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#every time i gif it it gives me the butterflies
lichenes · 1 day
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hiiiii you’re doing gods work by making these fanfics truly so grateful do you 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 could you please do more Swann fics oh just himself pls🥺 nafw or sfw whichever you like!!
Thank you anon<33 Thought I'd give you a domestic moment of you nd Swann :3c CW: established relationship, kissin, inconsistent french pronouns wc: 358 _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____
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You entered your house incredibly exhausted from the day you've had. The scent filling your nose almost knocked you off your feet with how good it was. "Swann?" You called out into the ether, earning a response in the form of a hum. You took off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, guiding your steps towards the kitchen where the smell was coming from.
"What are you cooking, love?" He turned his head, stirring the contents of the pan constantly. "Could you hand me the lid?" You did, and he turned down the heat. "I have to let it simmer for a bit." He put the wooden spoon on the brink of the sink as to not dirty the counter.
"How was your day, ma chérie?" Swann asked, wiping his hands on the apron you got him for Christmas. "Tiring, but I'm glad to be home." You smiled at him, and he extended his arms, inviting you into a hug. While you were hugging, he kissed the top of your head, making butterflies spread through your stomach.
"Lovely, I think it's burning." You said, pulling back from him. He quickly retrieved the spoon and started stirring furiously, cursing in French under his breath, which earned a laugh out of you.
When dinner was ready, he plated two portions. The meal was lovely, and you offered to do the washing up as he was the one cooking. While you were cleaning the plates, he put leftovers into a container and put them into the fridge. "How are you doing, lovely?" You asked him, drying the plates.
"Mhm, fine." Swann smiled at you. That ice-melting smile was something that got you every single time. What you weren't fully aware of was him being totally lost in your gorgeous eyes. "Mon ange…" He put his hands on your cheeks. "Mon cœur…" He said, putting his forehead to yours.
You chuckled, your cheeks heating up. He gave you a careful kiss, making you melt in his grasp. He disarmed you with romantic remarks and dodged all your barriers, going straight for your heart, which was truly all his.
"Let's get to bed."
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Butterfly kisses
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Summary:  While comforting Yeosang about his insecurity about his birthmark, you tell him something that your grandmother once taught you.
Pairing: bf!Yeosang x fem!idol!reader
Word Count:  909 words
Warnings: Cuteness overload, talking about insecurities
[AN: I hope you guys like it! it had been a thought while watching some videos of ATEEZ and I just had to write it out <3 RE-UPLOAD from my old blog @/justsomedreaming]
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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The day had been tiring for both, you and your boyfriend Yeosang. You knew that his busy schedule would have him exhausted in the evening, since the boys had a fan meeting and a performance today. However, what you did not expect was to come home to an empty dorm room of your boyfriend after your dance practice at the company. “Yeo?” You called out for him after putting away your purse, only to stop next to the bathroom from where you heard quiet sniffles. “I- I am in here, hang on,” his voice answered, inside you were able to hear a rustle and the splashing of water, bringing a frown to your face. Your hand rested against the wooden door for a moment before you decided to give him a bit of space, walking over to the bed to get changed into more comfortable clothes for now, not removing your makeup yet. That's something you never did in front of your boyfriend or the others, but it didn't seem to bother any of them at all.
You didn't have to wait long for Yeosang to unlock and step out of the bathroom, walking straight to the bed to sit down on it. When you saw his bare face and the redness of his nose and eyes, you slowly walked over to sit next to him, taking his hand in yours to squeeze it gently. The two of you often just sit on the bed silently, just enjoying each other's company without needing to talk or anything. This evening, it felt different though, he seemed absent, on the brink of tears at any second. 
“Yeo…you know that you can talk to me, right?” You asked quietly, drawing a nod from him and when you moved to sit fully on the bed, legs crossed, he did the same, head hanging low and not looking up at you though. “I- the fanmeeting was horrible…” He whispered, your expression softening at those words. It's rare that Yeosang would say something like this, usually he enjoys talking to ATINY, but today, it seems that something had happened. “While performing, my makeup got messed up and revealed my birthmark…usually it's not bad, but the fans were all asking about it. Every question they had was about it and I just- it was too much today.” Taking both of his hands in his, you squeezed them gently, head tilted ever so slightly. You knew that this birthmark was something he was still a bit insecure about, even though he never said something. “Were they mean?” It was a simple question, one he could answer with yes or no, or if he wanted, explain and tell you. Yeosang opted for shaking his head no, which made you sigh in relief. At least his fans weren't mean or disrespectful to him.
"Good,” You said. “I will get you something to drink, okay? And then, we do whatever you want.” Squeezing his hands gently, you slowly got up to head to the kitchen real quick, letting the boys know that you and Yeosang want alone time and then you got a bottle of his favorite drink for each of you. Before heading back to him though, you stepped into the bathroom, using some of his make-up remover wipes to clean your own face from all the makeup, revealing your own birthmark, one that starts right below your lip and wanders down your neck, ending at your collarbone.
When stepping back into the room, you took in your former position, placing the bottle for him in his hands and when he lifted his head to thank you, his eyes widened. It's the first time he saw you bare faced, so he had no idea about your own birthmark. “You-” He started, but you cut him off with a gentle peck on his lips, smiling lovingly at your boyfriend. “When I was younger, the other kids would always make fun of me, laughing about my birthmark. But my halmeoni always dried my tears when it got to me too much and told me a story.” While you talk, he lifts his hand to let a finger brush over the darker mark on your chin, eyes sparkling with tears, but also curiosity in them. “She told me that the marking on my skin is something special, something unique, which only those people have who were kissed by a butterfly.” A smile appearing on your lips at the memory, your own hand now lifting to brush your fingers over his birthmark. “You are a wonderfully unique person too, Yeo. And I think, your butterfly kiss is beautiful.”
At your words, you saw some new tears appear in his eyes, but his face also lit up with a loving smile. Then, without a warning, he leaned forward to place a kiss on your birthmark before pecking your lips as well. This draws a giggle from you, you doing the same to him, first a kiss on his birthmark, then on his lips. 
“Thank you, jagiya. You always know how to make me feel special,” he whispered, taking your hands in his to pull you into a hug now which made both of you fall over and land on the pillows of his bed. He turned you, so you would face him, and kissed you again, tears still in his eyes. “And thank you for showing me your butterfly kiss, you are truly beautiful.”
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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garoujo · 9 months
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✩ ˛˚ . WAKING UP WITH THEM feat. 𝓙𝓤𝓙𝓤𝓣𝓢𝓤 𝓚𝓐𝓘𝓢𝓔𝓝!
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji
warnings! none, fluff ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hi it’s been so long + i just got a sudden urge to write with the new season + all! life has been super cray but hopefully i get to do some more jjk again ueueue! back to my roots <3
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU
it was almost a mission getting up next to gojo, or more so having to actually get out of bed when you have your overgrown clingy boyfriend wrapped around you.
his breathing is soft, the rise and fall of his chest is steady and despite the way the light barely breaks into the room you can see the way his lashes still rest along his cheeks.
now’s your chance, you think to yourself as you ease gojo’s arm from where he’s got it draped over your waist — gently as to not jolt him awake as you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed. you gently swing your legs over the edge, but just as you go to push yourself up you hear the slow, drowsy drawl of a man who’s definitely not about to let you do that.
“oh, what’s this? i don’t think so, sweet thing.” your snowy haired boyfriend grunts as his arms take their previous place around your waist from behind, tighter this time before you’re pulled back into his chest with such an ease you almost squeak. you barely heard him move and the speed he always seems to despite the early hours still makes your head feel dizzy.
“you wouldn’t leave me cold would you? where’s your heart?” gojo teases but you note that he’s warm when he’s pushing himself into the crook of your neck, letting his lips graze along the skin there as he chuckles at the way you shudder at the touch. he knows you’re pouting, your little mission not so successful—but he still thinks it’s adorable the way you melt back into him regardless.. like you were secretly hoping for the loss.
“you were literally asleep a second ago.” your words are accompanied by a playful pinch at his cheek before his large palms graze under your shirt, squeezing at your waist as he pulls away to give you a tilted look. his sleepy smirk is in place as it stretches wide before he leans into to press a quick kiss against your lips, then another against your cheek that lingers.
“oh yeah? but i thought i was still in a dream, sweet girl.” crystalline eyes pull back to look over you, mapping out your features like gojo hasn’t already committed them to memory. but you think it’s unfair how handsome he seems to look in the mornings, especially when you’re trying to resist the way he makes you want to give in to his request to stay in bed a little longer.
“yeah yeah, just get up already.”
“nuh ugh, you’ve not even given me my good morning kiss yet. how will i survive the day, hm?”
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✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU
you need to get up, geto knows when your alarm goes off for the third time even though it was the first that woke him. “i know you’re awake, pretty girl.” he hums against your temple, but you’re still pressed up into him and every attempt to shake you gently awake has you inching yourself closer to his chest rather than to the edge of the bed.
“come on.” his words are accompanied by the smooth trace of his hands along the curve of your spine and you think it’s a little contradictory, the way he’s making you melt even more into him despite the way it’s supposed to be waking you up instead.
“sugu, but i’m tired.” a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze of his hand at your hips and you hear geto chuckle as he pulls back to look at you — his dark hair still messily framing his features as he pushes himself up.
“yeah? you seemed to be sleeping well when you were snoring.” he teases even as one arm still wraps around you and pulls you into him anyway. chuckling, long and low when you grumble before nuzzling into the crook of his neck to press butterfly kisses along his skin.
“i don’t snore.” you reply before you find yourself lost in him, geto always smelled good, so good you wanted to wrap yourself in him like the blanket you wrap yourself in at night. you hear him hum at your words; like he’s not quite convinced before he’s reaching over you to tap at the alarm, again.
“but we really need to get up.” he sighs but somehow manages to keep you still pressed against him as he sits up, letting you curl up against his chest as the first cold press of morning air rolls over your shoulders while he stretches.
you look up at him with drowsy features but it seems to warm you from the inside out when you notice he’s already staring, a smirk in place before he’s pinching once at your cheek and kissing your lips when they jut out into a pout.
“hey, don’t gimme that look after all of those alarms, pretty girl.”
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✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO
waking up with nanami was easy, or more so being woken up by him. he was always up early, waking you up with a sweet kiss against your cheek, followed by another against your temple. his coffee still lingers on his lips but you think it’s familiar, like it makes the first stretch of the day come a little easier when hes resting over you.
“morning, sweetheart.” his voice is a low drawl but he knows you’ll probably still be in bed by the time he leaves. but you know you’ll walk into the kitchen to sliced fruit on the table and your slippers will be waiting in their place over the edge — perfectly positioned for you to slide into because he knows the floor is a little colder in the morning.
“morning, kento.” your voice is cute, barely audible but nanami’s still close enough to hear it as he lets his palm push gently down the curve of your shoulder — squeezing at the skin affectionately. your eyes are barely open, but you can still feel the way he tucks the comforter over you, sighing softly before he pulls back.
“do you want me to bring in dinner?” he asks, you’re barely awake but he still waits for an answer. a little nod follows and he smiles to himself when you subconsciously roll onto his side of the bed, seeking out the small remainder of the warmth he’d left behind although you’d still rather he be next to you instead.
“then i won’t be late, i have dinner plans now after all.” nanami pulls back to take another sip of his coffee but you still seem to find the consciousness to reach out to grab at the cuff of his shirt. a drowsy blink up at him and he knows he can’t deny you when he’s leaning over you again, leaving you with another few kisses that find him having to smooth down his shirt and hair again afterwards.
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✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
you think it’s charming, the way megumi is already looking at you as you wake, blinking blearily at your dark haired boyfriend as he gives you a content sort of look. you blink again, stretching slightly before you roll onto your side, edging yourself closer before you speak. “were you watching me sleep?”
your question is still drawled as you tease him, barely awake but you can still see the way it makes him jolt slightly — like he’s been caught in a daze as the tips of his ears sting with a blush. “no” but his reply is too quick, followed by a tsk while he’s suddenly looking everywhere but at you with a pout on his lips that only seems to lure you closer.
you giggle as you press yourself into megumi’s side, humming at the grumpy expression on his face because you still think it’s cute the way he lets you climb all over him. “what? i think it’s cute.” he softens at that, slightly as his eyes dart quickly to look at you before they’re gone again.
you let the silence settle for a few moments before you feel his arm reach to wrap gently around your waist, securing you against him before he clears his throat to finally say something. but his gaze remains on the ceiling. “i wasn’t staring..” he begins before he gives you another quick look, “.. you, you just made a sound, i was checking on you.”
you hum at megumi’s little excuse as your press your cheek into his shoulder, failing to hide the way your lips are starting to stretch into a grin that he notices before his brows furrow slightly. “hm? you looked happy about it.” you tease again and you feel his fingers squeeze at your waist slightly as he breathes out a long sigh and curls you closer.
“shutup.”
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✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI
on the rare occasions itadori seemed to wake up before you, you were never far behind — mostly because he couldn’t seem to wait too long without you. so you always seemed to find yourself woken up by a few messy kisses, pressed quickly into your cheeks, then your neck, then your nose until you’re pushing him away playfully at the way they tickle your skin.
“yuuji! i’m awake..” you huff out as your overgrown boyfriend leans his weight over you, like a giant puppy licking his owner awake in the morning as he sends you a bright grin. you always thought it was cute how pretty he still seemed to be in the mornings, even when his hair is messy and it’s barely 8am— there’s still a soft sort of glow in his eyes when they meet yours.
“morning!” itadori replies, his voice is lower than normal but he still handles you softly despite how tightly he wants to wrap you in his arms. but he was warm, sort of like sunshine and you think you quite enjoy the moments when you get to wake up under the sun.
“do you wanna get breakfast?” you ask softly and you swear you feel your boyfriend squeeze you tighter at that. but your arms wrap around him and he doesn’t think anything is gonna be as good as the feeling of you against his chest right now.
“five more minutes, babe. i wanna cuddle a little longer.” itadori’s words are muffled when he speaks them into your skin, continuing where he left off on his onslaught of kisses as he peppers them across your features. across your cheeks, along your jawline and down your neck until he’s pressing you into your pillows and groaning when you scratch your fingers through his hair.
but you accept, even though in five more minutes you know it’ll be ten.
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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screampied · 27 days
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can you do soft sukuna after an argument vegas for fluff pretty please i think we deserve it after all you've done to us
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ MAYBE I’M THE PROBLEM﹒⺡ SUKUNA RYŌMEN. ’
sum. gn! reader, angst with c-comfort, he’s a softie at heart, fluff, petnames, ty lucy for beta'ing <3
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“what’s with you today?” sukuna furrows his eyebrows, and he lightly grabs your wrist. you face him only to briefly look away with a stubborn scowl. “you didn’t have to do that. i can take care of myself.”
he was referring to earlier…how careless you were, at least from his perspective. throwing yourself in danger just for sukuna. perhaps it was stupid, but at that particular moment—you didn’t have a thought that crossed your mind.
“well, i did,” you mumble, and sukuna bites his tongue from the inside of his cheek. his nostrils flare before he grabs your shoulders.
“what are you not getting? and if you died trying to protect me, then what?” and for a brief moment, it was dead silence. you stared at sukuna, and you can’t remember a time he looked like this. sukuna was … scared. the more you looked into his dark eyes, once full of arrogance and wit — instead, his pupils dilated and widened. his thumbs gently pressed into your skin, and then he continues to speak. “how can you even be calm about something like that?”
“i wouldn’t have to do things like that if you’d just be more careful,” you chastise, a sudden wave of gloom spraying over you. sukuna kept pausing every few seconds, as if he was carefully thinking of what to reply with.
sukuna’s almost got a glare before he sighs. “i told you. i can take care of myse—”
“no, you can’t sukuna. you know how many times you’ve almost died? the countless days where i’d be worried sick about you. if anyone’s reckless, it’s you. and you wonder why i act like this, it’s because i’m in love with you, you idiot.”
you don’t even register your words, it’s as if you’ve been yearning to get that out for ages.
sukuna grows mute, trying to figure if he actually heard what he’d just heard. you…you were in love with someone like him?
the awkward silence was deafening, a single tear strolls down your cheek before sukuna’s face suddenly softens.
he brings a thumb up to your cheek, swiping the tear aside before muttering in a raspy, “you love me?”
“i thought it was pretty obvious,” you grumble, avoiding his eye contact. your heart ached, never in your life have you felt this vulnerable. saying it out loud made you flustered immensely quick. a soft smile goes against his lips — you didn’t answer his question, but he knew the answer. you loved sukuna. “but whatever.”
“oi. don’t ‘whatever’ me,” sukuna mutters, cupping both sides of your face. he has you stare right into his eyes, the eyes where most see a cruel person, you see the softest eyes imaginable. reserved only for you. “look at me,” and you finally meet his gaze, a smug grin slowly tugs against the corners of his mouth. “you’re in love with me.”
a weird tingly feeling crept up inside your stomach, and you give sukuna a glare. “you know,” he keeps speaking, a soft finger stroking your cheek. “instead of almost dying for me, you could have been normal and just said, ‘i love you’.”
“…shut up,” you grumble, entirely abashed. he found it cute seeing you like this. in the midst of your mini tantrum - sukuna hums to himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“hmpf. well, i suppose i love you too, brat,” he utters, watching your face briefly light up at his words. sukuna saying it back couldn’t have made your heart swoon even more, but it did. “and i’m sorry for being so careless.”
you felt butterflies collide inside your tummy before you blink, ears perking at his first initial words and you pout. “you suppose?”
sukuna looks down at you with before he awkwardly pats your head. “i … love you,” his voice was a mere soft rasp. studying his stare, sukuna started to grow a tad bit embarrassed. even more than you. as his fingers softly roam through your hair, he leans up close to your face and scoffs. “happy now?”
“i love you more,” you smile, feeling more relieved. he’s taken aback once you hug him. sukuna’s always been so stiff at something as simple as a hug. your frame held his waist tightly, and he’d never admit it but it was adorable.
sukuna scowls. “…. you’re squishing me.”
“shut up and hug me back.” you sigh, only taking this as an opportunity to squeeze him tighter. he was so warm.
usually…sukuna wouldn’t let anyone get this close, yet alone do this. a simple affectionate hug.
he groans, slowly wrapping his arms around you. “you’re so annoying,” and as your head rests against his chest — you look up at him, a soft smile going against your lips. “pain in my damn ass.”
“talking about your ass isn’t romantic, ‘kuna.” you raise your brows . . . obviously kidding, but he groans.
with an eye roll, sukuna does the unexpected and pulls you up close towards his face. with a perplexed grin, you watch as he grabs you into a chaste kiss. it takes you by surprise, your hands remain flat and still before you wrap your arms around him. sukuna’s soft with you, you made him soft—and he hated it, but a tiny part of him secretly loved it too.
abruptly, he pulls the kiss away before glaring at you. “i love you.”
“i love you too, kuku.”
“…..call me that again and see what happens.”
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krkiiz · 3 months
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sly swordsman . luke castellan x reader
luke decides to distract you by confessing in the middle of a duel
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luke castellan x f!reader , reader is the daughter of apollo , luke being head over heels , confessions , fluff , slight teasing
note : sorry if there are lots of mistakes, i wrote this on my phone with nail extensions and it’s so hard to type pls help 😭😭 apologies for grammars n errors, i’ll edit them tmrw hehe (also this is my first time writing pjo n fight scenes so i hope it’s decent!)
let me know your thoughts ! likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3
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“Let’s go Kayla! Beat his ass!” Shout one of your fellow half-siblings along with boos from the opposing side.
Clanking of swords can be heard from miles away. Today the children of Hermes and Apollo are scheduled to a joint swordsmanship practice. Where the two cabins will have to engage on a 1v1 duel against another.
Right now stands in the center of the battlefield is your half sister Kayla, along with one of Hermes’ son. Kayla is known to be a skilled archer just like any of Apollo’s children. But that doesn’t mean she can’t beat the swift son of Hermes.
The battle ends her sword pointed right at his throat as he gives a sign of defeat to his opponent. The children of Apollo cheers with glee as they congratulate their half sister.
The two retreat, their places soon replaced by none other than their head counselors. Luke and you approach the center of the battlefield as your fellow half-siblings watch in anticipation.
