playing with your breasts and nipples, twisting and tugging the taut peaks, before rubbing your waist and stomach.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, not wanting him to pull away from you at all, you ran your hands up and down his back and shoulders, around to his chest, up to his cheeks, and then around to the nape of his neck. Just kissing him like this made you dizzy, his masterful lips and tongue caressing yours in a way that made you feel like you could cum from just that.

You felt him lower his hips, his length rubbing up and down your slit, collecting the wetness. You pulled away from him, needing to breathe as you felt his tip bump into your swollen clit. You felt overstimulated just from the anticipation, your body feeling so close to release just from the proximity of him. It never took much for that first orgasm, honestly there have been times where just him filling you was enough to get you off that first time—you were certain this night wouldn't be any different than those times.

"Jack, baby, please," you whimpered, desperate for him, almost panicked with your craving for him, tears at the corners of your eyes, feeling yourself enter that subspace that you've been craving all week. That sweet surrender to him, the contentment of knowing he would take care of you, keep you safe, satisfy you completely, all while your mind slipped away into oblivion. You knew he would take care of your body as you let go over your grip on reality, nothing but pleasure washing over you as he worshipped your body over and over until he decided to give you the mercy of rest. You trusted him to gently guide you back to earth, pull you down from the clouds and wrap you in his arms, anchor you to him and ground you as your soul finds its way back to your body. You'd follow his loving whispers as he called you back to him every time without fail.

"I've got you, princess." He grunted as he pressed himself against your entrance, his swollen head a blunt force against your tightness. You felt him hike your legs up higher around his hips, pressing you open for him as he pressed his forehead to yours, his head angled down as he watched where you two connected. He pressed in, knowing that after all this time he still needed to be gentle with you. His size was always a bit of a challenge for him, intimidating, and sometimes discouraging, most of the women he's been with. He knew what your body needed, taking his time as he opened you up for himself. It was an almost spiritual experience for the both of you, the connecting of two bodies into one, it wasn't just sex to you two.

"Fuck, baby" he grunts, resisting the urge to force himself in too quickly, your velvety walls sucking him in at their own pace, slowly pulsing around him as he eased in. He swears he'll never get used to this. The wetness, the heat, the tightness that deliciously teeters on the line of almost too tight, the cushiony feel of your walls, and firm bump of your cervix once he's fully seated in you. All that accompanied by the pretty sounds that escape your lips; the way your almond shaped nails scrape at his broad shoulders, that dull pain being the only thing stopping him from busting his nut right then and there, grounding him in his euphoria; the way your back arches as he pushes in, your chest pressing into his as his hips continue to press into yours.

"It's so good, Jack," you slur, your hips lifting on their own accord to meet his, the slight burn from the additional force causing you to cum unexpectedly, a squeal leaving your lips as you pressed your chest into his, your head thrown back in bliss, his groan in your ear at your sudden clench around him. The feeling was light, not as intense as you know they will be, but nonetheless took your breath away as you came down with a smile on your face. You giggled a bit, turning your head to look at Jack whose breath was ragged, his sweaty forehead pressed to your shoulder.

"That was unexpected," you giggled, kissing his cheek and nudging him to look at you; Jack was seemingly more affected by the orgasm than you were. You finally got his blue eyes to open, his expression dazed as he formed a smile on his face.

"It took everything in me not to cum right then and there," he chuckled, picking himself up onto his hands like an extended push up. "You okay, baby?" He asked, looking down at you. He was now fully in you, but he was still ever concerned that he could have hurt you. His hand came to rub your cheek, a protectiveness coming over him at the thought of you hurt.

"I'm okay, daddy." You nodded to him, nuzzling his palm as you looked up at him with doe eyes. Your hands came to splay on his chest as he hovered over you, your legs bent around on either side of his slender hips. The position made you feel so small, his larger body caging you, his strong arms on display, his wide chest feeling powerful under your fingertips. Your small hands take a moment to roam his body, running through the soft hair on his chest, down his sculpted torso, his stomach flexing as you inch closer to where the two of you were connected, the skin there a bit ticklish. You continue your exploration, an awesome expression on your face as you appreciated his body. You knew he had his own body image issues, so did you, so whenever you could, you took the chance to just admire him.