It is so secret that Luke is an outstanding swordsman. As his skills rivals Ares and Athena’s children themselves, you knew he was a challenging opponent.
Well that’s a good thing you love challenges.
“I admit my defeat on our archery battle last week. But now, let me show you how good I am with the blade, Yn.” He smirks as the two of you start circling one another.
“Must’ve hurt your ego, Castellan.” A chuckle left your lips like honey and Luke suppresses the butterflies swarming in his stomach.
“Let’s see how good you really are, Son of Hermes.”
The two of you got in your positions, fingers tightly gripping on the sword and the shield, waiting for a sign to charge.
The hornet blows and Luke wastes no time to charge forward. The point of his blade almost piercing the epidermis of your skin before you block him with your own sword.
Luke knows better than to underestimate you. Sure, you are the daughter of the god of Archery, not swordsmanship. But everyone knows that you are an outstanding dancer and you treat the battlefield like it is your stage.
Your movements swift and laced with elegance. It’s always extremely difficult to predict your next moves. Your footing carefully calculated as you deflect all of his upcoming attacks.
Luke is also quick to encounter your offense as he blocks the side your blade that was aiming at his neck.
With such close proximity, Luke can see how the sun compliments your e/c irises. Complimenting every contrast and detail of the pupil.
Gods were your eyes always this beautiful? Were you always this beautiful?
Luke feels himself caught in a trance just for a second before earning back his composure. But one second is enough for you trip his leg leading him to fall right on his back as he looses his grip on his sword.
The sides of your blade nearly makes contact with his neck as you lay above him giving him a look of triumph.
“Yn, have I told you how beautiful you look on top of me right now?” The boy starts causing you to roll your eyes and scoff at his antics.
“Yeah, try again because that’s not going to work on me, Luke.” You press the blade against his adam’s apple causing him to wince slightly.
The crowd wonders on what was happening and why hasn’t Luke gave a sign of defeat knowing well that being under your sword doesn’t give him a good chance at winning.
They fail to see how his right hand is slowly reaching discreetly trying to get ahold of his fallen blade.
Luke lets out a lighthearted chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours. “I like you, Yn. Let’s go on a date.”
Now this caught you off guard. “What?”
The sly swordsman took your state to his advantage as he unclasps his knee from your hold and flipped your positions, your sword disregard in the process.
With his blade firm in his right hand, now it’s his turn to reside his sword against your neck, just like you did to him a few seconds ago.
You try fighting back but he just tuts and starts applying more pressure to his blade before you finally give the sign of defeat.
The Hermes cabin roared with glee congratulating their win, knowing that their head counselor will never fail them.
Luke quickly stands his ground giving you a helping hand, in which you accepted with a smile. He pulls you up against him, the sudden movement made you loose your footing but he’s quick to steady you with his free hand placed on your waist.
“So, about that date.”
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©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023
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ellemj · 2 months
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Flustered: Part 2 (FINAL)
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT
Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.
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Summary: You might be able to fuck away a crush but you can't fuck away an obsession.
Warnings: profanity, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), kinda threat with a belt in the bedroom but nothing happens, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 3.9k
A/N: I hope this meets some expectations lmao, I get nervous when the first part of a series or two-part thing gets a lot of attention. Also to the people who have randomly tipped me, BLESS YOU 🥹🖤 I actually cry a little when I get those notifs.
Fucking someone, anyone but you, is what Bucky needs tonight. It’s what he’s needed every night since he met you honestly, but especially tonight. The dangerous game that the two of you have been playing has left Bucky with a feeling similar to that of climbing Mount Everest. The longer the climb goes on, the harder it gets for him to breathe. God, it feels like his lungs are trapped at a high altitude every minute that he’s around you at this point. So, Bucky will be skipping the monthly team game night to fuck a girl he met two days ago.
He pulls his leather jacket over his arms and shoves the key to his bike in his pocket as he gives himself one last look in the mirror. The tiniest seed of doubt presents itself in his mind as he meets his own gaze in the mirror. Fucking someone else won’t fix this. Fucking someone else might put a crush out of one’s mind…but this is more than a crush. As Bucky stands there, staring at himself, the realization comes crashing in like a damn freight train running off of its rails. This is obsession.
If Bucky’s breathing can be compared to the struggle of oxygenation at a high altitude, then your breathing can be compared to taking one’s first natural breath after a successful lung transplant. Every time you say something to get under his skin, every time you watch his smirk fall away and his chest rise and fall a little faster, you suddenly feel like you’re standing outside, taking in a breath of cool, crisp autumn air. The dirty little game between the two of you is simultaneously ruining Bucky’s life and giving you life.
________________
         “Hey, you’re staying for game night?” Sam’s voice rings out as Bucky steps into the main living area, where the entire team is gathered both on the couch and the nearby floor. The entire team except for you, he notices, as he scans the group.
         “I have somewhere to be.” Bucky answers gruffly, coming to stand next to the end of the couch where Sam sits.
         “Hot date?” Sam jokes, giving him a quick once-over. As soon as he sees the leather jacket, he knows he’s either taking the bike out to wherever he’s going, or he’s going on a mission. Sam is positive it’s the former, because if it was the latter, he’d know about it.
         “Always.” Bucky says with a smirk, shoving Sam’s shoulder. As the rest of the team begins chatting amongst themselves, Bucky catches himself looking around for you. Are you out tonight? Do you have a date? Bucky’s jaw clenches as he briefly envisions you dressing up for your trainer and sitting down to have a meal with him. You had better fucking not.
         “Heading out?” The unexpected sound of your voice breaks Bucky out of his moment of mental weakness and he turns around quickly, coming to face you. You must’ve been in your room, he thinks, since you came from the direction of the hallway. Of course his obsessive mind would assume that you went out with the piece of shit who thinks you’re as fragile as a damn butterfly. “That’s too bad, I was really looking forward to kicking your ass tonight.”
         “Oh, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Bucky says calmly, staring into your eyes as the room grows quiet.
         “But I thought—” Sam begins repeating Bucky’s earlier claim that he had somewhere to be, but he’s quickly cut off by Bucky shooting him a look that says something along the lines of say one more word and watch what happens. “Oh, right, your date is tomorrow night, not tonight.” Sam recovers with a lie. After one look at you, Bucky abandoned his plan to fuck away his feelings. You brush past him to take a seat on the floor by the coffee table, and as your arm collides with the fabric of his leather jacket, all he can think about is the image of a freight train careening off the rails and going up in a fiery blaze. Obsession. His obsession with you is going to be his undoing, he’s sure of it.
______
          The team game night was significantly more intense than normal with both you and Bucky being present. Well, it wasn’t just the fact that you were both in attendance for once. It was the fact that you were both so set on showing one another up. The entire night basically turned into a cut-throat duel, with cards and game pieces instead of knives and guns.
         You stand in the living area alone now, stacking up all of the game boxes on the coffee table as you listen to the soft sound of the kitchen faucet running. After all of your back and forth arguing and shit-giving, you and Bucky were forced to take the cleanup duty yourselves, as restitution. You thought Bucky would continue on with the act once everyone went their separate ways for bed, but you were utterly surprised when he offered to take the kitchen cleanup and leave you only to handle the games. It was as if whatever competitive, teasing switch he had that had been turned on all night was suddenly turned off once he had you alone.
         Bucky rinses off the last dish in the sink, watching intently as the suds run down his vibranium fingers and into the drain. With every dish he washed, he imagined his obsession going down the drain with the suds. It was almost therapeutic, until he sensed you stepping into the kitchen behind him. He stiffened instantly as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
         You stand still as Bucky turns off the faucet and sets the final clean dish in the drying rack. You don’t really know why you decided to approach him. You could’ve gone to bed once you finished putting the games away, but your feet carried you in the opposite direction. So, now here you are, staring at the defined muscles of his back through his taut shirt.
         “What’s up with you?” You ask quietly, leaning back against the island a couple of feet behind Bucky. You realize you’re in similar positions as the night you figured out that he has a size kink, except you’ve switched places.
         “What do you mean?” He answers your question with his own as he towels his hands dry and turns around to mirror your position. He leans back against the front of the sink as he looks you over carefully. You’re suddenly entranced by the way he meticulously dries in every little crevice of his vibranium arm, as if he’s done it thoroughly a thousand times before, as if it’s a routine. When he notices you staring at the action, that familiar smirk returns to his face. “You don’t know how to act around me when I’m not fucking around with you, do you?” He asks in a near condescending tone. You narrow your eyes as you raise them to meet his gaze. When you don’t say anything in response, Bucky continues his work with the towel, warring within himself. He knows he shouldn’t keep going like this. He should leave right now and spend the night with any other woman underneath him so he can bury whatever it is that he feels about you. But the next words leave his lips anyway. “You miss it, don’t you? You can’t stand not having my attention, even for five minutes.”
         “Bullshit. You’re too damn cocky for your own good.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t make a move to leave the kitchen, and Bucky takes note of that.
         “And you’re a tease. Which is worse?” Bucky asks. He begins carefully folding the towel, slower than you’ve ever seen him do anything. You’re mesmerized by his hands.
         “I’m not a tease.”
         “Bullshit.” Bucky calls out, setting the towel on the countertop beside him.
         “I’m not.”
         Bucky exhales slowly as he pushes away from the sink and straightens up before you. The look he gives you sends an icy shiver down your spine.
         “Good girls don’t lie.”
______
         To you, the next two minutes were a blur. The only thing that registered in your mind was a brief, fleeting thought of not giving a fuck and punching Bucky in his smug face. Your legs had the right idea when they rushed forward, carrying you straight toward him, but the rest of your body betrayed you and somehow you ended up kissing him.
         Bucky didn’t even return your kiss at first. He stood there, completely stunned, as your soft lips met his. It took two seconds before his senses were able to convince his body that this was actually happening, and then he lost every ounce of control. The days of back and forth teasing, the innuendos, the lingering glance, it all came together like a pile of firewood and combusted right there in the kitchen. Bucky’s right hand tangled in your hair like it was instinct. As his palm connected with the nape of your neck, he gave your hair a gentle tug and earned himself a sweet moan that traveled from your mouth, straight into his.
         He was fucked.
         Now, Bucky’s heart is beating out of his chest as he watches you step into his dark bedroom in front of him. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears as he turns around and pushes the door shut, turning the lock into place and then taking a deep breath. Obsession. He has you in his fucking bedroom. He started out the night telling himself to go fuck another woman and now he has you right where he’s always wanted you.
         His room smells just like him. It’s dark, but not so dark that you can’t make out his neatly made bed and distinct lack of decor in the space. You’re suddenly aware of the reason why he never brings women here, always choosing to meet them elsewhere instead. The place could be mistaken for a hotel room, without a single personal memento or hint that a person actually lives here. You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you take in the new setting. When you turn around to face him, he’s leaning against the door.
         “You don’t have a single picture in here.” You point out casually, as if you didn’t just jump the man three minutes ago and then follow him to his bedroom for god knows what. Bucky keeps his eyes trained on yours.
         “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.
         “Among other things, yeah.” You admit, walking backwards until you feel the edge of his mattress against the backs of your knees. You sink down onto it, maintaining eye contact through the dark space around you.
         “Other things…” Bucky mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair and for a second, he almost looks unsure of himself.
         “You were so cocky just five minutes ago.” You tsk, shaking your head. “I didn’t expect Bucky Barnes, the ultimate man-whore, to have performance issues.” Your words could’ve gone in either one of two very different directions. You could’ve hit a sensitive spot of his and turned him off, or you could’ve brought out the side of him you’ve been seeing for days.
         “You talk so fucking big for someone so fucking small.” Bucky’s demeanor shifts, and suddenly the energy in the room is as charged as it was the day you sparred with him. You’re silent as he steps away from the door and starts undoing his belt with one hand. One. Fucking. Hand.
         “Bucky—”
         “No, you sit there and look pretty, don’t say a fucking word.”
         You close your mouth instantly, partially due to the shock of his boldness but mostly because when Bucky Barnes tells you what to do, with his hand on his belt, you’ll do it. You aren’t quite sure when your body decided to switch from always wanting to do the opposite of what he said to wanting to do everything he says, but you have a feeling it happened around the time he started praising you for the tiniest things.
         “That’s right, you can’t even help yourself, can you? You listen to me because you know it’ll get you what you want.” His voice is smooth and even. Any hint of hesitation has vanished. As he pulls his belt out of the belt loops, he glances down at the strip of leather in his hands. So many things he could do with it, he thinks. He steps even closer to where you sit at the foot of the bed and you swallow hard as you look up at him. Bucky’s mind is reeling. He remembers the way you looked up at your trainer in the gym that day, the way you smiled at him. He almost laughs thinking about how jealous he was of that. And now he has you like this. Bucky drops the belt on the bed beside you and then pulls his shirt over his head in one swift movement, dropping it on the floor beside your feet. As your gaze drops to take in the sight of his toned chest, the scars along his left shoulder, his godly abs, he smiles to himself.
         You feel the last dry fabric between your legs become wet when he hooks a finger under your chin and tilts it upwards, forcing you to look up at him once more.
         “Keep behaving, and I won’t touch that.” He says evenly, cocking his head in the direction of the belt. Bucky slowly drops to his knees in front of you, placing both hands firmly on your thighs. “Act up, and you’ll have two reasons why you can’t sit down tomorrow, instead of one.”
         When he talks to you like that, things either start moving in slow motion or they start fast forwarding. You find yourself flat on your back, with your legs hooked over his shoulders so suddenly that you aren’t sure if it happened in seconds or minutes. You aren’t even sure if you said a word, though the belt still lies on the bed beside you so you must’ve kept his command and stayed quiet.
         “You have no idea…” Bucky whispers as he kisses along your inner thigh. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to be between these thighs.” His admission sends blush to your cheeks and a shudder throughout your body. He raises his head for a moment and looks into your eyes. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that. Every time he makes eye contact with you, he’s pushed closer and closer to throwing every care out the window and fucking you like a goddamn animal. He focuses on your dripping cunt instead, finally giving himself the chance to admire it. Every time he breathes you feel it. When he presses his tongue flat against your entrance and begins to drag it up toward your clit, your back arches off the bed at the sudden contact.
         “Fuck.” You exhale the word sharply, letting your eyes flutter closed and your fists grip his bedding. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, you remember what he said. Don’t say a fucking word.
         “You taste so fucking sweet.” Bucky groans, breaking away from your cunt and pressing his forehead against your thigh to ground himself. “Shit.”
         Seconds later, Bucky is working his tongue all over you, into you, like he really has waited forever for this moment. His desperation and fervency only adds to the sensations between your legs, causing a knot to twist in your lower stomach at record speed. As soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, which you’re trying hard to keep pressed together, Bucky sucks on your clit and remembers what he told you to do.
         “Let me hear you, please.” He says just loud enough for you to hear, before diving right back in. In that moment, you can’t believe the filthy sounds that begin spewing from your mouth. Bucky eats up every single sound, every single swear, every single syllable of his name falling from your lips. His name. God, every time you moan his name, his cock twitches in his jeans and he loses another piece of his mind. When your back arches off the bed again and your thighs tighten on the sides of his head, he knows you’re right on the edge. That’s when he, without warning, flicks his tongue over your clit and slips two fingers inside of you. With a few thrusts and curls of his fingers against your walls, and his mouth’s unrelenting actions on your clit, you’re coming undone for him. “That’s it, cum for me.” He encourages you, practically finger fucking you right through your orgasm. “I knew you’d sound so fucking pretty when you cum.”
         You’re a limp, panting mess on his bed as he crawls over you, peppering your naked body with kisses all the way up.
         “Talk to me.” He coos, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as he waits for you to say something, anything.
         “That was…” You take a deep breath mid-sentence, trying to steady your voice. “You just…” You’re mentally kicking yourself for not being able to form a coherent sentence. You have no doubt that your loss of basic speech skills is only going to inflate his ego.
         “That was a fucking dream.”  He says softly, sucking on your earlobe and then moving to hover over you. He takes in the sight of you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are blown, and you’re struggling to catch your breath. It’s adorable. “Can you move up higher in the bed or do I need to move you myself?” He asks. At first, you think he’s joking, but when you look into his eyes you see that he’s dead serious. A moment later, you’re settling in with your head on his pillow as he stands beside the bed and strips every last shred of his clothes off. Though your eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, the shadows make it impossible to see Bucky’s fully naked form. It isn’t until he’s positioning himself back on top of you that you get the answer to the question that had been on your mind.
         “Oh my god, Bucky.” You gasp as his hard cock presses firmly against your thigh.
         “Hmm?” He knows exactly what you’re reacting to, and if you could see the smirk painted across his face right now you’d probably want to slap him.
         “It’s…you’re so big.” Your voice turns into a whisper. You’re sure you feel his cock twitch and a little bit of precum drip onto your thigh when the words leave your lips. Oh, right. Bucky’s size kink. It makes sense now. How could a guy with such a big dick not have a size kink? “It’s not going to fit.” You say assuredly.
         “Oh, it’ll fit. Remember what you said?” Bucky remembers what you said like it was five minutes ago. “I can take whatever you have to give me. You said that to me.” He reminds you.
         “I didn’t know—”
         “Oh, you knew.” He chuckles, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. He distracts you with ease, licking along your bottom lip and then letting it delve into your mouth gently, just as he grinds the head of his cock against your clit. You gasp into the kiss, which only encourages him to deepen it further. He starts rutting against you, dragging his cock back and forth between your folds with every movement of his hips. If he had it his way, he’d be fully sheathed within you right now, fucking you so hard you’d see stars.
         Bucky lets the head of his cock get closer and closer to your entrance with every rut of his hips, but he continues distracting you with his mouth. He fully intended to keep kissing you when he finally let his cock slide into you, but just as he notches inside of you and starts pushing in, he breaks the kiss.
         His lips hover within millimeters of yours as your pussy grips him and pulls him in deeper and deeper. You’re both open-mouthed, breathing into each other, looking into each other’s eyes as your bodies meld together. Obsession. It’s the only word on his mind as he watches your eyes squeeze shut while your legs spread all for him.
         He fucks you slowly at first, giving you time to adjust as he sticks to shallow thrusts. When your eyes open and you look up at him once again, he smiles down at you and picks up the pace, thrusting a little deeper as you start to focus on the feel of him. But when your name leaves his lips and you start scratching your nails down his bare back? He starts fucking you like he owns you. He fucks you as meticulously as he cleaned the crevices of his vibranium arm earlier.
         “Fuck, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky groans, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. “My cock is splitting you in half and you’re fucking taking it.” He can feel how close you are, and the absolutely cock-drunk expression on your face only confirms it. Your expression paired with the most sultry moans he’s ever heard have him following you right to the edge. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl, ready to cum all over my cock.”
         “Bucky, if you keep talking like that—fuck.” He only speeds up when you start talking, convinced that if you’re still talking, he’s not fucking you hard enough.
         “Shut the fuck up.” He groans, hating the way those few simple words from you nearly made him blow his load. “Shit.” Bucky hooks your legs around his waist and pulls your arms away from his back, pinning them down on the bed on either side of your head. He doesn’t have to say another word for you to know what he’s doing. He’s fucking you until you can’t do anything, until you can’t say anything, until all you can do is cum for him.
         Your orgasm is uncontrollable when it comes crashing in, making your back arch off of the bed and your bare chest press against his as you cry out his name.
         Bucky’s orgasm? Bucky’s orgasm was so much more uncontrollable that it didn’t even cross his mind to pull out and cum anywhere except inside of you. He pushed so deep inside of you when he started cumming that you swear you felt the heat of it in your stomach. Even when you were both finished, he just couldn’t stop thrusting in and out of you.
         “Good girl, such a good girl.” He kept whispering against your neck as he rutted into you, using his own cum mixed with your wetness as lube.
         As he collapses on top of you, your hands immediately move in two different directions. One begins tangling in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, while the other goes to caress his back with the softest touch. Only one word surfaces in your mind as you listen to his heavy breathing and focus on the feel of his skin against yours.
         Obsession.  
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polarisjisung · 2 months
Text
KISSES WITH NCT DREAM
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pairings: nct dream × fem! reader
genre: fluff
warnings: mentions of giving hickeys (for jeno) + reader is implied to have long(ish) hair + use of pet names
notes: a little different to usual but i want to post more often and I love reading these little headcanons! although I do need to switch it up from all the fluff 🫠
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MARK-cozy morning kisses:
mark loves lazy mornings, holding you by the waist to make sure you don't have a chance to escape the warmth of the duvet you're all wrapped up in. sure your hair's a little messy but mark loves the domesticity of waking up next to you. you'll make every attempt to make your way out of the confines of your shared double bed but mark ultimately wins, shutting you up with a kiss when he feels like you're talking too much
"mark baby, please I have work" mark could not care less— really, they should've made it illegal to work weekends
"you have a boyfriend too" he'd tuck the hair falling from your ponytail behind your ear and you're a sucker for the way he'd let his palm rest over your cheek as he pulls you into his chest underneath the covers
"markie, I'll get fired" you know you'd lost the battle the second mark let his eyes land on your lips, the ones that were still shining from the left over lip mask you'd applied the night before, but you still try to bolt out of the covers as fast as you can, undoubtedly you'll get pulled back in by mark just a few seconds later
"don't run from me baby" he's all pouty, you know its all just a facade to get a couple extra minutes in bed with you but saying no to mark just wasn't one of your capabilities
when you finally sigh in defeat,
"just 5 minutes" with a roll of your eyes, he's peppering sweet kisses all over your face, placing a couple pecks on your lips too
"I'll take 5 minutes"
best believe he'll take a lot more than just 5
RENJUN-stupid adorable smiley kisses:
kisses with renjun start out ever so gentle, a quick touch of your lips before he's checking to see your reaction. doesn't matter how long you've been dating, renjun still gives you butterflies every damn time, and he's the same with you, all giddy and kicking his feet, so you both start out so smiley against each other's lips, soft and sweet. on occasion renjun likes to go for deep, more meaningful passionate kisses, and the second you see his starry eyes staring up at you, grin formed into a soft smile, you know his hand is going to reach for your jaw and his lips are going to move rushed against yours
there's a sparkle in his eyes, a glint that tells you renjun won't stop at a few pecks— naturally you don't mind at all
"my love?" he coos, looking up at you, taking in your features as though he's trying to commit every detail of your pretty face to memory, your moles, the shape of your lips and your sparkling eyes, he would memorise it all in that very moment
you swear he looks at you as though you've painted the sky and hung the stars, and every time you catch yourself wondering what you've done to be lucky enough to deserve him
"I love you" as those words slip so effortlessly out of his lips, he'll guide you with a hand against the back of your head to meet his lips again, with more urgency this time
"I love you too" you'd breathe out, an oppurtunity you'd never miss
JENO-neck kisses
jeno loves your lips, kisses, pecks, full on make out sessions— he doesn't mind. but every time he finds your hair tied back and your neck on display he sees it as the perfect chance to show that you're absolutely not single, very much taken in fact. jeno finds joy in carving his initials into your neck or leaving small, unintentional patterns behind sucking and gently biting at the warm skin on your neck. the kisses eventually trail their way up across the bone of your jaw, his hands tugging at the ends of your hair as he twirls it between his fingers. jeno wants it all, quick kisses will do if you're out and about but the second you're home, kissing is at least a 20 minute task.
when you're out, be it hanging out with friends or running errands together, especially in the summer, when you like to tie your hair back a lot more frequently, jeno finds himself going absolutely feral, he's like a child begging his mother to go home
your back is against the wall the second you step through the door, jeno's lips impatiently capturing yours. he's a literal animal, he'll devour any lipstick you're wearing like it was never even there, before his kisses land on your collarbone.
"knew what you were doing when you tied your hair up baby hmm?" jeno likes to think you do it on purpose, to mess with him just a little, admittedly you do, but if you could be honest it had been solely unintentional this time
"come on jeno" your hands land on his chest, almost avoiding the hungry search of his lips for the skin of your neck "didn't know you were so needy"
you like to tease him, his cute agitated kisses becoming a little more intense at your words
equally jeno finds no shame in just how crazy he is for you
"needy for you baby, only you"
something about his urgency mixed with his loyalty forces you to forget about the hickeys you'll spend hours covering up over the next few weeks
HAECHAN- tip of your nose kisses:
haechan loves a makeout session as much as the next person, and despite his forward and bold attitude, sometimes the hard-core kisses just aren't what he's looking for. his favourite solution? kissing the tip of your nose, he likes booping your nose here and there as it is, but in his softest moments, where you find his eyes staring your way in pure awe, haechan's eyes travel to the tip of your nose immediately. it doesn't take long for his lips to follow— a tentative kiss to make sure you're in the mood to be absolutely bombarded with his love
forehead kisses are a close second, and eventually haechan gives in to delicate tender kisses on your lips, his fingers interlaced with yours
"have I ever told you I love you?" kisses with haechan are playful, so you can always tell he's in the mood when that adorable toothy grin shines it's way at you
"multiple times hyuck, every day actually" you'd respond, so giggly that he swears he's falling in love with you all over again, he's not sure if it's possible quite frankly, considering he thinks the same thought everyday
"that's what you deserve baby, I love you" he'd waddle his way over to you on the sofa, that smirk on his face that tells you everything you need to know— the kiss lands perfectly in the centre of your nose, your face soon hidden away in your hands
"don't get shy on me now baby, you know what I wanna hear" he's already trying to get another look at your pretty eyes and when he successfully gets your hands to slide down your face, places a chaste kiss to your forehead
"I love you too hyuck"
"can't hear you buttercup, you're gonna have to show me that pretty face so I can lip read" he's a little too proud of his words, and when you do let your hands down, his lips are all over yours
JAEMIN-lip gloss kisses:
jaemin is a sucker for those shiny, perfect glossy lips of yours, he's a sucker for you full stop, but your lips are practically a superpower.
now jaemin hates strawberries but that pretty pink lip gloss of yours with a little shimmer and that strawberry scent is his absolute favourite, he swears it makes your eyes pop 10x more it's perfect— you're perfect
he loves showering you with affection, be it hugs or kisses, holding your hand or whispering sweet nothings into your ear, jaemin treats you like an absolute princess and when his princess is all dressed up and so absolutely gorgeous, he can't help but ask for one thing for himself. not that jaemin doesn't love seeing you lounging around casually, he thinks you look gorgeous all the time, but seeing the confidence that oozes from your being when you're ready for a big event has his stomach doing backflips
his arms wrap around your waist quicker than you can twist the tube of your lip gloss shut— really there was no point going through your extensive lip combo routine because you should've known jaemin would eat it all up
"my sweet sweet girl, do you think I could have a kiss?" jaemin likes to get extra affectionate in these moments, clinging to you with a smile that reaches his eyes, just to make sure there's no way you can say no
"but nana my lip gloss" you're always trying to make excuses, really it was just because lip products were starting to get expensive, but you don't mind blowing more money on them if it meant you'd have a love like jaemin
"hmm, I'll buy more for you, just give me a kiss pretty please?"
you only make one more attempt at stalling, you know better that you're not winning this battle
"but nana it'll get all over you"
he shrugs, so unbothered you swear you hear your heartbeat ring in your ears
"I like it like that"
jaemin loves the way you tenderly hold his face before you seal his lips in a kiss, when you pull away his lips are glittery and pink just like yours, but his smile seems to have grown ten fold
"you look so pretty nana, my princess" he nods
"your princess, all yours" before locking your lips against his once again
CHENLE-spiderman kisses:
chenle loves the movie, chenle loves you, to him it just made sense and the spiderman kiss has easily become his favourite way to greet you as he walked through the door.
most days chenle would find you seated on the couch, finishing up a project for work when he'd get home, his hand would wrap under your chin and slightly over your neck with ease, lips locking with yours momentarily
"I missed you" he'd whisper, every time as he pulled away from you, placing his things down to a side and slipping into the empty space beside you. his arm would find its rightful place resting over your shoulder before his lips would brush over yours again
"I missed you too"
the both of you would bask in the warm intimacy of the moment, something between you, only for you, that the both of you would secretly look forward to day in and day out
to chenle that was enough, that daily welcome home kiss was practically routine and it was a routine he'd grown used to, practically to the point where when he'd walk in and you weren't working away at a desk or on the sofa, anywhere he could easily guide your head backwards and press his lips to yours, the rest of his day would be ruined
dramatic, would be the best way to describe a kiss deprived chenle
JISUNG-hand kisses:
to jisung kisses are one of the truest levels of intimacy, they come with philosophical and ethical discussions and debates, prophesies of where the universe might be heading in ten years or why you shouldn't take things in life for granted
jisung liked to think, and he appreciated being able to share and discuss his thoughts with you, to him that seemed like one of the purest forms of love, being unashamed to share even the most wild and crazy theories with each other
he admired your passion, the way you'd get lost between your own thoughts, in your own world as you explained a concept to him, one of the many reasons jisung loved you, and in those moments a press of his lips to the knuckles of your hand, already intertwined with his, seemed perfect, like the cherry on top
"I think it's crazy how we don't realise so much of what goes on around us" you're sharing one of those moments of yours again, when you feel like you'd noticed something that made a big impact on your point of view in life and jisung can't help but let that gummy smile flash over his lips, his thumb rubbing up and down the outer surface of your hand
it's beautiful to him, how your legs are laying over his and how you rest your head against his chest and his fingers rake through your hair while you find yourselves in this moment, for a second jisung stops listening, or at least attentively so, trying to take in this fleeting moment of what he thought was the most important part of loving someone
"sung, you seem out of it?" you'd ask the question so concerned, despite a little guilt that he hadn't been able to listen to you, jisung would smile softly and shake his head
"just thinking about how lucky I am to have you"
and his hand would lift yours, quickly pressing a feathery kiss to your knuckles
"I love you" he'd say, a phrase he didn't say often, scared it would lose its meaning, but one he'd say just enough that you'd known how much you meant to him
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helaelaemond · 6 months
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Honey on my Tongue - Aemond x reader
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x betrothed reader
Summary: You’ve been betrothed to Aemond, and he has shown little interest in you during your engagement. It hurts so much, for your heart yearns for him. You can't hold it back any longer
Slightly possessive Aemond. Suggestive situations.
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
"Would my lady care to dance?"
You look at the hand held out to you, and glance up at Prince Aegon. He grins down at you, and you take his offer graciously. "Thank you, my prince."
Next to him, the princess watches you curiously, and opposite her, your betrothed, Prince Aemond, keeps his one eye fixed on his brother.
"I think we have an audience," you say quietly, smiling.
"Just as I like," Aegon jokes. His hands are sure against you as you begin the simple dance, stepping in time to the music. At every opportunity, he presses himself closer than is proper. It should bother you - but at least you're getting attention from one prince.
"I do wonder about you sometimes," you tell him when steps bring you closer.
Walking in the correct steps around you, Aegon flashes you another grin. "I am on your mind often, then?"
You can't help but roll your eyes. "When you say things like that, a certain curiosity is sparked."
"And is that a curiosity you wish to be satisfied?"
The wine they serve in the Red Keep is stronger than you're used to, and with it brings a boldness that is also foreign. "Is curiosity the only thing you can satisfy?"
He laughs loudly. "Gods, I am sure you think about that often! Should your curiosity ever grow too great to bear, you come and find me."
"And what of your wife?"
Taking your hand, he glances over your shoulder at sweet Helaena, and shrugs. "What of her?"
"How often do you dishonour her?"
"Where there is no love, there is no dishonour. Perhaps you would do well to remember that."
You raise your eyebrow at his implication. There is mirth in his pretty eyes. "Do you think I am destined for an arrangement where love will not flourish?"
Again, Aegon holds you closer than is proper, and his lips are closer to your ear. "My brother is a warrior and a scholar, not a lover. How warm can steel be in a marriage bed?"
There is a tightness in your chest at his words. Perhaps he means only to be charming, to be suggestive, or perhaps he is deliberately cruel. But it is not the elder brother who gives you butterflies. You glance over at your betrothed, and the ice of his glare makes you shiver.
"My lady?" Aegon asks. You've stopped dancing.
"Ah. My apologies, my prince. I think the wine is stronger than I am used to."
"All the better," he answers quietly, and he winks at you. "Should you desire oblivion this night, come to my chambers."
Your face is close to his, and you smile up at him. "I think not, my prince. Perhaps your hand is more curious than I."
Why did you say that? What in the world made you say that? His jaw hangs open in shock at your boldness, and a blush spreads across your cheeks and down your neck. You return to the table where Aemond and Helaena are sat, and where their mother and grandfather talk together quietly.
"Please excuse me, my queen, my Lord Hand. I think I might retire for the night."
Queen Alicent looks at you, and then at Aegon behind you, her eyes wide and searching. "Are you well, my dear?"
"Just a slightly sore head, Your Grace. Nothing a good sleep will not remedy."
Her smile is tight. "Do not hesitate to send for the maester should you need him. Sleep well, my dear."
You curtsey, and turn to do the same in Helaena and Aemond's direction. "My princess, my prince."
Helaena smiles at you, and Aemond's face is as cold as before. You sweep past Aegon on your way to the door, and ignore how he tries to reach for your hand as you pass him.
Out in the corridor, you lean against the cool stone wall, and try to hold back your tears. The soldiers either side of the hall doors keep their gazes forward. You clamp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stay silent. How much distaste looked at you with pierces you.
Since you met him, you have felt a draw to him. Sometimes, you have even managed to make him smile enough to laugh. Each time, the queen had looked so pleased. He doesn't seem to laugh often, but you bring that out in him. What a prize. And then, other times, he barely pays you any mind. He doesn't strike up conversations with you unless you speak first. He doesn't invite you to dance.
Those moments with him are precious to you. To him, they don't seem to matter in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Aegon throws himself at you like a whore. Perhaps, one day, you'll take him up on the offer - if for no other reason than to feel something. To close your eyes under his touch and imagine Aemond. Anything is better than this loneliness, surely.
You have to get out of here. As weak as your legs feel, you overcome the desire to crumple, and quickly, you begin walking down the corridor towards your rooms. Until you are married, your rooms are far from the royal quarters - quite a trek through the maze of the Red Keep. The doors to the hall where you have just had dinner with the royal family swing open and then closed, and footsteps join yours.
"Wait!" a command is barked. "My lady."
You ignore the order. Your betrothed is not yet your lord husband - he does not command you. Well, as a prince, he does. But the tears have begun to stream, hot and thick, from your eyes, and surely that will disgust him.
"My lady!"
Even Prince Aemond's harsh voice brings butterflies to your stomach. His gait is far longer than yours. You won't disgrace yourself by running like a child from him, and so he quickly catches up with you. As you walk quickly, he matches his steps to yours.
"You have no respect, do you, my lady?"
Furiously, you wipe your cheeks. "I have respect."
"Then stop when you are commanded."
"The command itself is not respectful. I wish to retire."
"And I wish to speak with you."
The wine. Blame the wine. "That is quite unusual."
He grabs your arm and pulls you into a shadowy alcove. "Do you deliberately wish to displease me?"
You try to wrench your arm from his hold but he's too strong. "There is nothing deliberate about it, but it seems it is the only feeling I can inspire in you."
He stares at you through the shadows, his purple eye searching, cold, and his jaw set. "And here I had thought you were intelligent."
"Do you often think of me?" Your voice is laced with accusation.
"More than you know."
"I know nothing."
"On that much, we agree."
You try to pull out of his hold again, but his slender hand is impossibly strong, a vice around your bicep. "What do you want from me, my prince?"
"Dignity."
"What, pray tell, have I done that you deem undignified?"
His lip curls slightly. He pulls you closer to him. "You danced with him."
"He is your brother - it would be shameful to decline his invitation."
"And what of his other invitations? Do you accept those?"
Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "I know not of what you speak," you lie.
"He is a lecherous beast, not worthy of my sister, not worthy of-"
"Of whom?" you challenge.
His lips pull back over his teeth for a moment. The dim light makes shadows sharp across his angular face. Gods, he is beautiful. Even in rage, he is beautiful. And you do not fear him. You only fear his indifference. "You are my betrothed. I expect you to act as such."
"And how ought you act as my betrothed?"
"As I see fit," Aemond says, each word slow and deliberate.
"What of my expectations?"
He glares down at you. Gods, he's tall. It makes you weak. "What expectations do you have?"
"That my betrothed at least pretends to like my company."
That makes his spine straighten. The hand on your arm loosens slightly, and to your surprise, it trails up your shoulder and lightly touches your throat. It's impossible to breathe under such sudden tenderness. You can feel the callouses on his palm. "Pretend?" he echoes.
You nod stiffly. "I do not need to pretend. You know I enjoy your company. Too much, I think."
"Too much?"
"Don't. Do not do that."
Aemond's eye watches as his finger touches the base of your throat in the soft spot between your collarbones. It's where he gently feels your pulse. It's so quick. "Do what?"
"Do not pretend that you are unaware of my feelings."
"There is no pretence. I know not."
You push his hand away, although the touch has made your skin rise in goosebumps from your thighs to your scalp. "Then you are as blind with one eye than with none."
He snorts humourlessly. "Elucidate for me."
The wine, the wine, the wine. You shove his chest and he stumbles back, caught unawares. "I like you a great deal. And it agonises me that you do not feel the same. It is a humiliation!"
Swallowing thickly, Aemond's expression softens. "Aegon makes you laugh. I do not."
"Aegon is a fool, and makes me laugh as such. But I do not... I do not care... like I do... for..."
"You care?"
You could hit him, you really could. "If you could not tell by now, then we shall never make one another happy."
When you turn away to walk off, he catches you again, and suddenly he pulls you tight against his tall frame, and his arms are around your back, and his face is close to yours. "You make me laugh, my lady."
"I make many people laugh. You could make me a royal fool."
"Do not say such things," he hisses, anger flashing again. "You're my betrothed. Mine."
"I do not want to belong to you like a book or sword."
"Yes, you do." He leans down and whispers against your ear. "You are mine, and mine alone. I am sorry that you did not know that until now."
"Do you say this out of pride or love?" you ask, more bravery in your voice than you truly feel.
"My love is proud. And so too is my betrothed."
"Pride does not drive me, my prince. Only love."
"Do you love me?" he murmurs. It is good he is too close to look at. If he faced you, you would not have the strength to answer.
"I do."
"Not Aegon?"
"No."
He kisses under your ear. You whimper. His voice is so silky. "You will not dance with him again."
"Will I dance with you?"
"Every night until we are wed."
As he winds his arms tighter around you, you press a hand into his hair. "And once we are married?"
"We shall have no time for dancing. I shall have no mind for anything but possessing you."
"You want to possess me?"
He kisses your skin. "Entirely. For already, I am yours."
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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months
Text
marry me
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - Ace is completely and irrevocably in love with you and always wants your attention. he's so soft and loving. one day, he asks you to be his forever
warnings - none
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When Ace falls in love with you, everyone knows.
He is so smitten, following you around like a lost puppy and pining for your attention every second of the day. He's adorable to you, honestly, looking so cute when he pouts and demands you give him five kisses to make up for not giving him one when you were busy earlier.
"That was too quick!" He whines when you're done, and will lift you off your feet to keep you in his arms and stop you from going anywhere. You just giggle and indulge him, kissing him a few more times until he's satisfied.
He never is. He always wants to kiss you. If he could kiss you forever, he definitely would, and you laughed at the notion when he told you.
"Ace, how would we breathe?"
"We can take breaks to breathe," he nuzzled his face against your neck, his skin warm against yours. "But not too long. Maybe five seconds before I kiss you again."
The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was the only thing he ever wanted to hear, coupled with your smile and your beautiful eyes being the only things he ever wanted to see. Your laugh gave him butterflies, made his already warm insides burn hotter than the sun. He wanted to drown in the sound of you laughing at all his silly jokes and comments, and he loved being the one to make it come out so much.
"You're so funny, you know that?" You wheezed after spending ten minutes laughing at him tripping and falling on his face.
He just stood up and grinned, hat a little lopsided, "Glad to be of service." He then ducked into a low bow, and that sent you into another fit of laughter, his ears perking up. He could listen to that all day.
He especially loves it when he can make you smile while cuddling, warming up his body to just the right temperature. Your reaction, a blissful sigh and a content smile, is enough to make him happy to die right there in your arms.
"You're so nice and warm," you mumble into his neck almost every night, getting comfortable on his half-bare body. "I love your devil fruit ability. This is so so comfortable, I don't want to move." Your words sent him to heaven and back, and he would gladly let you lay on him for the rest of your lives.