"So beautiful," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Just so beautiful," you repeated as you took your time to look at him, forgetting that the two of you were in the middle of having sex. "Missed you." This time you look up to his face, your heart breaking at the confession, a bubbling of heartache in your chest all over again. He felt your change of energy immediately, your subby space leaving your emotions fluid as all you could do was feel without thought. Your eyes began to water and your lip trembled, your breathing getting heavier as you reached for him to come down to you, needing to be held.

"I'm right here, angel. It's alright, I've got you." He reassured you, cooing in your ear as his arms came around your back to hold you to him, his lips coming to press to your teary cheeks. "I love you, baby. I'm not going anywhere", he kisses you passionately, calming your mild panic, your earlier feelings resurfacing before being forced away but his touch. You feel him move slightly, testing the waters, making you moan against his mouth. He was seated deep inside you, his girth stretching you out so well as he rocked inside of you, your wetness sounding out in the room as your hips moved to meet his shallow thrusts.

"So good," you mumble, his head repeatedly bumping your cervix making the pressure build in your stomach. "Like that, don't stop" you beg, your hands in his hair as you guide his lips to your neck. He slowly sucks on the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving marks.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He asks, his lips moving against your cheek, his pace steady as he increases the pressure of his hips, you can barely speak, the added sensations taking your breath away. Your hips naturally continue their rhythm against his, the string in your stomach feeling like it could snap at any moment. Jack knows you're close, your core tightening around him, causing him to groan in your ear, setting you off. His arms are still cradling you to his chest, his body around you feeling suffocating as you writhe against him, this orgasm coming from deep within you as you clench around him like a vice, Jack unable to move as he grits his teeth together at the sensation. Your body continues to twitch as you come down, electricity still flickering throughout your body as your pussy slowly releasing its grip on Jack's dick, causing him to exhale through his flared nostrils.

Your body is limp, feeling like jello as you just lay there in his embrace, chest heaving, face flushed, pussy tender. You feel Jack pull out of you, but you barely have the energy to say anything as you just close your eyes and bask in the post orgasm sensations. You feel Jack slowly lower your legs from around his waist, turning you over, your body too exhausted and heavy to care. He's got you on your stomach, his hands coming to massage your back and hips, his lips on the back of your neck as he whispers how good you were for him, making you smile lightly. You feel him press behind you, his hand coming to your right thigh from your hip, hooking behind your knee as he brings it forward towards your chest. You wince slightly at the stretch, your hips having tightened from the previous position he had you in. The cool air blows against your sore pussy, a sensation that makes you squirm lightly as you try to bring your legs back together but his hand behind your knee stops you.

"Uh-uh, baby. I want you just like this." His face is pressed to yours, cheek to cheek, as he comes to lay on top of you, his dick rubbing your sensitive slit making you cry out in mild discomfort. He shushes you, his face coming over to kiss you messily, lips and tongue twisting and smacking against each other, his hand leaving your knee to palm your tender breast. He takes your distraction as a chance to press into you, your pussy welcoming him as you let out the most pornographic moan he had ever heard. His forehead pressing into the back of your shoulder, as he slowly works himself into you, your walls still pulsing from your orgasm. You groaned at the mild discomfort as the wider part of his dick worked its way into you, and he was quick to whisper comforting words into your ear.

"Daddy," you whined, your hips shifting in an attempt to escape the feeling, but his hand came down to hold you in place as he continued pushing into you.

"Be a good girl for me, princess. You can take it, just relax. Just like that, pretty girl." He groaned his words into your ear as he pressed all the way in, his hand leaving your hip to rub your clit. You squealed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him away.

"Too much," you babbled into the pillow, making him chuckle and place a sweet kiss to your cheek. He began moving his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back into the hilt, each time making your breath catch in your chest. His pace was slow and rough, his own knee coming up behind yours for additional leverage. You both could feel your wetness dripping from your pussy, making him glide in effortlessly into your tight passage.

"You feel so good, baby. So tight f'me, every damn time." He mumbled in between his groans. He picked up his pace, the sensations too good to resist as he started fucking you faster. It felt so good, the head of his dick rubbing against your g-spot with every up stroke and dragging against it on every down, you almost couldn't take it as you just moaned and groaned, babbling incoherently as he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly.