And your massages-
Ace is a sucker for you straddling his hips as he lays on the bed on his stomach, just because it feels oh so good when you run your hands down his back and over his Whitebeard tattoo. It gives him the pleasant kind of shivers, and he absolutely melts under your touch. If you start to massage his shoulders and sore spots, he will be out like a light. He will enjoy it for a few moments, but your touch will soon send him into the best slumber he has ever had. And when he wakes up, you're still massaging him but you're looking a bit tired so he flips around and lays you down, spooning you as he buries his face in your hair.
"You're too good to me, you know," he'd mumble, smiling at the familiar and sweet scent of your hair.
You'd smile and put one of your hands over his on your waist, "That's because I love you more than you can imagine. I just want you to be happy, that's my biggest goal in life."
He almost cries right then and there, your words making his eyes gloss over, "I love you too. So, so much." And his grip on you tightens as he presses soft and sweet kisses to your back, your neck, your shoulders...anywhere he can reach. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me, I swear."
Ace follows you around like a lost puppy, always feeling the need to hold you or be touching you in some way. He is the clingiest boy ever, but you absolutely do not mind and in fact, you love it. Having him want to be touching you all the time is one of the best feelings in the world, and you remind him of that every single day.
"Ace, stop that! Let (Name) work!"
You giggle when Marco chides Ace for hanging onto you like a koala, "It's okay. I love it when he clings to me. He's so warm." Your words will have Ace blushing like mad, and he'd smile against your neck. Again, he almost cries at the fact that you need him to touch you just as much as he needs to be touching you. His grip inevitably tightens, and he spreads kisses all over your face - turning it towards him if he has to.
He even lets you wear his hat, a luxury only awarded to you and you alone. He likes how you look in it, always telling you that you're so cute when you wear it because it's so big and slips over your eyes so easily (and because it's a possessive thing and lets everyone know you're his). And you love wearing it, simply because it's his. It's him, essentially.
"Babe, you look so cute right now," he grins at you when he places it on your head one day while you're reading on your shared bed.
You look up at him from under the rim and smile shyly, "Thanks, babe." And Ace swears he could melt into a fiery puddle right then and there.
He tells you that you should wear it more often, so you do, and he almost dies from the cuteness and the happiness he gets from seeing you wear something of his. Literally, he almost fell overboard and drowned when you stole it from him one day at lunch.
Before long, Ace develops a different kind of desire, a different kind of need. He never thought he would ever feel it, but having you in his life has opened him up to so many things he never dreamed he would be able to have.
Ace wants to marry you.
He wants to make you his for eternity. He wants to make you his wife, and that title alone is enough to make him giddy with happiness. Just imagining being able to call you his wife has Ace soaring, and he knows that it's what he wants more than anything in the world. You make him happier than he ever thought he could be, and you show him so much love and affection that sometimes he feels like he doesn't do enough to reciprocate. But you constantly assure him he does. You're always there to reassure him, to relax him, to make him feel better about anything that might be worrying him, making him sad or hurt, or stressing him out. And he adores you for it.
"(Nameeeeeeeeee), my loveeeeeee!"
You hear him sing from down the hallway one day, turning just in time to see the fiery commander sprinting towards you with something in his hands. When he gets closer, you blush seeing the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. He stops in front of you, panting and out of breath (he ran all the way from the island the ship was docked by), and holds it out to you.
"For you," he gives you the goofiest but sweetest smile he can muster.
You take it slowly, already beginning to tear up, "Ace-"
"Wait, wait, that's not all," he grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. He is practically buzzing with excitement, and you wonder why, but you don't have to for long.
The entire crew has gathered on the deck, making a semi-circle around the center. A bunch of your favourite flowers were scattered in a circle, making a beautiful ring of (favourite flower)s that Ace stepped over with you and into. It was simple, but when he got down on one knee and pulled out a small black box, the look on your face made it all worth it.
"Ace-" You started, already getting emotional.
He smiled up at you, completely lovestruck. "(Name), I know this may not be the most elaborate proposal ever, but I was more excited about proposing than setting up," he admitted with a blush, making you and everyone else laugh. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and I know I say that everyday, but I will keep saying it everyday for the rest of our lives. You make me the happiest man alive, and being with you for as long as we have been together has been the biggest blessing in my life. I never thought I could want something as badly as I want to marry you, but I'm happy I do because I cannot and will not imagine anyone better to spend the rest of my life with. I love you so, so much, (Name), so will you do me the honour of marrying me?"
He was crying, but so were you. Tears were streaming down both your faces, but the smiles gracing your lips were enough for everyone to see that you were both just overwhelmed by love and happiness in that moment.
"Yes," you didn't hesitate to give your answer, beaming.
Ace grinned and slid the ring onto your finger, standing up to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against his body. Before you could ask where he got the ring from, he leaned down and kissed you so deeply and lovingly you forgot every single thought you had, arms sliding around his neck to steady yourself so you wouldn't fall over. Not that he'd let you, anyway. Loud cheers and whoops filled the air as you shared a passionate and affectionate kiss, and both of you were smiling so brightly when you pulled away that you were sure your cheeks would hurt when the day was done.
"I love you," he whispered, pecking your lips sweetly over and over.
"I love you too," you breathed, before laughing and smiling even more when he removed his hat to place it on your head.
And as you beamed up at him from below the tip of his hat that was too big for your head, Ace knew that he had no regrets. Your bright eyes peeking up at him from under the rim of the hat made him sure that this had been the best decision of his life, right after asking you out.
"My wife!" He grinned, suddenly remembering what he was so excited to call you. "My beautiful, beautiful wife."
You blushed, "Words cannot describe how much I love being called that."
"What?" He smiled devilishly, tugging you close again, "My wife? My beautiful wife?" He kissed all over your face, repeating the phrase 'my beautiful wife' over and over.
"Get a room!" Someone yelled, making you both laugh.
"That we shall," Ace took your hand, "But after the celebratory cake, of course."
You laughed as he said this, eagerly following him wherever he went, knowing you would gladly follow him anywhere, and he would follow you anywhere.
BONUS (because i am obsessed with idea of being called Ace's wife):
"LUFFYYYYYY!"
Ace was already screaming for his brother as soon as the Thousand Sunny was in sight. He was so excited to show you off as his wife, you thought it was the cutest thing in the world.
"LUFFYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
"ACEEEEEEEEEE!" Came the responding shout, making you laugh and face palm. These brothers.
When you and your husband boarded his brother's ship, Ace immediately ran over to him and gave him the biggest, tightest hug he could muster.
"I have a wife!!!"
Your cheeks heated up again, and you smiled at the sight of Luffy getting just as excited as Ace about it. Luffy ran to give you a hug as well, and you laughed and blushed as he told you that you were going to make the coolest sister-in-law.
And of course, Sanji was crying and Nami and Robin wanted to see the ring, which you happily showed them as you shot your husband a warm, loving smile.
You were finally Ace's wife, and it was the best feeling in the world.
Cue everyone referring to you as Ace's wife or Portgas D. Ace's wife from now on.
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a/n: this is officially my favourite fic that i've written, it turned out WAYYYY better than i expected. this man ❤❤❤
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dark-tides-in-faerun · 4 months
Text
Boiling Point (1/2)
Astarion x You!
Your party stumble across a hot spring in the wilds and agree to take turns bathing. It turns out, Astarion isn’t very good at taking turns but is more than happy to share…
🌶️mature🌶️ (fair warning that this chapter is just a little steamy but the next one will be very nsfw!)
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You lay on your back in the recently discovered hot spring, eyes closed, basking in the delicious warmth. If this wasn't heaven, you weren't sure what was. The moon lights up the little clearing you’re in, giving everything that it touches a lovely, silvery sheen, and you close your eyes and relax into it, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.
“Well, hello.”
You almost jump out of your skin.
“Astarion.” You gasp, spluttering up a lungful of water as you quickly sink lower beneath the surface, arms crossing against your chest in a bid to protect your modesty as you twist toward him. The water’s cloudy enough that he wouldn’t be able to see anything, but that knowledge does very little to make you feel less exposed. “What in the nine hells is wrong with you?”
“Nothing that a little dip couldn’t fix.” He quips, lounging against a rock, his face the picture of innocence and your eyes narrow as you notice he’s clutching a crimson towel in one pale hand.
“It’s not your turn.” You warn, narrow eyes meeting his as his carefully blank face looks back at you. You’d all agreed on a schedule for hot spring use and given that he’d already talked you into letting him steal all of your allocated time, it definitely wasn’t his turn.
“Oh, I know that.” He replies, the picture of unaffected grace as he looks at his nails and then back at you. “I just think it’s a little selfish of you to be… indulging yourself with so little regard for other people’s feelings.”
“Is it?” You say, slowly, and his lips quirk up in response. “Or is it a ‘little selfish’ to interrupt someone during the only time they’ve had to themselves in days. Especially when that person in question has already given up every other opportunity to bathe in the hot spring for you.”
“Yes, yes, that was very generous of you darling, but try to look at it from my perspective. You generate your own heat, but what about me? Do you know what it feels like to spend night after night in this frozen and miserable, knowing that there’s something warm and wet that I could sink myself into just meters away?”
His voice is innocent, but as his eyes drop to where your skin disappears beneath the water, the smile he gives you is anything but. It's obvious he’s trying to use your physical response to him to manipulate you, because he's always trying to do that and you flush, desire flooding to your core just as he intends it. But you're not just flushing because of the obscene way he's looking at you. It's because that smile has reminded you of how he looked when he returned from the springs last night. All pink skin and delighted exuberance. He’d been light, playful, exhilarated... Happy. And you knew enough about his past to know that happiness wasn’t something he’d known much of in his long life.
“Why can't you just go and bother someone else for a change.” You grumble, but the delighted shine in his eyes shows you that he knows he's getting his way and you scowl at him. “Gods give me strength. Turn around.”
“Why?” he asks, mouth blooming into a full smile and you can’t help the extra little flip your stomach gives at the sight of it.
“Because I’m naked and I’m not getting out with you staring at me. Turn around.”
“Darling, I’m hurt. Are you really suggesting we can’t share? There’s more than enough room for two.” He pouts, eyes shining as he stares down at you, sparkling with mischief and butterflies flutter to life in your stomach at the suggestion. You know he’s only trying to get a rise out of you but damn it, if it isn’t working. "Besides, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
You choke back a strangled laugh because it really wasn’t him you were worried about. The butterflies have gone into overdrive just from the suggestion, and you can feel the heat staining your cheeks a darker pink than the warmth of the hot spring. You stare up at him, eyes a little too wide, and he gives you a self-satisfied smile. You can see in his gaze that he expects you to balk. Expects you to surrender the hot spring and slink away with your pink cheeks and pounding heart.
Well fuck him.
You force a sweet smile, feeling a thrum of satisfaction at the slight widening of his eyes as instead of moving toward him you wade to the far edge and turn around. For a long moment there’s nothing and you wonder if he’s even still there.
“Well? Are you getting in or not?” You demand, proud that your voice is only a little shaky, and he lets out a laugh. You swallow, focusing on trying to keep your heart rate level as you hear the sound of rustling fabric and then the water ripples around you as he slips in behind you.
“You can look now, darling, I assure you I’m quite decent.”
You turn around and immediately regret not getting out when you had the chance.
There is nothing decent about the way he looks right now.
The moonlight floods the broad expanse of his naked chest, staining it an ethereal, shining white, and he looks like he was carved from marble. The steam from the water has already tightened the hair at the nape of his neck into little curls. He’s stark and beautiful in the silver moonlight, but it’s not even that, that’s most striking.
It’s his expression.
His eyes are closed, head resting against the grassy bank behind him and the little smile that plays at the edges of his lips is a million miles away from his usual shit-eating grin. It’s small and soft and decidedly content and you swallow. It’s the full force of the little smile you’d seen at camp. It’s true happiness, you realize and it makes your heart pound and ache in equal measure to acknowledge that you’ve never seen that particular smile before.
He shifts, lifting his arms from the water and resting them against the rocky edge of the pool, blinking up at you and that little smile dissolves into something darker. Water streams from his skin, running between the dips and crevices of his muscular biceps and you shrink into yourself a little, sinking into the water until just your chin hovers above it. There’s nothing you can do about your heart now, it’s pounding against your ribs like it wants to escape from your chest and his crimson eyes are fixed on you as you try your best to keep yourself in check.
“Happy now?” you ask, and though your voice is a little breathy you feel like the fact that you’ve even gotten the words out is a feat of heroic proportions.
“Very.” He replies closing his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at that. He looks more content than you’ve ever seen him and that thought triggers a reaction in you that’s so strong that you suddenly realize that you can’t stay here. He doesn’t deserve to be ogled like this, when he’s just trying to relax. From the little snippets he’s given you from his past he’s had enough of that to last several lifetimes.
You clear your throat and he opens his eyes again, one eyebrow raised questioningly you swallow, gesturing at him to swap places with you. He sits up at that, a surprised smile on his lips and you shake your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about your intentions.
“I’m going to leave you to it.” You say, your words only catching a little in your throat as he cocks his head to the side, looking at you thoughtfully.
“Leave me to what, exactly?” He asks, voice low and teasing, and heat rises beneath your cheeks as steam curls up in silvery tendrils around his chest.
“This. Warming up.” You manage, trying not to look at him as you edge your way around the to the other side of the spring, nearer to the grassy knoll, but you really need him to move out of the way if you want to make a graceful exit. “I’ll see you back at camp.”
“I can think of better ways to warm up.” He says, voice a little too innocent, and your gaze flicks to him before you can stop yourself. His eyes are fixed on you and the look in them is dark and predatory and you falter, heart in your throat. You’ve seen that look before, and you swallow as his gaze slips to your neck, the hunger in it apparent.
“I-I-“ you start, but your words die in your throat. The way he’s looking at you has melted your insides into a puddle of lust and your really, really need to get yourself under control. You take a breath. Blood. He means blood. You try to distract your pounding heart by thinking through the implications of what he’s asking. You’re no cleric, but surely bloodletting in hot water wasn’t the best of ideas... “Is it safe?”
He frowns at that, cocking his head to the side as if trying to work out your meaning and you swallow and touch your neck.
“Is it safe to feed in the water?” You say, again. He freezes for a second, and then some unreadable expression passes over his face before he quickly looks away. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have said it was disappointment.
“Of course.” He says, seemingly to himself, and when he looks up the expression has been swallowed up by his usual confidence. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I’ll take very good care of you.”
He holds out his hand and you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It’s not that you don’t trust him. If he says it’s safe you believe him, but you’re just suddenly very aware of your lack of clothes. You shift uncertainly, edging a tiny bit closer to him and a slow smile spread over his lips.
“I think you’ll find you need to be a little closer than that.” He says in a voice that spreads beneath your skin like treacle, and for the second time in one night you regret not leaving when you had the chance.
You shiver despite the heat as you place your hand in his and he wraps his pale fingers around yours, tugging you gently towards him. For one panicked second you think he's going to pull you onto his lap, but he stops when you're a few inches apart. You put your free hand on the grassy bank to steady yourself as he lifts your hand to his mouth, rotating it so that the soft skin of your wrist presses gently against his lips. He's fed from you before but, other than the very first time when he almost lost himself, he’s been almost clinical in his approach. Careful to only touch as much as he needs to.
This is not that.
You watch, dumbstruck, as his pink tongue slips out from between his lips to swipe a cool stripe across the overheated plane of your wrist. Your breath catches, a small hitch at the back of your throat, but he catches it and drowning crimson orbs flick up to meet your startled gaze. He does it again, staring at you darkly from beneath his eyelashes and licks another tortuously slow line across your aching skin.
You try not to, but you can't help but gasp, hand gripping tightly into the grass, and his pupils dilate with bloodlust as his fingers tighten against your skin. Gods.
“A-Astarion.” Your voice is breathy and tight, barely audible and you feel almost drunk from just this small amount of contact. He closes his eyes at the sound, a pained expression passing over his face as a shudder runs through his body, and then, before you can say anything else, his fangs sink into your wrist.
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Text
Dating Roronoa Zoro would include (liveaction!Zoro x female!reader headcanons)
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Tw: slight cursing, a bit suggestive towards the end, mentions of sword fighting
A/n: okay so i decided to give it a try myself lol this is completely based off the live action (i haven't watched the anime nor read the manga). I hope you like it, i'm so in love with our green haired baby 🥰 also forgive me for any mistakes, english is not my first language 🙏🏻
• First things first,we gotta make it clear: Zoro acts tough and all but deep down he is a big softie akslajskak
• The thing is, because of his past, he isn't very used to being treated kindly
• So when he found you it was like his world completely changed
• He cherished every little act of care you did for him
• He loooved when you ran your fingers through his hair
• He would close his eyes and enjoy it with a small smile on his lips
• Or when you caressed the back of his neck when you kissed him
• It drove him crazyyy
• He loved these little delicate touches that made his heart do a backflip
• And how about when you grabbed his face, looked deep into his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose?
• Boy would blush like hell
• "You're so cute when you blush" - you'd tease him with another kiss on the cheek
• "No, i'm not" - he said frowning and trying to brush that off, which only made you giggle and kiss him again
• You would always make sure to let him know how much you loved him
• And even though he wasn't the best in expressing his feelings, you could feel how grateful he was for that
• He would always look at you with the most passionate eyes and that's when you knew he loved you just as much
• And he would show it too
• Hell he would do anything for you
• Once he made Sanji prepare a whole feast for you (with him helping ajdkajskaj) because you accidentally let slip you missed food from home
• Or that time he secretly bought you a cute bracelet he saw you staring at when you stopped by at a village
• That's how much he loved you and wanted to make you happy
• And the straw hats would always tease you guys about it
• Except poor Luffy who didn't understand anything that was going on lol
• But he saw how happy you both were and, if his crew was happy, he was happy too
• Now Zoro wasn't much of PDA
• But he made sure to show everyone you belonged to each other
• He would usually put his arm around your waist or around your shoulders
• (When he did the latter one, you liked to intertwine your fingers with his which he thought was super cute ajskajskja)
• You on the other hand liked to hook your arm with his when he had his hand in his pocket
• Let's be honest you loved feeling the strong muscles of his arms
• Yeah, his physique was something you admired a lot
• You loved to watch him practice his sword fighting
• The way his strong arms moved
• That pretty face he did when he was concentrated
• The way his fingers moved on the sword
• Him all sweaty...
• okay let's stop over there
• He noticed you watching and one day he had a brilliant idea (or so he thought)
• You were a very skilled fighter, but you had never tried fighting with a weapon
• So he decided to teach you how to fight with his swords
• Ngl it was tough
• But you were very decided to try your best
• But actually the best part turned out to be being extra close to him
• "Hey, you have to position your arms like this" - he said as he gently lift your arms with a touch so soft it gave you butterflies
• He stood behind you as he helped you correctly hold the sword, putting his hands in yours (yeah like a big cliche move lol)
• He was so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck
• Which only made you even more distracted and had you get the move wrong again
• "Zoro, love, let's be honest, i can't do it. You are the greatest swordsman i know and i'll never be any close to that, so let's just give up" - you said, frustrated
• "What? No. (Y/N), you are the most determined and dedicated person i've ever known and i'm sure you can do anything you want" - he said, holding your hand and looking at you lovingly - "just... try it one more time. For me?" - he said with puppy eyes and you couldn't say no to the man you loved so much
• You grabbed the sword again and to your surprised you nailed the movement
• "I did it! Oh my gosh, Zoro, i did it!" - you said smiling from ear to ear
• He was as surprised and happy as you, with that pretty smile he didn't show often but that you loved so much
• He grabbed you and spun you around as you both laughed
• "I knew you could do it" - he said as he put you on the ground again - "i'm so proud of my girl" - he kissed your cheek
• And now it was your time to blush as he ruffled your hair
• (Needless to say, Usopp and Sanji were watching the whole thing and started making fun of you two, which only made you blush even harder lmaooo)
• Okay so we all know and love his deep voice, right?
• Now imagine his morning voice 💀
• After spending a ahem very good night together you'd wake up next to each other in the morning
• "Morning, Zoro" - you'd say still sleepy
• "Morning, babe. D'you sleep well?" - he asked in that deep, raspy voice that gave you all the butterflies
• Damnnnn
• You'd get weak in the knees all over again lmao
• And that could lead to something else 👀
• But that's a whole another story ajdkajskaj
• And speaking of his voice
• He wasn't much of talking, but he slowly started opening up to you
• Sharing his thoughts, fears and stories from his past
• You saw through him and broke down his walls, so he felt 100% comfortable around you
• You'd lay down together and talk about everything
• That was such a special and intimate moment for you
• You loved being there with him, taking in his scent and listening to his voice while he traced circles down your back
• He would tell you stories about Kuina and the promise he made
• You swear you had never seen him that vulnerable
• But you were glad he felt safe enough to share that with you
• In the end you just hugged and reassured him
• "I know you will keep your promise, and i'll be here supporting you until the end" - you said, gently cupping his cheek
• "Thank you, (Y/N)" - he said softly, and you could see the warmth in his eyes - "now i have another reason to believe i can make it"
• "What is it?" - you asked, a bit confused
• "Having you by my side" - he said in his low voice, laying down and closing his eyes
• Your heart fluttered at that 😭
• "It's my pleasure, Roronoa Zoro" - you said smiling and cuddling him as you both fell asleep <3
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2hightocare · 5 months
Text
IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN
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Synopsis: in which jungkook makes you realize a perfect man may exist…
Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure on fluff, Jungkook being a gentleman, oc crying, gguks love language ‘gift giving’
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Jungkook has always been a gentleman, following the sidewalk rule, opening doors, assisting his mom with groceries, and even pulling out chairs. He considers these actions the bare minimum.
When Jungkook met you, he found himself doing everything possible to make you happy. He started buying you flowers every other week after learning about your love for them and how your dad used to surprise you with bouquets as a little girl. Jungkook would research the meaning of each flower before showing up at your door with them, sometimes accompanied by your favorite coffee or snack.
The pink tulips Jungkook got you two days ago now sit beautifully in a vase on your vanity. "Care and good wishes, baby," he whispers the meaning of the flowers against your mouth, making you break into a big smile.
As an avid reader of romantic books, you would often find yourself on Jungkook's couch in your pajamas and fuzzy socks while he either slept or watched television with his head on your lap. He would playfully toy with your socks as you read, and your black-framed reading glasses would rest on your nose. "My glasses are so dirty, yuck," you scrunch your nose, cringing at their fogginess before taking them off.
“Give 'em to me," Jungkook says, raising his hand. You place the glasses in his open hand, and he uses the back of his shirt to carefully wipe them down.
These unasked-for gestures release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, making your cheeks hurt from smiling. Most times, Jungkook doesn't even notice he's doing these things; they happen subconsciously. Like when he drops to his knees immediately upon noticing your untied shoes, tying them with bunny ears before creating a bow perfectly, not too tight or too loose, just as you like them. He then stands up, acting like nothing just happened.
You'd express gratitude often for everything he does, but he would consistently shut you up with a kiss, saying, "It's the bare minimum, baby. I wish I could do more."
During your girls' nights, your friends occasionally felt a twinge of envy as you recounted Jungkook's thoughtful gestures. You'd share how he bought all the books you had saved in your Barnes and Noble cart, leaving them outside your door along with a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.
Your sister, overwhelmed by jealousy, almost cried out, "Oh my god, when will I get myself a Jungkook!" she groaned into her hands, eliciting giggles from you and your mom. "No, seriously, like what the heck!" She continued, making you laugh even harder while recording her tiny tantrum on the phone you held in front of your face.
"Can I at least have one strawberry?" your sister muttered, creating a small window with her hands covering her face as she peeked through. Your mom burst into laughter, trying not to choke on the water she had just been drinking.
You quickly sent the video to Jungkook before admiring the stack of books wrapped in brown kraft paper, neatly held together by a pink ribbon. The thoughtfully arranged packaging made you reluctant to even open.
Jungkook had always claimed that his love language was gift-giving, using it as an excuse every time you told him to stop spending so much money on you. While he shook his head, saying, "I have the money," your boyfriend justified his actions, making you roll your eyes and then leave a big, fat kiss on his lips.
Reflecting on all the things Jungkook has done and continues to do for you warms your tummy and brings a smile to your face. Jungkook genuinely enjoyed performing these acts, from carrying you or swapping shoes when your feet hurt from your heels to taking off your makeup after you fell asleep with it on, and putting your phone to charge whenever you would forget to.
Your heart races every time you see him, a reminder of how effortlessly you fell in love with Jungkook. His encouraging words during testing week or on days when everything seemed to go wrong.
“What’s wrong, baby? Tell me, I’ll fix it,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks as tears continue to flow down your face.
His words only intensify your tears, causing Jungkook to panic. Not sure what to do, he holds onto you tightly, feeling the pain in his chest grow with each sniffle that escapes you.
“It’s so stupid—” you start to explain, flapping your hands around, only for Jungkook to gently cage them with his own.
“Hey, anything that makes you this upset is not stupid, baby,” Jungkook reassures, kissing your tear-stained cheek. Your hair and makeup are disheveled from crying, and your hand rubs your chest, hoping to take away the ache.
Jungkook watches your movements, sighing as he realizes he can't do anything to take away all your pain. God, how he wishes he could.
Since that day, you find solace in clinging onto Jungkook at every opportunity. His comforting touches, from light caresses to small kisses on your cheek or forehead, become your source of comfort. Each gesture makes you want to shower him with kisses.
“Do you want pasta and pizza?” he asks, reaching for a loose strand of your hair and securing it behind your ear before returning his attention to the menu. Leaving you looking at him with hearts in your eyes.
"Hmm," you hum as your head nestles into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. "Sleepy?" he asks, smiling down at you. "Nah," you giggle as he squeezes your thigh, your hand resting on top of his, barely covering half of it. "You should’ve brought jeans; you're freezing," Jungkook suggests, moving his hand up and down your bare thighs. "The skirt was too cute not to wear," you mumble into his shoulder.
"Super cute," he agrees, looking down at your black skirt before attempting to pull it down. "Too short, though," he continues, making you burst into laughter and swat his shoulder.
Jungkook watches your profile as you slurp on the pasta, a rush of love overwhelming him. He'd give you the stars and the moon you love so much without a second thought. He used to roll his eyes to the thought of love back then now, he found himself captivated by the girl with a white headband beside him, chuckling at every 'mmm' you let out when taking a bite.
"I love you," Jungkook says suddenly, making you look up with a mouth full of food. You tease, "Are you dying?" His smile widens, "No, I just wanted to tell you." Jungkook leans down, leaving a quick peck on your lips. Your eyes soften, "I love you."
Moments like this make you wonder: what were you doing without him in your life?
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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year
Text
Work for it
Javier Peña x f!reader
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summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily
warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself
word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)
A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.
You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.
It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.
What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.
He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.
He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.
“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”
One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.
“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.
Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.
Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.
One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.
“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.
“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”
His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.
“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”
“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“
Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.
The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.
It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.
“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-
He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”
You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.
“Listen here-“ A pause followed.
“Javi.” He offered.
“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”
He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.
“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.
You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.
He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.
Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:
“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.
You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.
He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.
Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.
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Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.
Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.
Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.
His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.
And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.
So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.
The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.
You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.
The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.
You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.
His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.
He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.
“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.
He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.
“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”
You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.
He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.
So that you knew what you were missing.
The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.
But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.
So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.
You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.
You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.
To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.
Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.
But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.
And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.
So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.
Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.
There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.
Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.
You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.
You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.
You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.
The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.
Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.
So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.
“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.
“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.
And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.
“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”
His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.
He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.
And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?
But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.
So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.
But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.
He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.
“You should ask her out, Peña.”
Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.
“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.
“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”
And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.
Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.
“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.
His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-
“Javi, you okay?”
Man up, Peña.
He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:
“Go out with me.”
He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.
“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.
“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.
“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.
“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”
He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.
“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”
“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.
He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.
“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.
“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.
He owes Steve.
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For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.
He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.
When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.
The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.
Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.
You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.
It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.
As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.
A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.
Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.
“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.
“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.
You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.
“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”
You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.
You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.
You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.
It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.
The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there
Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.
“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.
“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.
“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.
“You remember that?”
“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”
The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.
“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.
“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.
He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.
“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.
The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.
You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.
It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.
“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.
Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.
Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.
When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.
He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.
All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.
And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.
He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.
He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.
His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.
And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?
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The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.
This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.
And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.
He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.
“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.
Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.
“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.
“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.
He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.
“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”
“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”
“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.
“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.
Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.
You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.
A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.
He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.
“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.
“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.
“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.
“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.
The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.
And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.
“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.
“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.
He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.
“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.
“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.
He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.
“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.
“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.
“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”
They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.
You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.
The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.
His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.
Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.
You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.
You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.
He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.
You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.
“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.
Game on, Peña.
You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.
Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.
“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.
He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.
“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.
The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.
“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.
The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.
The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.
“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.
He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.
He hopes you understand.
When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.
He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.
He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.
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He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.
He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.
He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.
You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.
He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.
“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.
“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.
It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.
“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.
You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.
“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.
“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”
And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.
One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.
He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.
You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.
The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.
His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.
You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.
He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.
He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.
“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.
The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.
When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.
You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.
When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:
“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.
And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.
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The third official date comes around three weeks later.
Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.
It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.
Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.
It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.
He feels desired as much as he desires you.
He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.
“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.
It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.
So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.
So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.
What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-
A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.
But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.
The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.
His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.
“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.
You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.
“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.
“Javi-“ You protest weakly.
“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.
He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.
You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.
You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.
His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.
Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.
The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.
Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.
He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.
You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.
The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.
You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.
It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.
You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.
You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.
You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.
His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.
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TAGS: @harriedandharassed
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sinofwriting · 5 months
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Wait - Ollie Bearman
Words: 4,936 Summary: Ollie Bearman doesn’t wear necklaces, it’s just not his thing. So why during the 2023 Mexico GP is he spotted wearing a necklace with a familiar ring hanging from the chain Note(s)/Warning(s): This is in fact the purity ring fic. It’s a bit NSFW. Reader is Max Verstappen’s little sister. I nearly included lestappen because the idea of both Verstappen siblings dating a Ferrari (or Ferrari adjacent) driver was funny to me, but I didn’t. Also, thank you to all the people who told me to write this. I’m going to go somewhere, but I’m glad I did!
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A ring sits on her finger. The same finger that will one day have an engagement ring then a wedding band to join. The band is thin with two knots and between both knots are four tiny pearls, barely the size of a grain of rice and in the middle of those four pearls is a mix of her birthstone and Max’s. She had gotten it when she was eleven shortly after she had heard Max joking with some of his friends about sex and she went to their mom asking what exactly they meant and for the past six years it had sat there.
It was the first big purchase Max had made with his F1 paycheck. The seventeen year old had felt ashamed and horrified at his baby sister overhearing the things him and friends were joking about. And even worse when their mom had to give her the talk. It had been nothing however compared to what their father had thought when learning of it. Max had swore his ears were ringing as Jos had yelled at him for first having his friends around her and second talking about sex when he knew that she was in the house and liked to randomly join them.
The ring had been a nice way to ease the tension and though he had been a bit red as he explained what it was to her, she had nodded along with his explanation, looking serious before putting it on and then smiling at him and hugging him.
At eleven it hadn’t really been an issue, wearing a purity ring, promising that she’d wait to be married before having sex. It hadn’t been a problem when she was fifteen and her first spike of hormones hit and suddenly sex wasn’t something that felt so far away or like a weird foreign concept. It hadn’t been a problem at sixteen either when she got her first boyfriend, who Max had quickly run off.
It had started to be a problem after she turned seventeen and got together with Ollie.
Ollie who she was never supposed to meet. Was only supposed to know of because she followed F2 and F3. But then she joined Max for the remainder of the 2022 season in July. Done with school and unsure if she wanted to go to Uni, unsure really of what she wanted to do.
She had planned to stay home with her mom, putter about the house, maybe do some small writing for Redline and Verstappen.com that she’d email to Kris, who would send her the money that they got paid for them instead of submitting them herself where Max would be sure to give her a stupid amount of money for something that took maybe thirty minutes to write.
But then Max had heard about her plans and she was officially employed by her brother. Managing his website, instagram, and Redline’s social media, going with him to every race, which meant that she had far too much free time and meant that she found herself following around Jack Crawford as he finished up his F3 season which meant running into Ollie Bearman.
Ollie, who was so unexpectedly sweet and cute, who made all the blood rush to her face as her heart worked overtime, made butterflies appear in her stomach.
It had been the second time that they saw each other that he had asked her on a date and now a year later, the two are now both eighteen and head over heels in love, and the ring that rests on her left ring finger feels more like a nuisance.
She had never had sex, hadn’t even really touched or been touched until Ollie but as the F2 season had grown to a close it felt like that was all that was on her mind and Ollie’s.
The kisses they shared when alone quickly grew into heated make out sessions and when they had time, they found themselves in his hotel room under the covers, underwear still on but hands exploring each other's bodies.
She falls in love with the pattern of freckles on his back and the way he shivers when she traces them with her fingers. The spot above his heart that always makes his breath hitch when she kisses it. His strong calves that always tense right after his thighs when she settles on his lap. His hands and how much bigger than hers they are. And his fingers that he lets her play with, kiss and nibble at just to see and hear the stuttered breath he gives as his cheeks turn red.
He falls in love with the small tattoo that still only he knows she has, it’s small enough to just barely be hidden by even her more risqué bikinis. The scar she has on her knee that makes her shiver when his fingers or lips touch it. The soft skin of the underside of her breasts, because it feels nice to stroke when he gets the chance to dip his hands underneath her bra. The moan she gives when he settles in between her thighs and rests his weight on top of her as they kiss.
Ollie knows what the ring is, what it means, what she promised Max. It’s the one thing that always reminds him to stop, that pulls him back when he’s about to dip his fingers beneath her underwear to feel her wetness against his fingers or about to ask her to take her bra off, to let him see more of her. The feeling of her ring always draws him back. Makes him refocus on just kissing her and not getting ahead of himself before he makes another mess of himself.
He sees it every time he sees her, he kisses it every time he lifts her hand to his lips, first kissing the ring, a silent promise to himself that one day he’ll replace it with a ring of his own, before kissing her hand.
So Ollie doesn’t think anything when he comes home from simulator work to his flat in Maranello smelling like brownies. It had taken a bit to convince Max that she didn’t want to go home but rather wanted to go on a little trip with her friends. She just neglected to mention that there was no trip, and by friends she meant boyfriend, and really she meant during the week break they’d have she’d be going to Italy to stay with Ollie.
“That smells so good.” Ollie groans, kicking his shoes off before moving further into the flat. She beams at him, accepting the kiss he presses to her cheek. “I know you had dinner there so I made brownies. And not a whole pan.” She adds. “I know you can’t indulge too much.” “Thank you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back into him.
He starts to sway them both as he stares at the small pan of brownies, the smell of them mouthwatering.
“Can I have one?” “They like just got out of the oven.” He pouts, bending his neck and pressing his face into her neck. “Please?” “You're going to burn your fingers and mouth.” She laughs. “Pretty please?” He tries. She makes a humming noise, one he feels more than hears. “Only if you give me a kiss first.” “Deal.”
She giggles as he quickly turns her in his arms. “Hi.” She greets as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Hi.” He parrots back and the thought of the brownies are gone from his mind as he looks at her.
She’s got a piece of his merch on, one of the sample sweatshirts, but also a pair of his boxer briefs. It’s like she’s drowning in him and he just wants to add to it.
Pressing their lips together, he grunts when her nails dig lightly into the back of his neck.
“Sorry.” She murmurs against his lips. He shakes his head, “it’s fine.”
They stand there for a while just kissing, but then his hands are moving underneath the top she’s wearing, grasping at her hips before fingers trail up her sides before back down and she’s pulling him to his bedroom.
They’ve done this so much that it takes barely any time for him to take his FDA polo off and then his jeans before joining her in bed, settling between her thighs. It doesn’t however stop him from rocking his hips into hers a couple of times before he can stop himself, hunger only growing when her hips hitch upwards and she’s wrapping a leg around him, pulling him closer.
“Fuck, darling.” He gasps, pressing kisses to her exposed throat. She moans, her hands resting on his bare back and it’s the feeling of her ring that makes him stop. Hips nearly thrusting again when she whines, but he tenses his whole body, not letting it loosen even when he kisses her again, swallowing the next whine she lets out.
His right hand makes his way underneath her top as they continue to kiss, his body relaxing into hers as he gets control of himself again.
As his fingers creep up her side, he wonders what they’ll feel. The spandex of her sports bra? The cotton or whatever it is of the one bra she likes to wear to media days? Maybe lace? His mind spins at the last option and he gulps.
She’s only worn lace once and it was on their year anniversary, their first approved sleepover. Though Max had made sure to get her from his hotel room at 11 am. But he considers they have the rest of the week just them together and he doesn’t have to go into the factory anymore. And she made him brownies, homemade. He knows because of the way she had been standing at the kitchen counter, carefully looking at them. So, maybe another treat for him was her wearing lace.
But as fingers reach where he’d normally feel the edge of something there is nothing. He goes to frown but before he can, her chest rises, his fingers graze the underside of her left breast and his hips are snapping into her again.
“Oh my god.” She moans at the feeling. “Fuck.” He curses and he feels out of breath as he feels more of her. “You’re not,” he mutters. “You’re not wearing anything.” She shakes her head, bucking her hips wanting more friction. “Please, Ollie. Want more, want it off.” He should be saying no, he can already feel his control hanging by thread at the knowledge that she’s not wearing a bra, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he sees her boobs for the first time, but he’s backing away, letting her sit up, and she’s flinging his sweatshirt off.
His jaw drops at the sight, eyes wide and his dick twitches. He sees the way she bites at her lips, arms starting to come up and he’s quick to react. Fingers touching the soft skin, thumbs rubbing at her nipples as he sort of holds them.
“Pretty.” He manages to get out and feels himself blush. “Can we kiss again?” Ollie nods, eager.
He carefully lays next to her, drawing her on top of him, the two both gasping at the feeling of her bare breasts resting on his bare chest.
His hands dance up and down her back, sometimes his pinky fingers dipping below the waistband of his boxer briefs that she’s wearing before moving back up again as they kiss, hips still moving together.
When she shifts a little on top of him, moaning, he grasps at her hips, stopping her from moving as he feels himself twitch and he just knows that he has to be leaking, creating a wet spot in his underwear.
“We have to stop.” “I’m close though.” His head falls back and he groans. “I am too.” “I,” She stops, thinking of the lingerie she had brought with her, the dinner reservation she had made for herself and Ollie tomorrow night, the necklace chain also in her suitcase. “I want more.” She says, before taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes. “I want to have sex with you.” He’s looking at her wide eyes and she’d think that he didn’t want her back if she couldn’t feel how hard he was underneath her. “But,” his eyes dart to her left hand. “I thought we were waiting.” She feels blood rush to her cheeks at his whisper, at the promise he made for and to her.
She had been nervous when telling Ollie about her purity ring and about she would like to wait awhile, maybe even till marriage to have sex, especially after he shared that he had already had sex before. But he had been surprisingly okay with it after he had a few days to think and wrap his head around it, and not that she knew but to talk to his dad about it, before he came back said that he’d wait as long as she wanted.
“I mean, we did.” She whispers back. “I just, I think you’re the one, ya’know. And even if you aren’t, I can’t see myself ever regretting you.” There’s a stinging in his eyes and he clears his throat. “Okay.” He shifts her down a bit so he can sit up, pressing their lips together. “Okay.”
Her hands cup his cheeks as they kiss while his hands stay on her hips. Not moving or doing anything despite the fact that she’s given the all clear. It’s one of her hands dropping from his face to trail down his body, that makes his hands move, grabbing her ass, pressing her down and closer. It makes her gasp.
“Ollie.” He groans at the sound of her moaning his name. His eyes dart to his nightstand, where there should be some condoms in the drawer with lube as well and then he’s cursing, hands falling away from her. “We have to stop, darling. I’m sorry.” “But,” She shifts on top of him and he swears again when he looks down and sees a wet patch peeking out from where she’s sitting on top of him. “I know, but I don’t have any condoms.” He feels himself flush, “I threw them away after we got serious since I figured it wouldn’t happen for a few years.” “No.” She whines, heading dropping onto his shoulder as her whole body sags.
She hadn’t thought about buying condoms, mainly because despite the lingerie she packed and the dinner reservation, she hadn’t actually planned on them having sex. She just wanted more, even some dry humping or at the very least to feel fingers against her that weren’t her own.