"I-I-I c-can't," you finally formulated something remotely understandable, your hand grabbing at his hand that was holding your hip steady. You clawed at him, but he refused to ease up, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed before speaking to you.

"You can take it, baby. Yes, you can. This pussy was made for my dick, she can take it." He clasps your hand in his, the intimate act lost on you as your eyes roll back, your body attempting to coil in on itself as your orgasm flooded your system, a choked sob leaving your throat as the euphoria clouded you. With your ears ringing, you could barely make out Jack's groan as his body went rigid on top of yours, his hips sloppily thrusting as he attempted to fight against the clench of your walls holding him like a vice, a deep warmth filling your pussy as he came inside you.

You couldn't register anything as you both came down, heavy breathing was the only thing heard in the room as you tried to get a grip on reality. Your head was spinning, your body humming, your heart beating in your ears. The only thing keeping you down to earth was the heavy weight of your boyfriend on top of you, his hand still holding yours as he tried to catch his breath. You could feel him still inside you, even after cumming as hard as he did, he was still hard so you knew this was far from the end.

"You did so good, pretty girl, did so good for me. You're always such a good girl, aren't you? My best girl." You preened at his attention, and he could tell by the way your pussy fluttered that you enjoyed his words. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your face as he continued. "Did daddy make you feel good? You looked so beautiful when you were cumming on my dick, baby, prettiest thing I've ever seen. I love you so much, all I ever want is to make you feel good, angel." You blushed at his words, angling your head back so you could get to his lips, Jack happily obliging your silent request.

You felt him pull out of you, your legs coming together immediately to try to apply pressure to the soreness there. He stayed resting on top of you, knowing you needed to feel his skin on yours when you got like this.

"You okay, y/n?" You were so out of it in your sub-space, but the one thing that caught your attention was the usage of your name. He was giving you a chance to use your safe word if you needed it. That was something you and Jack practiced often when going into intense sessions. He would never use your name during sex, and when he did, it was to check in with you if he ever felt like maybe you needed a break.

"Green," you croaked out, signaling you wanted to continue. You felt exhausted, but this was what you wanted, what you had been craving all week. Your body felt light and heavy at the same time, your brain was mush and all your senses were clouded by Jack and you couldn't possibly ask for anything more.

You felt his body shuffle a bit, moving from on top of you as he came to straddle your ass, his thick erection sitting atop the fleshy mounds, glistening with a mix of your cums as he rubbed it in between the seam. His hands came to rub your back, just wanting to touch and feel your body. He watched how his two hands dwarfed your waist, curving around your sides, as he pressed forward to your shoulder blades; you looked so small under him, so delicate. He felt so powerful over you, his hands gliding across your beautiful skin, the sweat making you shimmer, the sweet sounds escaping your mouth as his fingers pressed in a certain spot.

"C'mere, baby," he whispered softly, his arms coming to wrap around you as he pulled you up to your knees, your body slumping back against his chest as he guided you to settle on his thighs, his erection against your back. You laid your head against his shoulder, his arms the only thing keeping you from plopping back down on the bed. You moaned uncomfortably at the heavy weight of your body, just wanting to go to sleep. With one arm around your waist, he used his hand to turn your chin to him, your fucked out expression making him smile to himself, a shy one of your own coming to settle on your lips as you blushed.

"You're so perfect, angel. My perfect girl." He commented with sincerity, his lips coming down to meet yours. You tiredly tried to keep up with him but were too exhausted, pulling away to nuzzle his neck as you caught your breath, your body twisting in an attempt to turn around in his lap.

"Uh-uh, princess. I want you just like this. Look up, pretty." He instructed, his chin nudging your head from his neck, for you to look forward, a large full length mirror situated right in front of you two. You took in your disheveled self—your two French braids frizzy and falling apart, your neck and chest and breasts covered in blotchy reddish-purple marks, your hips with slight marks from when Jack had gripped you a bit too hard, your skin sweaty and shiny, your lips puffy and swollen just like your pussy. Your eyes flitted to Jack seated behind you, his large upper body barely obstructed by you sitting in front of him. His skin was flushed red, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his plump lips swollen and well kissed. His hands had moved to rub your thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, anything he could grab onto. It made you moan, seeing how big they were against your body, how much of you he was able to grab in each handful, it drove you crazy.