“I could pull out.” The words are weak to his own ears. She lifts her head slightly to look at him. “Do you really think you could?” “I could run and get some condoms.” He really doesn’t feel like getting back in the car, doesn’t feel like leaving her, but he’d do it. "No,” she shakes her head. She didn’t like the idea of being alone, waiting for him to come back with condoms. Or him putting clothes back on, the idea makes her nose wrinkle. She then pauses as something comes to mind. “How’s your Italian?” His brows furrow at the question. “It’s decent. Basic and more strategy and car related. But I get by, why?” “I was thinking of Plan B.” “Plan B?” His brows furrow more before it clicks and his eyes widen, “oh, Plan B.” “Yeah, I’d still want it even if you do end up pulling out, but I don’t think that will happen.” He wants to protest, deny, argue that he absolutely could pull out, but it’d be a lie.
“Ollie.” She whines nearly an hour later as he tries to get her to separate her thighs. “You’re all sticky.” He tells her. “I need to clean you up before it dries.” And god was it a bitch to clean up dried cum. “I’ll be quick.” He promises. She pouts, but lets her thighs fall apart, wincing at the burning muscles. He swallows at the sight of their mixed release. He hadn’t managed to pull out the first time, but the second he had managed to, only to finish practically in her anyways. And it was worse because of her own two orgasms that added to the mess. Taking the damp cloth, he carefully cleans her up, apologizing when she whines when he presses a bit too much on her clit.
“Much better.” He grins, when he’s done. Throwing the cloth in the direction of his laundry hamper. “Cuddle?” She asks, making grabby hands at him and eagerly joins her again in bed, slipping the covers over both of them. “That’s better.” She mumbles, when they settle together and he laughs, pressing a kiss to her head.
It’s hard for him to leave when he wakes up in the morning. They’re still both naked and she’s sleeping peacefully beside him. But he’d rather go and get her the Plan B now, then put it off until later when she’ll be fully awake.
Rolling to his side, he presses a series of light kisses to her face. She mumbles a bit and he chuckles. “I’ve got to go, darling.” She mumbles again, turning to lay on her side as well. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be right back.” “Where are you going?” Her voice is low, thick with sleep. “I need to get some things real quickly. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, okay?” “Do you have to?” She pouts. “I’ll be quick.” He promises, bending to kiss her.
It takes him barely any time to get the Plan B and condoms, though he had stumbled his way through Italian to get the Plan B before just pulling up a picture of it.
“Darling?” He calls when he gets back. “Kitchen.” She calls back, a hint of sleep still in her voice. With the bag hanging from his finger, he walks to the kitchen. “I got you plan b and condoms for me, just in case.” “No, just in case. I’d like a repeat.” He grins at her, setting the bag on the counter. “Yeah?” She nods, bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah.” Bending, he captures her lips in a quick kiss, humming.
“Want to do brownies for breakfast?” His eyes widen and they dart to the counter. “I completely forgot you even made those!” “I’ll take that a yes?” “Please!”
Cutting him a piece and then one of herself, she puts them on a plate as Ollie gets them both something to drink before they both go to the living room and sit on the couch.
“These are so good.” He mumbles, catching a crumb before it can fall. “You say that everytime.” “Because it’s true! These are really good.” Her brownie was a good bit smaller than his so as soon as she finishes her, she’s standing up and retrieving something from her suitcase, ignoring him asking where she’s going.
Sitting back down, she places a box in his lap.
“What is this?” He asks, setting the plate on the coffee table, only a few crumbs on it. “I bought it for you a while ago and have been carrying it around since, just wasn’t sure when exactly I’d give it to you.” He looks at her intrigued, before looking back at the box and carefully opening it.
Ollie’s brows furrow at the thin chain that rests inside. It was nice, very nice, though not by a brand that he recognized. It was also a weird gift considering he didn’t wear necklaces, though if he was going to wear one, it would be this one.
“What’s it for?” He asks. “I, uh,” she stutters a bit over her words, playing her ring before carefully pulling it off, flexing her fingers at the odd sensation of it not being there. “It’s for this.” And she drops the ring she’s worn since she was eleven into his palm. “But this is yours.” “And I can’t wear it anymore.” She tells him. “I intended to wait longer to have sex, but I don’t regret last night and I won’t regret anything we do in the future. It’s yours now and I kind of liked the idea of you carrying it with you wherever you go.” He stares at the ring, tries to ignore the pulse of want and smugness, because he got to have her first and he was fairly certain he’d be her only and last.
Lifting the chain out of the box, he carefully unclasps it, threading the ring on, before clasping it around his neck, the ring resting just below the hollow of his neck, easily hidden behind any shirt he wears if he has it tucked in.
Turning his neck, the sensation of something there is odd and he says that. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I like it.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”
It doesn’t take him long to get used to the necklace and he practically never takes it off, only in the shower or when doing certain training sessions and it hasn't happened yet but when he has to get into the F1 car and then his F2 car, he’ll be taking it off then as well.
No one really notices his new accessory, he’s not doing much on social media, his mum and dad had asked him about it and he had flushed but just said that it was something she had gotten for him and lucky they didn’t press for more. It gives a false sense of security that comes crashing down in Mexico.
He’s on a bit of a high for doing his first free practice and not placing dead last even though it’s only free practice and placing doesn’t really matter. He’s out of his race suit, having been able to not shower but wipe himself down with a damp towel before getting back into the Haas polo and jumping in to do more media. And as he does some interviews he doesn’t notice the way her ring that’s kept underneath his shirt is on full display.
But it does come to his attention when he finally gets his phone and sees so many mentions and a strange text full of exclamation marks that has him quickly hitting the call button.
“Is everything okay? I got a weird text from you.” “Ollie.” “What’s wrong?” He’s about to exit the Haas hospitality, he could be at Red Bull’s in about a minute at the strained sound of her voice. “My ring, everyone saw my ring.” His eyes widen and he’s cursing. “Oh no.” “Yeah.” “And they all know.” “Yeah.” She confirms again. “Because Max had to make it clear what the ring was.” She laughs, but it’s clear that she’s on the verge of tears, her voice tight. The sound has him wanting to wrap in his arms, shield her away, but it also has him confused. She never cared about what fans thought of her. She was very much like her brother in that matter. It was all water off a duck’s back. “What’s wrong, darling?” He asks, dropping his voice as someone looks at him weirdly. “I just, Max hadn’t noticed, no one has really. And I don’t regret it Ollie, but that was a promise I made to Max, to save myself.” The last three words come out as a whisper. “And now he’s going to find out because the whole of F1 twitter is talking about it. I should’ve told him.” “It’ll be okay.” He reassures her, but now the realization has hit that he’s going to have deal with Max and not just Max, but Daniel and Charles and fucking Arthur, which is a bit insulting because it’s Arthur of all people, but the Leclerc’s liked her a lot, Charles liked to argue with Max that she was actually their younger sister and not Max’s, which lead to a headache of bickering between the two drivers.
“Can I come to you?” He looks down at his watch even though he knows that he doesn’t have any more interviews, just needs to stay to watch the last session play out since he already did his debriefing as well. “Yeah, do you want me to walk you over?” “No, I’ll be there in a second.”
Meeting her at the doors of the hospitality, he quickly ushers her in before leading her to a back corner, the both of them sinking to the floor, somewhat hidden from view by a couch.
“You alright?” “Yeah.” She breathes, pressing close to him. “I just should’ve said something to Max. I just didn’t want to say anything y’know?” And he can feel her nose wrinkle at the idea and his does the same. Because yeah it was a bit gross to think about telling your sibling that you’ve had sex just so they won’t be blindsided by the media. “He’s gonna hate me again.” She doesn’t say anything and he groans, throwing his head back against the wall. “I just made some progress with him.” “I know, bear.” She murmurs, kissing his cheek. “I could put it back on? Say that I gave it to you as a good luck charm.”
It’s a good idea, a perfect solution for their problem, but it’s clear that she doesn’t like the idea and he doesn’t like the idea either. He’s grown used to the small weight of the ring resting below the hollow of his throat and he’s not fond of the idea of seeing a ring that’s not his on her ring finger again.
“Maybe I should propose.” She jerks away from him like she’s been burned. “Fuck, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly says. “I just I don’t want to give it back. I don't want to see you wearing it again and I just,” he waves his hands around. “My brain was running. I’m sorry.” Her eyes are focused on his and she slowly presses back into him, though she keeps her head pulled back so they can look at each other. “Is that something you really want in the future? To be married to me?” “One hundred percent.” She blinks at the quick response, a smile starting to bloom on her face. “Not now, just because I don’t want to rely on nothing but sponsors and my dad for money, but maybe once I got an F1 seat and then got a contract extension or new seat. I’d have money to help support us, to buy you a nice ring, house.” He hopes that she can’t tell how much he’s thought about this, how much he’s rambled to both Jak and Fred about this even though if either of them got the chance they’d happily rat him out for being such a preteen girl, and he just knows that Jak told Fred what that means. “I want that too.”
Ollie wonders if him intending on marrying her, on putting a ring on her finger will lessen the brunt of anger he’s sure to receive and it doesn’t.
“You defiled my sister!” The eighteen years old both make a face at the Dutch man’s words. “No one defiled anyone.” Max ignores her, glaring at the British driver. “You touched her.” Ollie nearly reaches out for her hand, but keeps his hands to himself, as he gives a tiny nod. “Max, it’s alright. I wanted it.” Max and Daniel both make a face at her words. “Ew. You shouldn’t even know what it is.” “Well, Max kind of ruined that for me when I was eleven.” She snarks and her brother flushes. “Which is why I gave you the ring! You were supposed to save yourself for marriage! Keep yourself away from boys like Ollie!” “What’s wrong with me?” He asks, offended. “You’re a teenager.” Daniel tells him with a shrug. “And you’ve got a dick. That’s all it really takes.”
“What happened to waiting?” Max asks, voice a little quieter as he looks at her. “Max,” she starts and then includes the Alpha Tauri driver who’s inched closer. “Daniel. I thought I was going to wait for marriage, or at least a few more years, but Ollie,” she pauses, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. “Ollie feels like the one.” She reaches out for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “And even if he isn’t, I won’t regret what we did.”
The two older men stare at her, at them. One who can remember holding her just hours after she was born, and the other who got to know her shortly after Max’s fuck up when she was eleven. Both her brothers, one just a bit longer than the other.
Max swallows harshly, the full realization hitting him that his baby sister isn’t a baby anymore. She’s an adult and he’s never really had the right to get mad at her for things she does but he really doesn’t now. He can feel Daniel standing behind him, and knows that the older man will go with him whatever way he chooses.
Stepping forward, he pulls her into a hug and wonders where the time has gone. “As long as you don’t regret it, yeah?” She hugs him back tighter, tension in her shoulders loosening at his acceptance. “Yeah. Love you, Maxy.” He laughs, a quiet thing. “Love you too.”
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@arshiyuh @mangotaitai @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @benstormy
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mykoreanlove · 2 months
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The cat's revenge
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Your eyes shot open. Finally. The last day of your self-imposed sex ban was finally over.
You turned around and faced your boyfriend who was still sound asleep. His behavior had surprised you – Minho had begged for the first couple of days but then he just gave up and accepted his fate, never mentioning it again. You wondered how it was so easy for him, giving up sex like that.
You masked your frustration as best as you could, it was your ban after all. His behavior needed to be punished but most of the times it felt like you were the one that was suffering the most.
Minho slowly opened his eyes and smiled softly. “Baby, are you up?” He put his arms around you and hugged you tightly. The last two weeks were not only depleted of sex but rather every kind of contact that went beyond a peck. Minho nuzzled into you and sighed happily. “I missed this. I missed you, y/n.”
The butterflies in your stomach awoke as well, turning you into a mess in seconds. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Let’s not fight like that ever again, please.”
“Agreed”, you mumbled as your hands touched his body. God, you missed feeling his chiseled abs. You missed your fingers trailing down his v-line. You let out a quiet gasp as your fingers traced over his bulge, already stone-hard.
Minho tilted your face up and looked into your eyes deeply. You could have sworn you saw them sparkle more than usual. “Let’s not rush it, baby. Why don’t I take you out for dinner tonight and after that, we uh, continue where we left of two weeks ago?”
He jumped out of the bed and went to shower while you lay in bed cheerily.
The ban worked perfectly, look how sorry he is. I think this was a great idea after all.
Empowering music was blasting through the stereo as you were getting ready for your date. You took a long bubble bath, shaved everywhere and applied scented lotion all over your body. You were so ready for tonight. Your body was covered in the dress he loved the most, your neck sprayed in the most seductive perfume while your face was slightly tinted in different colors. You felt like a goddess ready to be worshipped after so long. Minho knocked on the door and entered slowly.
“Baby, are you ready?”
He was holding a giant bouquet of flowers, red roses to be precise. “Are those for me?” It took him a minute to answer as he was eyeing you up and down, too flabbergasted to speak. Minho cleared his throat hastily. “Yeah, uh, they are. God, I don’t know why I feel so nervous. It’s like our first date all over again.” You chuckled, feeling the same way.
“Baby, you look mesmerizing. Absolutely mesmerizing.”
You took the flowers out of his hands and kissed his check. “So do you, Min.”
He had made a reservation in your favorite restaurant, spoiling you with steak and red wine. You didn’t even notice the stares of the other guests as you two were too engulfed with each other.
You had missed this so much. The sex ban was a risky idea, one that stirred up a lot of controversy among your peers. Your friends warned you about this – withholding sex as a form of punishment was just as shitty of you, but you were desperate for revenge. Minho needed to be put in his place and luckily it all worked itself out.
“Do you want dessert?”
You smirked and got up to leave. “Yeah. But not the kind they’re serving here.”
The desperation for each other was immense, you barely made it to your bedroom. “Min”, you mumbled in between passionate kisses. “Yeah, kitty?”
“I want you. Now. Fuck me now.”
He shook his head as he put you down on the kingsize bed. “Kitty, right now I wouldn’t survive two seconds in your exquisite pussy. I’d combust instantly after what you put me through. No, let me take care of you first.”
He had that devious look in his eyes - the one that made you afraid for your life but also as horny as ever. He stripped you naked and hovered over you, placing wet kisses all over your body.
“Spread your legs for me”, he instructed quietly. He let out a gasp as you did, admiring your pussy for minutes.
“Kitty, look how wet you are.”
He traced his fingers through your blinds, collecting your juices on his middle finger. “All for me, huh?” Minho put his finger in his mouth and sucked on it, his eyes rolling back from pleasure. Seeing him like that was such a turn on. “Min”, you whined desperately. “Take care of me, now.”
He snapped back to reality and pumped his fingers into you – starting with one and adding two more. He was slipping in and out in a steady motion, getting you ready in minutes. He hovered in between your legs and watched you breathe quicker, your breasts heaving up and down. Minho curved his fingers, hitting all the right spots as you moaned excessively.
He could read you like a book, knowing damn well that you were close to coming undone.
“Min”, your moans filled the bedroom, which filled him with joy. “Min”, you whimpered his name. “MIN-“
And just like that he took out his fingers, making you open your eyes in irritation.
“Why did you stop? I was about to cum”, you whined in annoyance.
Minho chuckled. “Sorry Kitty, not yet. I want to make you cum real hard after those two weeks. Will you let me?”
He didn’t even wait for your reply as his lips landed on your throbbing core, licking his way to your clit. Your hands grabbed his long hair instantly and pulled on it, you felt the vibration of his grunts in your pussy. His tongue was quickly switching places between your clit and entrance, making you squirm from overstimulation. Your thighs clasped around his head, which made him go faster, making you dizzy from all the sensations.
“Min”, you moaned again, “Min wait, this is too much. I-“
Quickly, he pulled down his pants and thrusted into you – hard and rapidly. Your breath got caught in between your moans, he was stretching you out as much as he could.
His lips were on your ear as he thrusted, his animalistic grunts were the only sounds you were able to hear. Your body was on fire, but you were too far gone to notice.
All you cared about was your release, all you cared about was Minho fucking you into oblivion. But this time something was off.
Minho knew exactly what he had to do to make you cum in seconds, he knew your body better than you did yourself. Yet, this time he was working around it, eliciting all the spots that made you weak but never truly igniting them. Instead, he was irritating them.
Minho pulled out and slapped your clit with the tip of his cock, turning you into an even bigger mess. Tears started to roll down your cheeks as pleasure mixed with pain. Minho grabbed the vibrator he had gifted you last Christmas and turned it on to the highest level, holding it to your swollen clit. Your felt your body shaking, you lost all control over its movements.
“Min”, you cried. “Min, it’s too much. Please, I can’t take it anymore.”
“Kitty, kitty, kitty”, he whispered into your ear condescendingly. “What do you want?”
“Cum”, was the only word you were able to mutter in that state.
“Oh, is that so?”
You nodded.
“I’ll give you what you want kitty. Under one circumstance though.”
You would have agreed to anything right now. Your body felt like it was electrocuted – with vibrations, sensations and oxytocin. You nodded forcefully, not even questioning what he wanted of you.
Minho traced the vibrator along your folds and pushed it inside you, making you arch your back from pleasure. “I’ll make you cum kitty but only if you promise me to never use sex against me ever again.”
All you heard was cum and promise, ignoring the rest blindly. “Yes”, you huffed out. “Yes.”
Your boyfriend pulled the vibrator out of you and pushed himself into your heated core, thrusting into you as hard as he could. You felt the heat waves crush over you, stars blinding your vision. Minho’s voice in your ear: “Promise me, baby.”
You gathered your remaining strength and kissed him forcefully, promising him to never do such a thing ever again.
Content with himself, he gave you what you craved. You came multiple times, this had to be the most intensive orgasm you had ever felt with him. It felt like you were high for hours, jerking and shaking, too invested in the blankness of your mind.
Minho held you in his arms tenderly and waited for you to come down before he cleaned you up and pulled the blankets over you. You fell asleep instantly, this sexual encounter was too much for you to bear.
Minho however was beyond pleased. He whispered declarations of love into your ear while placing sweet kisses on your forehead. “You did so well for me, kitty. I am so proud of you.” He pushed strands of hair behind your ears and watched you sleep peacefully.
“You have no idea how much I love you. Only you, my adorable baby. Only you.” Your boyfriend’s swollen lips landed on the tip of your nose, smooching you once more in the most adorable way. Everybody knew how much he cared for you, how much he loved you – even if his ways of portraying that were very bizarre at times.
“Let’s not ever fight like this again, okay?” He nuzzled into you and closed his eyes, joining you in some restful sleep. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?”
______________________________________________________
@maximumkillshot @weareapackofstrays @lieslovefantasy @thatonenoona @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @livzsposts @i2nsstuff @n3tunobellah @redstayrosie @straykidsholicleigh @notastraykid @astayinwonderland @hanjisung-enjoyer @nicolechingish @sassyhumancoppainter @got-me-seein-stars @kairinne @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @kkamismom12 @xoxominghxe @f3rr0-fluid @straykidsholicleigh @xoxominghxe
i hope i got u all if not please share <3
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mvybanks · 1 year
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you drew stars around my scars
summary: when your boyfriend leaves you after finding out about your pregnancy, your best friend is not scared to take his place and show you how you and your baby deserve to be loved. (bestfriend!jj x pregnant!reader)
a/n: SHES HERE!!! i know that technically it wasn’t requested but by all of the asks i’ve gotten on this particular storyline, i had to! you guys have no idea how many times i had to do a research about pregnancy, i had to delete my google history😫 anyway, there’s a quote from friends from when rachel was pregnant AND the whole birth scene is just rachel giving birth because i have no idea how that works and friends was my only solution. i hope you guys like it!!! feedback is really appreciated <33
warnings: toxic and abusive ex, unwanted pregnancy, ANGST, mentions of sex (sfw), making out, reader goes into labour and gives birth (natural)
word count: 9.9k (i’m dead help)
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“i’m pregnant,” the conversation keeps replaying in your head, mocking you.
his voice is still clear in your mind, his laugh, so full of venom, “you can’t be pregnant.”
“i am, nathan. i took like ten tests, they’re all positive.”
and that look he gave you, as if you were scum, “that’s not my problem. you should’ve been more careful!” he yelled, starting to scare you.
“i didn’t mean this to happen. listen, we can-“
“there’s no we, no us!” the glass he had in his hand shattered on the wall beside you, for he had thrown it with force; had he tried to hit you?
“you’re not gonna trap me with a kid.”
“trap you? nathan, this is also your kid! it takes two people to-“ your words were cut off by the sound of a plate being thrown on the wall behind you, and that time you were sure you had been his target. when you looked at him, he was not the man you had thought he was. although you didn’t show it, you were terrified, and you still are, because you didn’t know where and when he would’ve stopped. you walked to your bedroom and started gathering the things he used to leave at your apartment.
“y/n, wait. i didn’t mean to do that. just-“ you began throwing his clothes at him, interrupting the empty promises he was about to made.
“you don’t want this kid? then leave!” you scream.
“i always knew you were just a bitch! should’ve left you months ago!”
“leave!” you shouted, taking the framed picture of the two of you from the coffee table and throwing it at the door as he closed it behind him.
your empty chest squeezes every time you catch a glimpse of the mess littering your floor and the reminder of what he was about to do because of his unjustified anger.
you fall on the ground, your back pressed against the wall behind you as loud sobs escape from your lips. tears are now falling down to your neck, drenching your eyelashes and your face. your hand shakily reaches for the phone that rests in your front pocket, pressing the contact for the only person you want to see right now.
“hey, y/n,” the melody of jj’s voice already brings you comfort, “what’s up?”
“j…” your trembling tone and the sound of your crying is now clear to him as he becomes scared of your well-being, which makes him interrupt you before you can continue.
“y/n? baby? what’s going on? where are you?”
as usual, the nickname makes butterfly erupt in your stomach, even in the state you’re in right now. however, what really warms your heart is the jingling of keys, already working his way outside his house just to get to you.
“i-i’m home. p-p-please, come h-here.”
“i’ll be there in five seconds, baby, okay?”
you hang up, too exhausted to answer as the last bit of strength you have left is currently being used to dehydrate your body since your tears seem to never stop.
when you hear the rumbling of his bike from outside, you finally take a deep breath, although it’s still hard to breathe between your sobs. you thank yourself for always having a spare key, which only jj knows about and where it’s hidden.
as soon as he enters the home, nervously looking for you, his face drops, horror is written all over his features as he looks at the sight before him: broken pieces of glass and ceramic are littering the ground, clothes are thrown on the couch and right on the front door, a picture on the floor that shows both you and your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend, but to jj that wasn’t a given yet.
his eyes finally found your shaking figure and he runs to you, anger and concern are the only emotions on his face as he crouches down in front of you.
“tell me he didn’t hurt you. tell me he didn’t throw this stuff at you because i swear to god i’m gonna kill him,” and you believe him.
perhaps you wouldn’t have if it was a different situation, but the look in his eyes clearly tells you that he’s about to commit murder if you don’t stop him.
“baby, please, talk to me. i just need to know that you’re okay, i need to know you’re not hurt,” he pleads, but your breathing gets harder the more you think about the bomb you’re about to drop.
“he didn’t hurt me,” you whisper softly, your crying finally calms down for a second.
“what happened?”
you look into his beautiful eyes, the same ones that never judged you and only ever gazed at you with so much affection and admiration, “i’m pregnant.”
even saying the words brings you to tears again as jj tries to calm himself down from the shock. his best friend, the woman he has loved for as long as he can remember, is pregnant…with another man’s child. he’s hurting, but he knows that it’s not about him and his stupid feelings right now.
“wha-whe- is it nathan’s?” he’s so shaken up by your confession he can barely make out a coherent sentence, but his question is a genuine one.
the annoyed look in your eyes tells him that it was a stupid question on his part, ‘whose would it be?’ your expression says.
“he left, j. he left me. he-” you stop yourself before you can tell him what he did, “he didn’t want us,” you simply say.
now he understands. he wants to kill him. he can’t believe he would do this to you, he knew he was a douchebag who didn’t deserve you, but this? this is low even for him.
jj wraps his arms tightly around your body, sitting on the floor next to you as he shifts in order to let you rest your head against his chest. he gently shushes your sobs as he rocks your body, bending his neck to press his lips on your forehead.
“it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay, sunshine. i got you. we’ll figure this out, ” he whispers, reassuring and reminding you of his presence.
the name he used to call you when you were just two teenagers brings a whole different sentiment grow in your chest as you finally feel safe.
you hold onto his t-shirt for dear life while your sobs finally seem to die down.
“don’t go, please,” you murmur against the cotton of his shirt and he swears his heart breaks.
jj cradles your face in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs as they get rid of your tears, and he stares into your eyes, an intense and strange look in his, “never. i’ll never leave you, you understand? i’m right here.”
the rawness and honesty in his voice makes you let out another soft sob and he kisses your head again.
“listen to me,” he says once his eyes are fixed on yours, “i’ll be here for everything, okay? i won’t let you go through all of this alone. it’s you and me.”
you nod slowly, your head still in his hands, “you and me.”
jj has been your rock since you were just a couple of kids, of troublemakers running around the cut hand in hand. you don’t remember one time in your life where he wasn’t there, protecting you from everything that’s wrong in the world and holding you when things got tough.
and even in this new and complicated situation, one neither of you have ever been in, he doesn’t hesitate to step up and do what he does best: taking care of you.
once you don’t have any tears left in you, he watches as you relax against him, your arms around him as he keeps rocking you. jj lifts your body from the ground and brings you to bed, laying you on the mattress. he gently throws a blanket on your sleeping body before bending down to kiss your forehead.
when he goes to leave the room, the sound of your voice stops him, “where you going?”
“i’ll stay here, don’t worry. i was going to sleep on the couch,” he smiles, reassuring you that he’ll be here for you in the morning.
“can you stay…here?” your voice is weak and sleepy, and he can’t say no to you.
“of course, sunshine.”
he lies next to you and you immediately go to rest your head on his chest, while his arms wrap around you, protecting you for as long as he can. one hand starts smoothing your hair out of your face, while the other is firmly hugging your waist.
“j,” you call him, so softly he almost doesn’t hear you, “i’m scared.”
he tightly shuts his eyes and kisses your head again, his lips lingering on your skin a little too long, “i know; i know, sunshine, but i’m not going anywhere, okay? you’re gonna have to kick me out if you want me to stay away.”
you chuckle and nuzzle your head further in his neck, inhaling the perfume of cheap cologne that brings you so much comfort, “thank you.”
the next morning, you find yourself in an empty bed, no sign of jj. the thought of him leaving you too begins to crawl inside you, mixed with fear and disappointment. you can hear the soft sound of your old tv playing in the living room, you didn’t leave it on, did you?
you slowly walk to your kitchen, an open space with the living room, and there he is, your favorite person in the whole world standing in front of a cooking pan while humming a song to himself.
“g’morning,” you mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you walk closer to him.
“good morning, sunshine,” he smiles at you, “i was making you breakfast.”
you grin at him; how stupid of you to think he would ever leave you.
your eyes scan the room as a frown starts to form on your face, “did you clean the mess from last night?”
he turns to you and nervously rubs the back of his head, “oh - uhm, yeah. there was glass everywhere, didn’t want you to get hurt, y’know.”
your feet take you to where he’s standing and your arms circle around his torso, resting your head against his chest. at first he’s startled by the sudden affection, but he recovers quickly, holding you close to him. you’re enjoying the comforting feeling of being in his arms when the smell of the eggs he’s cooking hits you, making you scrunch your nose.
suddenly, you feel an upsetting sensation in your stomach and you soon realize that your baby doesn’t agree with eggs.
“oh shit,” you say as you unwrap yourself from him and all but run to the bathroom, leaving a very confused jj behind you.
however, the sound of you being sick makes him move to the bathroom’s open door. you’re kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up as you try to hold your hair back. jj immediately kneels behind you and wraps his hand around your hair while his other hand strokes your back.
when you’re done, you let yourself fall with your back against the bathtub while he follows you, putting an arm around your shoulders.
“what was that about?” he asks softly, “did you eat something bad last night?”
you chuckle, “morning sickness, j. gonna have to do this for a while.”
“you’re telling me you’re gonna throw up every morning?”
your hand plays with his shirt as your head finds a comfortable position against his chest, “i started having it a week ago and i did some research, it should last at least two months,” you sigh, “anyway, i’m going to the doctor this afternoon and i’ll ask her about it, just to make sure.”
“i’m coming with you,” he says, holding you tighter.
“j, you don’t have to,” although the smile on your face says otherwise.
his lips press against your forehead, “i told you, i won’t let you go through this alone.”
he keeps his promise, like always. that same afternoon he picks you up and brings you to the doctor’s office. when you’re ready for your exam, the doctor tells him that he can come into the room as your private parts are covered.
jj sits next to you as the gynecologist squeezes a cold substance on your stomach, prepping you for your sonogram.
“so,” she starts, eyeing the man beside you, “you are…?”
“i’m her best friend; jj, ma’am,” jj says, showing her a polite grin.
“well, nice to meet you. are you ready, y/n?”
you nervously smile at her, “yeah, i am.”
the gynecologist begins the sonogram and the sound of a pulse starts filling the room, “this is your baby’s heartbeat,” she smiles and you unconsciously grab jj’s hand, his fingers intertwining with yours immediately, “and this,” she points to a bunch of black and white lines, “this is your baby.”
a laugh full of disbelief escapes your lips and jj’s eyes fall on your face, admiring you.
“i’ll leave you alone for a couple of minutes, okay?” the doctor says before leaving the room.
he brings your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “you okay, sunshine?”
your eyes are full of tears when you answer him, “thank you for coming with me.”
“i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
jj maybank isn’t known for being responsible, for owning up to his mistakes, or for making the smartest decisions, but when it comes to you? he’d give up everything just to get you to show him that beautiful smile of yours that makes his insides churn up and his heart flutter in his chest.
therefore, when he finds out you’re going to tell your parents about the pregnancy, he doesn’t leave your side, just like he promised. he might be unreliable to anyone else that knows him, but to you he’s always been the only person you can count on.
his hand is squeezing yours as you both look at your parents’ reaction after finding out about your situation.
“is it his?” your father asks, pointing at jj.
“no, it’s nathan’s. he - uhm,” jj rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, comforting you, “he left.”
“oh, come here,” your mom walks to you, taking you in her arms and your dad does the same not long after.
“jj, don’t take this wrong way, son, but what are you doing here?” your father asks, confusion written all over his face.
your parents have known jj since forever, just like you, and they both know how much you care for each other. it’s not a secret they’ve been waiting for you and him to get together, but no one dares to say it out loud.
“she’s a strong woman, sir, i know she could do this alone but i don’t want her to. so i’ll be by her side as long as she’ll have me.”
your dad nods at him while your mom goes to give him a hug too, taking him by surprise.
after spending the rest of the day at your parents’, jj takes you home. it’s been a couple of days since your boyfriend left you and although you’re still hurt by what he’s done, every time you walk into your house and remember that he’s not there, a sense of relief washes over you.
before jj can go back to his apartment, he stops at the front door, the question eating him alive for days. he calls your name, bringing your attention to him, “listen, i don’t want you to talk about it if you aren’t ready but…what happened the other night? i - i keep thinking about the mess on the floor and it’s haunting me.”
you walk to him, resting your hands on his chest, “promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
his eyes look into yours, “i can’t promise you that,” his low and raspy voice makes your stomach flip.
“j…i don’t want you to get hurt.”
“what did he do?”
you lick your lips, slowly gnawing on the bottom one, “he threw some things,” you swallow thickly.
“at you?”
“jj, please-“
“just answer the question,” his eyes are full of rage and you don’t know what he’s going to do once he gets to know the truth, but you’re too far into the story to lie now.
“yes. he missed…twice. i - i think he was drunk, that’s the only explanation i have. he had never done something like this before.”
the look in his eyes is scaring you, not because you fear him, but because you fear what he might do. he protects you; that’s what he’s always done for you and knowing that he couldn’t do that when nathan was with you is killing him.
“j?” you ask as he still hasn’t said anything.
“i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
your arm wraps around his bicep, stopping him, “you don’t have to do this. i’m okay.”
“because his aim is shit! that’s why you’re okay!” he all but shouts, “i’m just going to make sure he doesn’t have the chance to do it again.”
you place the hand that isn’t stopping him on his cheek, cradling his face and forcing his gaze on you, “i don’t like this,” you whisper, your faces closer than you had realized before.
his eyes finally soften; he slowly wraps his fingers around your wrist, that was brushing against his chin, and gently places a kiss on it, then on your palm, “he’ll get what he deserves,” he rasps as his forehead falls on yours, your noses brushing against each other.
“just -“ you sigh, your breath hitting his mouth, and he swears his heart skips a beat at the feeling, “be careful.”
he uses all of his self-control to not kiss your mouth until you can’t breathe anymore, but he can’t help himself from kissing the tip of your nose and then your forehead, “i will,” he reassures you.
when he shows up at your door the morning after, you don’t ask questions. the split lip, the purple bruise around his eye and the bandages around his hand are everything you need to know. he doesn’t tell you what happened and if you want to be honest, you don’t really want to know, so luckily, that was the last time either of you brought the subject up.
everyday, jj is there for you, holding your hair up when you’re sick and bringing you all the weird foods you start craving. when he said he wasn’t going to leave you, he meant it. he picks up all your calls immediately, even if it’s in the middle of the night.
“hey, sunshine,” he answers his phone, one night. he checks the time on the clock sitting on his bedside table: 3 a.m.
you’re already in your third month of pregnancy, so it’s been roughly a month since you found out. it has now become almost a habit for you to call him when you have a craving, therefore he doesn’t worry anymore when you call him so late at night.
“hey…this is going to sound weird,” you say, clearly nervous.
“what’s up?”
“i really, really want cookie dough ice cream…and popcorn.”
a moment passes before he answers, the sound of him moving some things around does not go unnoticed by you, “okay, i’ve got popcorn at my place. i can see if i can find an open gas station? for the ice cream, i mean.”
you smile, “you’re the best, you know that?”
“i know, but i love it when you say it.”
your cheeks turn cherry red, “text me when you’re coming, ‘kay?”
“sure, sunshine. don’t worry ‘bout me.”
the thing that still takes you aback is the lack of hesitation whenever you ask something; no one has ever treated you like this, except him but something feels different this time.
“my hero!” you say in a theatrical manner when jj enters your bedroom, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a small tub of ice cream in the other.
“gotta save the princess in distress,” he smirks before handing you the goods and leaving the room again, “i’ll get you a spoon.”
he holds you close to his chest for the rest of the night, almost lying to himself that this could be a habit for the rest of your lives.
you can’t deny how much you want this too, and your pregnancy hormones are making it even harder to resist him.
“oh, c’mon! it’s impossible nothing’s happened between you two yet!”
your friend, mar, is currently trying to make you talk about your ‘secret affair’ with jj, which doesn’t exist, but she keeps insisting it does.
you’ve been hanging out with her a lot more these past few months since she also has a baby, and you’re desperate for advices from someone who has already been through this.
“i swear, mar! why would something happen?”
“because he’s hot and he’s been head over heels for you since forever?”
you chuckle, before taking a sip of the water in front of you. you’re sitting at a café, hoping no one is listening to your conversation, “yeah, sure.”
she looks at you, cocking an eyebrow, “don’t tell me you don’t know. you really think he’s not in love with you?”
you shrug, “yeah, ‘cause he’s not. he’s my best friend, that’s it.”
“you’re telling me you’ve never, even once, looked at him in a different way? not even in a i-want-to-jump-his-bones kind of way?”
you’re sure your cheeks are turning red now, “maybe…but that doesn’t count!”
“what doesn’t?”
“i mean, i’ve always thought he was hot, but lately things have felt different - i have been feeling differently,” you correct yourself.
you don’t tell her that you’ve been admiring him from afar all those years of friendship, how watching him with someone else makes a sick feeling in your stomach grow, or how your heart seems to jump out of your chest whenever he touches you.
she leans closer to you, her elbows sitting on the small table between you, “different how?” she smirks.
“the jump-his-bones thing…” you mumble, “but i think there’s something different with me! i don’t know, maybe it’s the pregnancy.”
she seems to think about your words for a moment, “wait, this is about your fourth month, right?” you nod, “that’s totally normal! your hormones start going crazy around the fourth month of pregnancy. i couldn’t keep my hands off mike during that time,” she says, referring to her husband.
“is that what this is? i thought i was turning into a horny teenager.”
you both laugh before you continue, “i guess i can call my gynecologist and see if she can give me a pill or something.”
“oh yeah, that’s what you need: a good…pill.”
you playfully roll your eyes at her, “shut up.”
“i bet jj would be happy to help you with that by the way.”
“mar!”
she throws her hands in the air, “just saying.”
as you drive back home, your friend’s words keep replaying in your head.
could he really be in love with you? and even if he were, why wouldn’t he tell you, especially right now?
you mindlessly walk through the front door, still deep in your thoughts, when you hear a strange sound coming from the corridor. you automatically place your hand on your phone, ready to call ‘someone’, before your head turns to the window, your eyes searching for jj’s truck. when you see it right outside your house, you sigh in relief.
“jj?” you call his name, walking towards the sound.
“in here!” he yells, his voice now clearly coming from the empty room in your apartment.
when you find yourself outside the room, you have to stop yourself from actually drooling at the sight; he’s kneeling on the ground, shirtless and sweating, as he’s working with some pieces of wood. you’re not really sure what he’s doing but you’re sure as hell enjoying the view.
“j, what are you doing?” you ask as you enter what’s supposed to be a spare room, confusion and amusement written all over your face.
“i’m building a crib,” he says nonchalantly while your lips slightly part at his words.
your hand automatically travels to your growing belly, “what?”
“i thought i would get ahead of things, before everything becomes crazy and shit, i don’t know. wanted to surprise you,” he shrugs, although it’s obvious he cares about your reaction.
“is this going to be the baby’s room?”
he finally rises rom his kneeling position and walks to you, standing at the door to look at the room in front of you, “you don’t like it?”
tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even know why, “it’s just - it’s so boring and plain! i-“ you take a deep breath and look at jj, “i love what you’re doing, j. it’s the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me but…this room is so ugly.”
you almost start to cry when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing your body flush against his, and kisses your head, “i’m sorry,” you whisper against his naked chest, your insides turning at the feeling of his skin.
“hey, it’s okay. did you really think i wanted to keep those beige walls in a baby’s room?”
you crane your neck to look up at him, “you don’t?”
he chuckles, “of course not, baby. i wanted to paint the walls a different color, that’s for sure. i was thinking green. would you like that?”
you nod and wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly to rest your head right where his neck meets his shoulder, “yes, yes! that’s so pretty!”
he’s completely taken aback by your sudden burst of happiness, not that he minds, he would do absolutely anything to make you happy. jj wraps his arms tightly around your torso and spins you a little as you giggle, the sound like a sweet melody he never wants to stop listening to.
when your feet hit the ground again, you place your hands on his reddened cheeks and kiss one of them sweetly, “thank you.”
“anything for you, you know that.”
you smile up at him, showing him your sweetest smile, one that’s always been his. his arms are still circling around your torso, keeping you close to him and you swear you see his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, but that’s it; only a second, before he goes back to what he was doing previous to your arrival.
the next day, jj shows up at your house with full buckets of green paint, brushes and rollers in plastic bags and that grin on his face you love so much, “put on some old clothes, baby, because we’re painting a room today.”
you look at him incredulous, “are you serious right now?”
“uhhh, yeah?”
he walks to what will be the baby’s room while you run to your closet, excited to do this for your child. you wear a big, worn, white t-shirt, which you’re sure is actually jj’s, and a pair of denim overalls your mom gave to you when she found out about your pregnancy, since they’re bigger than your usual size.
jj swears his heart skips a beat when he sees you, the look suits you so much he wishes he could kiss you right then and there.
“so, are we doing this?” you ask, walking to him as he tries to stop staring and gawking at you.
he hands you a paint roller, already covered in the light pastel green tint, and you take it with a determined smile on your face, which he returns.
“where do i start?”
“just paint the center and i’ll do the edges and hard spots,” he says as he also picks his own roller.
“you think i can’t handle the ‘hard spots’, maybank?” you grin in a teasing manner, making fun of the way he spoke to you and doing air quotes with your free hand.