Your hand moved to rest on top of his, seeing the size difference almost had you moaning. You loved that he was bigger than you, it turned you on and he knew it. You guided his hand up your body, allowing him to feel the dips of your curves as you brought him to cup your chest, your back arching to fill his hand with the delicate flesh. You closed your eyes as he massaged your breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple, twisting and pulling the way you like. You angled your head back, your lips latching on to the spot you knew he liked under his jaw, your ass grinding back against his lap as you spread your legs a bit wider over his thighs. You brought your hand atop his other one, guiding it to where you craved him most, the long digits finding your dripping cunt.

"Please, daddy."

That was all he needed, his hand coming to cup your sex, the external pressure having you grind down in his palm for some friction. He let his middle and ring finger slip between the folds, rubbing back and forth to the rhythm of your hips. You wanted more as you whined, attempting to angle your hips to have his fingers slip in. You felt frustrated, fucked out but not fucked enough; you wanted more, all the while not sure if you could take it. You felt your breathing pick up, defiance rising up in your chest at your frustration with his actions, or lack thereof, so you did the only thing your subbed-out mind could think of—you bit him.

A sharp slap to your pussy had you yelping, your body pressing back into Jack's to escape the feeling, pressing into his erection, making him groan.

"That wasn't nice, princess. Behave and I'll give you what you want." He admonished. "Raise up a little for me." He instructed with a tap to your thigh, your body leaning forward and away from his as he rubbed his dick through your folds again, collecting as much of the slick as he could, knowing that you would be sensitive. He tapped his dick against you a few times, the head hitting your clit and making you jump before pushing into you. He held your hips tight, making sure to control the pace as he watched your scrunched up face in the mirror, knowing that initial press-in would be uncomfortable.

He was slow, pushing in a little bit and holding you there, his hips bouncing a bit as he pulsed his dick inside of you. As he'd watch your face relax, he pressed in a little bit more of himself, thoughtfully watching your reactions in the mirror. It wasn't until you started meeting his pulses with rocking hips did he slide in the rest of the way, one of his hands leaving your hips to rest on your stomach, pulling you back against him as you sat perfectly on his lap, his dick fully inside you.

"Open your eyes, baby girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes." Your eyes flutter open, your eyes lingering on the sight in front of you for a moment before meeting his. He looked in awe of you and it made you blush, but you held eye contact with him. His lips landed on your shoulder, his eyes never leaving contact with yours. The two of you sat like that for a moment, just taking everything in.

Your arms felt limp, but you willed them to wrap around his neck, your head turning to kiss him, his soft lips caressing yours. Your hips shifted a bit, making you pull away to gasp, the new angle hitting your cervix in a way that was intense. He noticed your expression, your brows furrowing as your lips parted. You shifted your hips again and again trying to get used to the sensation, soft noises leaving your lips as Jack whispered encouraging words in your ear.

"You okay, baby? Talk to me."

"It's so deep, Jack. It's too much." You gazed up in his eyes, your soft, doe-like expression driving him crazy. You took his hand that was pressed against your waist, holding you to him, and lowered it further to your naval, pressing his hand against your distended tummy where you felt him. "I feel you right here, it's too deep." You whine, shifting your hips again, allowing his tip to rub against your cervix to emphasize his depth.

"It's not too deep, baby. It's right where it needs to be." He cooed, his hips rocking into you. His actions were slow but forceful, making your head spin as your arm that was still behind his head held on to him for dear life. You squirmed against him, whining and writhing, wanting both more and less of the sensation. You felt him hike your body up further against him, allowing him to raise up off his haunches as he pulled out and pushed back in making you squeal and try to push away from him. Both of his arms came to wrap around you, to keep you in place as he began fucking you, each thrust hitting your cervix and making your toes curl.

"There you go, pretty girl, there you go. Just like that, you can take it." He whispered in your ear, watching your face in the mirror. Watching the way his large body engulfed yours, the way your breasts bounced forward with every thrust, the way your hands clawed at his arms to try to escape the pleasure between your legs. He tightened his hold on you with one arm, his other skimming up your chest to rest on your throat as he picked up the pace of his hips, pulling your body down to meet his. He pressed his face into the side of yours, still watching you in the mirror, thinking about how he had never seen anything so beautiful before. You had one hand grasping his arm around your torso, the other pressed against his thigh in a failed attempt to push him away, your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, the whites of your eyes peeking out from under your lids, thin lines of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth was slightly agape as a small stream of drool dribbled down your chin, nothing but broken moans and the occasional obscenity falling from your swollen lips. He loved knowing he was the one to bring you to this fucked out state, no one else. He felt possessive over this side of you, making him fuck you harder with a primal need.

"You gonna let me cum inside you again? Huh, angel? But, you're no angel, are you? Letting me defile this pussy like this, fuck this perfect pussy like this, huh baby? Letting me fuck you so good, got my princess crying. Open your eyes, baby. Look at how good I'm fucking you." He instructs, his hand around your throat squeezing gently to get your attention. He gives you a few moments to heed his instruction and when you didn't, he fucked you harder, his hand around your throat tightening.

"I said open your eyes, darlin'," he grits out between his teeth with that derby accent, his own orgasm approaching quickly as he bit down on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, blinking away the tears, barely recognizing the woman in front of you being fucked senseless. You barely had control of your senses, your pupils completely blown as your eyes trying to figure out what to focus on. His face? Your face? His hands? Your breasts? His arms? His hips? Or the sight of his dick disappearing into your pussy?

"Look at how sexy you look. Such a goddess with this beautiful body, baby. I love you so much, look at you, what's not to love, huh? So sexy, so beautiful, so smart, so talented, so kind, so funny, so perfect. My perfect girl, my best girl." You can't help but let your eyes fall closed at his praise, but his hand tightening around your throat again caused you to reopen them. "Uh-uh baby. Keep'em open for me. I want you to watch me fuck you, fill you up so good with my cum. Is that what you want, princess? You want me to fill you with my cum?" He chuckles in your ear as you eagerly nod, your hips instinctively rocking back to meet his thrusts, desperate for his cum.

"Yes, yes please, oh god, yes. I need it, daddy, I need your cum, please," you babbled, words tripping over themselves as you looked at him in the mirror with a crazed look of desperation. You're begging for it, nothing will suffice except for his cum filling you up. You feel wild with need, your brain not comprehending anything but the absolute necessity of being filled with his thick load, as if your life depended on it. He loved it when you begged for him, especially when you begged for his cum, knowing how badly you wanted it in your sub-space.

"You're gonna let me cum in your pussy, huh? You're gonna let me fill you up so much it's dripping out of you? You've already made such a mess," referring to the puddle of wetness beneath you two. "I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good. Imma put a baby in you. Would you like that? You want me to put my baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, princess?" You moaned at his words, your stomach coiling at the thought.

"Yes, yes please. Cum inside me, let me make you a daddy." You begged him, the thought of carrying his child making you hot with need.

"You want that, baby? You want everyone to know I'm the only one who gets to cum inside you? Mark you so everyone knows who you belong to? Have you waddling around with my baby inside you, your belly swelling as you grow our beautiful baby. You'd make such a good mommy, baby." His hands traveling to cup both of your breasts, his hips still keeping their same brutal pace. "I can't wait for these to swell up too, get all sensitive for me to play with." His twisting of your nipples making you groan, your hips moving faster against his as your orgasm starts closing in.

"Please, Jack. Cum inside me, let everyone know who I belong to. Please, I want to have your baby, make you a daddy, make us a family." Your words have him fucking you harder, faster, rougher. His own orgasm so close as his hand goes back down to your lower stomach, his hand pressing down on the area making you feel him even more. You yelp, trying to get away from the overwhelming sensation, but he just presses down harder.

"Don't run from it, darlin'. You said you wanted it, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck this baby into you." His free hand coming to rub your clit, making the coil on your belly snap with just a few swipes. You let out an almost pained groan, your body curling in on itself as your torso drops down to the bed, unable to to hold yourself up anymore, your position now resembling child's pose.

Jack's body is quick to come over yours, his hand still trapped between your thighs under your curled up body, his fingers still rubbing against your clit to prolong your orgasm. You're fully crying, sobbing, wailing, unable to escape the pleasure he was delivering, his hips still sloppily thrusting into you as he finally reaches his own orgasm. His hips press as deep as he can, your new position allowing him to press harshly to your cervix as he releases his thick load inside of you, coating your walls in the warm sticky substance, a sensation that has your toes curling. You both continue to lay there, both of your bodies twitching from the intensity of your orgasms, your pulsing walls continuing to milk his dick for more of his cum, short spurts still shooting out from the tip in his aftershocks. He pulls his hand from between your legs, a wet digit finding its way to between his lips before he offers you one as well. You sleepily take it into your mouth, not having the energy to tease him with your tongue.

"You did so good f'me, darlin'. So good. Such a good girl f'me, you know that. Gonna make such a good mommy to our babies one day. Love you so much." His words are gentle as he kisses your cheek, trying to gently begin bringing you back to the land of the living. You mumble something incoherent to him as a response, your brain too mushy to put together a proper sentence. You two stay like that for a while, his body draped on top of yours, his heat and weight a welcomed comfort after the fucking you had just endured. His hands massages up and down your arms, his heartbeat thumping against your back, the rise and fall of his chest a comforting lull.

"I love you, Jack. So much." You tell him, the clouds finally clearing from your mind. You pull your head up slightly, looking at the mirror in front of you to see the sight before you. His large body hiding yours beneath him made you feel warm and safe, a protective cage surrounding you. You reach your hand around, instinctively reaching for his curls to scratch at his scalp. You knew he needed some aftercare after such intense sessions, so you continued to speak to him.

"You're always so good to me, baby. You take such good care of me. You're all I ever need, Jack. Nothing else. No one else." Your voice is soft as you continue, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter. "I can't wait for us to have a family, you'll be such a wonderful father. You're already such a wonderful partner. You're my provider and protector, my rock and my support, my lover and best friend." You hear a sniffle muffled into your neck, knowing he just needed a moment to bask in your praise. You continue to scratch at his scalp, humming softly to yourself as you continue to ride that post sex bliss.

Once you feel him push up off of your body, you twist your upper body around underneath him, your lower bodies still connected by his softened member. You smile up at him, looking at him with adoring eyes that makes him want to fuck you all over. You take in his face, the space around his eyes definitely wet from what were probably some tears. Sex this intense always had you both emotional, all the hormones being released, the vulnerability of your nakedness. One of your favorite things about Jack was how he wasn't afraid to show you those emotions, knowing that he was just as safe with you as you were with him.

"Gimme a kiss, handsome" you softly command, his lips wasting no time in finding yours. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of so much love. When you both pulled away, he kept his face close to yours, his nose nuzzling yours, his cheeks rubbing yours, his beard making you giggle, a smile breaking onto his face at the sound.

You feel him start to pull out of you, your eyes wide as you wrap an arm around his back, your core clenched to lock him in, the pressure on his sensitive dick making him hiss and look at your wide eyed expression in question.

"No, baby. I need to keep it safe." You mumbled to him, remnants of your subspace peaking through. You didn't want to let him go, you didn't want it all to end just yet.

"You want to keep my cum safe, huh baby?" His voice is husky as his eyes darkened. You nod your head, your hips shifting against his as you hear the squelching of his cum inside you. "Okay baby, let's get you more comfortable then, huh. I need you to relax for me, okay?" You take a deep breath, unclenching your pussy, allowing him to maneuver your lower half around, laying you flat on your back without letting him slip from inside of you.

He was sat up, your legs spread apart, your feet propped up on his thighs, as your pussy stuffed with his now semi-hard on was on full display for him. Your thighs and his lap were fully drenched in the sticky wetness, your pussy was creamy with the coating of his first load that had dripped out of you. His fingers came to trace the swollen skin, playing in the mess you two had created. Your clit was swollen, peeking out from the folds like a sweet pearl, making him want to reach down and suck it between his lips.

"You think you can do one more, princess?" His eyes momentarily leave their gaze on your pussy to look up at you. You shook your head at him, but the flutter in your pussy let him know you were just playing coy. "C'mon baby girl, I know you can do it." His thumb finally resting on your clit, applying pressure but not moving. You moaned at the sensation, whining as your hips moved, his hardening dick starting to stretch you out once again. He collected some of the creamy essence from between your legs, his thumb brushing the shiny substance along your nipple before his mouth came down to claim it, moaning against the flesh at the taste. Your hand came to cradle his head to you, his lips mouthing at your sensitive breast while he palmed the other.

"Just one more," you whispered to him, the delicious fullness of his now hard dick inside you had you craving more of him once again. The sensitive sting of your stretched out opening dulled by the tension swirling in your gut. You felt him smirk against you, leaning back up to his kneeling position. He contemplated how he wanted to fuck you, but ultimately decided he wanted to be as close to you as possible as he made love to you.

Jack reached over to grab a pillow, folding it in half as he placed it under your hips before collecting your legs and bringing them together, gently pressing them forward to your chest. He was slow with the process, not wanting to hurt you as he leaned his body down against yours, your legs now over his shoulders, your knees against your chest. You felt a dull ache in your hips at the feeling of being folded in half. Jack's arms came around to cradle you from under your back, your head gently held in his hands as he brought his forehead down to yours. You both closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, enjoying the vulnerable and close position you two were in. You felt his lips on yours, his tongue leisurely gliding against yours, using this as a distraction as he rocked his hips, making you pull away to catch your breath.

"Oh god, Jack." You moaned, the position of your hips being propped up made for his pelvis to rub against your clit. You could hear all of the filthy sounds of your wetness as he began thrusting gently, fucking his cum inside of your pussy. You could feel some of it dripping down from your slit, tickling the seam of your ass cheeks, knowing it was pooling down on the pillow, but you didn't care. He continued to kiss you passionately, making love to you as he used his hands to caress your face, your own doing the same to his as you held him close to you. As much as you both loved fucking, there was nothing like good ol' love making.

"You feel so good around me, baby girl. Fucked you so hard all night and you're still so damn tight around me. This pussy was made for me, wasn't it, angel? Your heart was made for me. Your mind, body, and soul was made for me. No one else, darlin'." His confession, in combination with the pressure on your clit and in your pussy was enough to make you cum, your walls tightening around him as your wetness dripped and squirted, Jack's hips grinding and digging into your pussy to prolong the experience for you. You felt it from your head to your toes, the fire that licked through your veins and swelled in your chest. He kissed around your face and neck as you caught your breath, his lips collecting the salty sweat and tears that fell from the corners of your eyes.

"So perfect." He praised as your breathing leveled slightly. His hips went back to his soft thrusting, his orgasm not too far behind as he felt his balls tighten. He leaned his forehead against your cheek, his head angled down to watch your pussy swallow his dick again and again, both of your cum glistening on it whenever he pulled out, still in awe of how something so tight could accommodate his huge size.

"Please fill me up again, daddy. I need it again." You babbled, catching his attention. You wanted to feel him spilling into you again, the sensation truly addicting as he always filled you up with so much cum each time. "I want to stay so full of you, I want every last drop. Can you do that for me? Can I have it? I've been such a good girl for you, I deserve it." You felt that subspace creeping up on you again, feeling emotional at the thought that maybe he would deny you his cum. He rested his head against yours, both of you cradling the other's face in your palms as you held eye contact, soft grunts coming from both of your lips as Jack's hips sped up.

"I'll give it to you baby, I'll fill you up again and again, keep you filled up and stuffed with my cum. Keep it safe in your womb until you're pregnant with my child. Let everyone know how good I fuck you, how you let me cum deep inside you." His words were cut off by a guttural groan, his stomach clenching as his hips sputtered, his cum filling you up for the third time tonight, the hot substance right against your cervix as he teased his sensitive tip against it to prolong the stimulation. His body felt heavy, but he made sure to lower your legs before collapsing on top of you. His head laid against your chest, as he heaved in a shaky breath, his body twitching with aftershocks, his balls still clenching to try and empty themselves fully into your pulsing pussy.

"I love you, baby, so much," you heard him whisper, his body completely spent, as you used whatever energy you had left in you to scratch at his scalp.

"Love you too."

#jack harlow #jack harlow smut #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #s just made another one

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