“i think i don’t want you to climb a ladder. i won’t help you if you fall on your ass.”
you push his shoulder jokingly, “shut up, you would carry me around for weeks if i ever fall,” you add, laughing at the image you have in your head of a very tired jj giving you piggyback rides.
“yeah, i would,” and the smile on his face is a genuine one this time.
you and jj fall in a comfortable silence as you paint the walls of your baby’s room, illuminated by the soft afternoon light coming from the window. everything has always been easy with him, you never once felt judged or self-conscious around him, because you know that no matter what happens, he’ll always take your side.
you glance at him from time to time, his thin, white cotton shirt giving you a full view of his abs. you can’t help yourself from feeling warmer only by looking at him, and at this point you’re not sure you can blame it all on your pregnancy hormones.
“wanna listen to some music?” he asks after a while.
“sure.”
jj takes his phone out of the back pocket of his ripped jeans, and after scrolling his screen for a while, he sets it down on the floor as ‘i’m walking on sunshine’ by katrina and the waves starts playing.
“seriously?” you laugh at him as he starts moving his hips to the music and bopping his head.
“what?”
he keeps painting, enjoying the giggles leaving your lips as you look at him.
“you’re ridiculous!”
“oh yeah?”
he takes your free hand and starts spinning you around which leads the acrylic covering the roll in your other hand to splatter on him and yourself.
“jj!” you act mad, although you can’t keep the laughter inside you.
“you know, green hair suits you,” he teases.
“oh, you’re dead!”
suddenly, your roller is sliding down his shirt as a gasp leaves his lips.
“you didn’t!”
in the blink of an eye, you’re both splattering paint on each other, your clothes ruined and your smiles so big your cheeks hurt.
you turn around as you squeal from the amount of paint you’re throwing at each other, but it’s so fun you don’t even care. when you ‘accidentally’ cover his face in green, it’s over.
your mouth is agape and a choked laugh escapes you at the sight. jj lets his roller fall down on the ground as he uses both of his hands to get rid of the paint, so slowly that it’s now become comical.
“that’s it. come here!”
he runs after you, making you scream in amusement, but the chase doesn’t last long as he wraps his arms around your torso from behind, slightly lifting you from the ground while you bend your legs and then he puts you immediately back with your feet on the floor, never letting you go. he smothers his face on your shoulder and cheek while you keep laughing, your stomach almost hurting from how much fun you’re having.
“stop, stop!” you try to say between choked gasps.
you manage to turn around in his arms and face him, stupid grins on both your faces and as you both realize how close you are to each other, your chuckles die down. you reach his green cheek with your hand, trying to get rid of the paint.
“green suits you, maybank,” you say, mocking him.
“i hate you,” his voice is hoarse as he looks down at you, wrapped in his arms and completely happy.
your hand travels down to his jaw, until your palm touches his chin; his breath hitches at your soft touch.
“you don’t,” you whisper.
your eyes flicker from his to his lips while your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, removing the residual green on them. you can’t help yourself from staring at them, biting your own bottom lip unconsciously.
“yeah, i don’t,” he mumbles, slowly leaning down as your mouths get dangerously close to each other and you can feel his breath fanning out on your parted lips.
his eyes stare into yours, a thousand words left unsaid. your other hand is resting on his hard chest and the loud thumping of his heart against your touch makes you flutter your eyes close.
“do you want me to stop?” he breathes out, with his lips already brushing against yours.
you open your eyes, and when you’re about to tell him to just kiss you - the sound of your doorbell wakes you up from your trance.
as your heart tries to get back to a normal rate, you unwrap yourself from his arms with an apologetic smile; you clear your throat, “i - i have to - uhm, the door-“
to say he made you a flustered mess is an understatement. he chuckles lightly, “right.”
when you open the front door, annoyed at whoever ruined the moment you were having with jj, the last person on earth you would’ve expected stands outside.
“nathan,” you gasp.
you look down at your clothes, green paint all over you, and then back up at him. is this really happening?
“is this a bad time?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“hey, who was at the-“
‘this is bad’ you think to yourself, horror clear on your face.
jj speed walks to you, an arm is thrown protectively in front of you as he gives the man the most intense death stare you’ve ever seen.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” jj asks with so much venom in his voice.
“i need to talk to you. what the fuck is he doing here?” nathan looks at you, completely ignoring the blond beside you.
“no. you’re going to stay outside and talk to me.”
shit.
“j, calm down, please. don’t do anything stupid,” you turn to the blond beside you, placing a hand on his chest, but it’s useless; he’s already walking outside, with you hot on his heels.
“get back inside,” he tells you, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.
“hey, look at me,” you force his head to turn to you by placing your hands on his cheeks, and his gaze finally softens, “you’ve already done enough. stop it.”
“i don’t want you to be alone with him.”
“but i need to do this alone, please.”
you can see his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he looks between you and nathan, “whatever happens, i’m inside.”
you give him a reassuring smile, “i know.”
you watch as he walks back into your apartment, and you turn back to your ex boyfriend.
“what are you doing here, nathan?” you ask annoyed.
“you’re my girl and that’s my baby,” he says pointing to your prominent belly, “what is he doing here?”
“your girl? what are you talking about? you left us months ago!”
“no, you kicked me out-“
“because you didn’t want us! you tried to hit me, nathan! what the hell do you want from me?”
he walks closer to you, but you instinctively take a step back, showing him how much you fear him, and that makes a sick smile appear on his face, “that’s still my baby. you hate it, don’t you?”
what you don’t realize is that he’s not smiling at you, but at the blond man standing outside your door with his arms across his chest. the thought of leaving you alone with nathan was making him sick to his stomach and he couldn’t stay inside any longer.
“i don’t hate my baby. i’m their mother and i’ll love them until my last breath, and i know other people will too. they’re just unlucky to have a sick and piece of shit of a father-“
your breath is knocked out of your lungs when a hand almost hits you in the face; the blow is stopped by someone else’s fingers wrapped around nathan’s wrist.
“you think i don’t know why you came here?” jj spits at him, “did you really think i didn’t know you were here for revenge? you want nothing to do with this baby, you never did.”
nathan looks at you and then back at jj, “oh yeah? then why are you here? i know you’re just waiting for her to give it up like the sl-“ before he could end his sentence, jj’s hand wraps around his throat, throwing him on the wall beside your door.
“c’mon, what were you saying, huh? let’s see if you’ve got the balls to say it!” he yells in his face.
“get off me!”
nathan tries to get rid of jj’s assault, pushing at him as he can feel his fingers tighten around his throat, choking him.
“JJ! STOP IT!” you scream as you can see the brown haired’s face start to get redder, fighting for air.
“stay the fuck away from my girl, you got it?” jj all but growls.
he finally lets go of nathan, pushing his head back on the wall violently as he does so, emitting a groan of pain from him. nathan starts coughing violently, trying to regain his breath, when jj speaks again, “and if i see you near her again, if i hear you talking about her, i swear i won’t stop until you’re dead.”
he walks over to you, placing one hand on your back as he gently pushes you inside the house. when he closes the door behind him, he spins you around and his eyes are immediately scanning over your face, checking for injuries, “he didn’t touch you, right?”
“j,” you gulp, “you could’ve killed him.”
he licks his lips and then avoids your eyes, “should’ve done it the moment i found out what he did to you. he’s lucky i haven’t done it yet.”
you put some distance between you two, causing him to look at you with hurt written all over his features, “you could’ve gone to jail, jj. what the hell were you thinking?”
“i was thinking he was about to hit you! did you want me to give him a pat on the back for almost slapping you in the face?”
you rub your hands on your face, confusion and frustration hitting you all at once, “i don’t want you to get hurt or get in such serious trouble because of me. that’s all i’m saying.”
he takes a step closer to you, “you do realize i would go to jail for you? i don’t care. there’s no way i would’ve let him get away for hurting you and the baby. and yes, y/n, i would kill for the both of you.”
you inhale sharply, closing your eyes for a second. when you reopen them, you take the last steps that separate you and throw your arms around his neck, hugging him close to you. he’s quick to catch you, one arm wrapped tightly around your torso and the other resting on your head.
“just because you would go to jail for me doesn’t mean i want you to,” you whisper, your lips on his neck, “i need you to stay here…with us. i want the baby to know the wonderful man that you are, okay?”
his arm tighten, if that’s possible, around you, “okay, baby. i’m right here; not going anywhere.”
it’s been almost two months since the last time you saw your ex boyfriend now. nothing has changed between you and jj, although the air is different; there’s a tension every time you look at each other and neither of you knows how to deal with it.
lingering touches and stolen glances are part of your day to day life and you don’t know how long you can keep this facade up before one of you decides to do something about it.
it’s currently five in the morning and you’re lying on your bed as one hand rests on your belly, rubbing the naked skin lovingly. you were awoken by a weird sensation in your stomach but now everything feels normal and you’re trying to fall asleep again, when the feeling comes back.
“oh my god,” you whisper to yourself, “you’re kicking. oh my god!”
you reach for your phone immediately, giggling at the feeling of little feet kicking in your stomach.
you don’t even give him the time to say something, “j, you have to come here right now!”
well, that got his attention instantly and he’s already putting his shoes on as he asks: “what’s going on? are you okay? is the baby okay?”
“they’re kicking! they’re kicking for the first time, j. you have to feel this! oh my god, it’s so weird!”
jj is already getting in his car when he smiles widely at your voice, your happiness so clear in your words that his heart clenches at the sound, “yeah? good weird or bad weird?”
“good weird,” you say, sighing happily, “definitely good weird.”
“stay right there, love. i’ll be there before you know it, okay?”
you hear the sound of the motor of the car, already moving and ready to get to you, “m’kay. we’ll wait for you.”
when he arrives, he almost runs into your room and launches himself on the bed, letting a big laugh erupt from your lips; his favorite music.
“come here, come here. they started kicking like crazy when i talked to you!” you tell him as he climbs up higher on the bed to kiss your forehead, making you smile even wider.
you take his hand and place it on your stomach, although the movements have stopped at least five minutes ago.
“is it happening?” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your face, admiring your beauty slightly illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window.
“not anymore,” your hand guides his around on your belly, hoping the contact will make the baby move again, “i can’t believe you missed it.”
“hey,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, turning your attention to him, “it’s okay. i wish i was here for the first time, but i don’t want you to be upset about it. they kicked! we should be happy about this, sunshine.”
you smile at each other and you lean into his touch, “i know,” you sigh, “they’re already growing so fast, i can’t-“
the feeling of something moving inside you, interrupts you, “they’re doing it again, j!”
his hand is still resting on your stomach and he chuckles in disbelief when he can feel the movement too, “oh my god, this is amazing!”
you look at him, your eyes shining from the joy of sharing this moment with him, and when he turns to you again and notices that your eyes were already on him, he kisses your cheek, so slowly and with so much affection that it takes you by surprise.
“i wish i could be here for everything,” he confesses, almost to himself, “every little thing, i want to be here; for you and for them.”
“then stay,” the words escape your lips unconsciously, but there’s no turning back now, “i mean, if you want. you can move in.”
his eyes widen while a big grin plays on his face, “are you serious?”
you nervously bite your bottom lip, scared that he might think that you’re crossing too many lines, “yeah, if you want. you said you want to be here for everything and if you lived here, you could. it was just a thought, if you don’t want this, i-“
his arms wrap around you in a swift motion, startling you but you recover quickly by returning the hug, “i’ll take this as a yes?”
he looks at you, lying on his side as one arm is still resting on your waist, “of course! i care about you, both of you. i don’t want to miss anything.”
you smile at him and scoot closer to feel his comforting touch, “go back to sleep, sunshine,” he whispers, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”
jj spends hours watching you sleep, the sound of your soft breaths, the peacefulness on your features, the way you try to get closer to him, even in your sleep; he’s so in love with you, it hurts sometimes. he wants nothing but to spend the rest of his life like this, sleeping in the same bed and holding each other until morning comes.
and that’s how you spend your nights from now on. when you asked him to move in with you, you both agreed he would have to sleep on the pullout couch, because that’s what made sense, right?
but how can you sleep so far away from him when he’s so close? he’s your safe haven, always have been and always will. therefore, you end up sleeping on the pullout couch more often than you’d like to admit, and he ends up in bed with you, because he can’t stay away from you either.
‘i had a nightmare’
‘i can’t sleep’
‘do you feel like watching a movie?’
bad excuses to spend the night together, that’s what they are.
you’re currently lying on the pullout couch, jj’s head on your chest as you’re both trying to sleep. when he thinks you have drift off, his hand falls on your belly, gently stroking it as a thousand mental pictures of your future together fill his head. he unwraps himself from you and positions himself in order to place his head on your stomach. maybe it’s silly, but the book that lays on your bedside table said that babies can hear you even when they’re in the womb; so it’s worth a try, he thinks.
“hi, baby,” he mumbles against your skin, “i know we don’t know each other yet, but i love you very much, and so does your mom. you’re very lucky, y’know? she’s the best mom you could’ve asked for,” he softly kisses the skin, “and i swear i’ll try to be enough for both you and her. i wish i could give you everything in the world, but for now i hope my heart is enough.”
jj sighs, slowly rubbing the skin with his thumb, completely unaware that his movements woke you up a while ago, “you know, your mom already had my heart before, she always did, but sssh, this is a secret between you and me, mh?” he chuckles softly, “but you? well, you and your mom have been sharing my heart since the moment i found out about you. i know it’ll be yours forever, i don’t want it to be anyone else’s.”
a moment passes before he can get the next words out, “i love you both so much, you have no idea,” he says, his voice breaking as he does so.
“j?” you inhale sharply, too scared of making a sound. your heart is beating so fast and tears are welling up in your eyes as you look down at the man who’s been taking care of you for as long as you can remember.
“i - i thought you were asleep…” he says, his eyes full of fear as he gets up from his position to lay next to you.
“what was that about?” your voice is barely a whisper. did he just confess that he loves you? what did he mean?
“i read that babies can hear you even when they’re not born yet…thought maybe it would be nice to talk to them i guess,” his eyes avoid yours at all costs, hoping that you didn’t hear everything he said. the situation is already complicated as it is, he doesn’t want to make your life harder than it is right now.
“not that. the things you said…j, did you mean them?” your hand cradles his face, forcing him to finally look at you as a thousand emotions are written in his eyes.
“y/n, i-“
“yes or no. did you mean them?”
you don’t want to play childish games, not anymore. you can’t keep acting like you don’t know what’s going on between you.
“yes.”
the breath you let out is shaky and you can barely keep your composure with the amount of feelings you have right now. you’ve always known he loves you, but not like this. this is a different kind of love that you thought he would never have for you, and it scares you.
your hand falls from his cheek, but he’s quick to hold it in his, bringing it to his chest as you can feel his thumping heart beneath your touch; or maybe it’s yours, you’re not even sure at this point.
“nothing has to change, please,” his eyes search for yours, full of panic, “don’t push me away; not now. i have to take care of you and the baby, i can’t imagine a life without you. i can move out, if that makes you more comfortable-“
“yes. you should move out,” you don’t want to do this, and that’s clear by the way your voice breaks, but it’s what’s best for everyone involved, “you can come over whenever you want, but i don’t think you should keep living here.”
he drops your hand, putting some space between you two, as rejection is written all over his features. he slowly nods his head, keeping his tears at bay, “whatever you think is right for you.”
you avoid his eyes, sitting up, and you start to get up from the bed. for the umpteenth time, he’s putting your happiness before his. your eyes water as you stand in front of the couch, showing him your back before you turn around to face him, his body still laying on the mattress.
“this isn’t what i want, j,” you whisper.
he finally looks up at you, “then what do you want, y/n?” he raises from the bed, towering over you, “because i’ll do it. whatever you want, but you have to say it. you know what i want, what i’ve always wanted,” his face is so close to yours that you don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold yourself back, “now look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want the same things.”
you close your eyes for a second before looking up at him, “i want you to be happy and free. i don’t want you to feel trapped, with a baby and everything, i-“ you sigh in frustration, “i don’t want to be a burden, not anymore.”
“you were never a burden,” his hands are placed on your arms as if to beg you to stay, “and you never trapped me. i stayed because i wanted to. what do i have to do to make you understand that this is what i want? i’m not messing around, y/n.”
you swallow thickly, the intense look in his eyes making your legs feel weak, “j, i-“
“just tell me.”
“what if you regret-“
“please,” he whispers as he lets his forehead touch yours, your heaving chests almost brushing against each other from the closeness.
“kiss me,” and he does, instantly.
his lips move gently against yours at first, tasting you, until the kiss becomes more urgent and rough. his tongue thrusts inside your mouth, claiming it and exploring it for the first time. years and years of pining and sexual frustration all in one long and breathless kiss.
one of his hands rests on your hip, almost brushing against your naked skin, while the other is placed on the back of your head, before it starts to trail down along your spine. you can’t help yourself from moaning against his mouth, tugging on his hair as you do so, which makes a low groan slip from his throat. he slowly makes you walk backwards and pushes you against the kitchen counter, without ever breaking the kiss.
his hands wrap around your naked thighs, slowly reaching for your behind and helping you sit on the counter. your legs rest on either side of him as his hands touch the exposed skin of your legs.
you lightly push him away, your foreheads still touching as you try to regain your breath, “oh my god,” you breathe out, emitting a chuckle from him.
“i second that.”
your noses brush against each other as you take deep breaths, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this,” he mumbles on your lips.
“me too, j,” you say with your hands still tangled in his hair.
he pecks your lips once, then twice, before his mouth starts leaving a trail of wet kisses from your jaw down to your neck, sucking and lightly biting on the spot below your ear, making you gasp at the feeling; the sound going right into his pants.
“fuck - the things you do to me, sunshine…” he rasps, his lips still nipping and kissing your exposed skin.
“wait,” you say and he raises his head to look at you.
“you want me to stop? we don’t have to do anything.”
he rubs your thigh with his thumb, comforting you, “i want this; i really do, but…” you look down, too embarrassed to face him, “my body is…different now.”
“oh, baby. your body is perfect. you really don’t know how hard you make me, do you? you’re sexy as hell, baby. so fucking gorgeous.”
your let your eyes fall to the prominent bulge in his pants before looking up at him, your cheeks flushed, “hey, if you want to wait, i’ll do it. i’ll wait for you as long as you need. waited my whole life, i can do it a little longer,” he whispers, seeing your hesitation.
“you can’t say things like that and expect me to not want you to take my clothes off.”
he chuckles lightly, before you slowly jump down the counter and take his hand, intertwining your fingers together.
you begin walking towards your room, your back to the door and your front to jj’s. your lips press against his jaw, leaving sweet kisses, until they reach his ear, “i want you to make love to me,” you murmur, your lips on his earlobe, gently biting it as a growl leaves his mouth, “then i want you to fuck me.”
and let’s just say he doesn’t hesitate for one second. he worships your body all night, showing you exactly how you should be treated, how all of the other guys you’ve been with were nothing compared to what he’s able to make you feel. you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in bed, and even in your situation, he still manages to make you feel beautiful and sexy.
you fall asleep in his arms, naked and finally happy.
week 34 of pregnancy
“JJ I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T DRIVE FASTER I’LL KILL YOU!” you yell as your boyfriend is driving you to the hospital.
his foot hits the gas a little bit more, his arm wrapped in front of you, as if the seatbelt isn’t enough.
“breathe, baby, just breathe,” he keeps telling you and you’re really close to strangling him.
another contraction hits you and you grab his arm, tightly shutting your eyes from the pain. jj quickly checks the time on the watch on the hand that’s gripping the steering wheel.
“shit,” he whispers to himself, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“what?”
“the last one was four minutes ago. the baby is coming and soon.”
“it hurts, j!”
“hold on, baby, we need to get to the hospital NOW.”
by the time a nurse is pushing you on a wheelchair down the hospital halls, the contractions are three minutes apart. once they bring you to your room, jj sits next to you, holding your hand in his.
“we’re here! we’re here!” your mom says as she enters the room, followed by your dad and mar.
“i need everyone to leave the room for a second,” your doctor says and everyone follows her orders.
she examines you, checking to see if the baby is ready, “okay, y/n. it’s time. two minutes and we’re going to start, okay?”
you nod, fear obvious in your eyes, “can they come in for a second?” you ask, referring to the people outside.
“of course, but just for a second,” she calls them in.
jj runs to your side, kissing your forehead sweetly and holding your hand again, “everything okay?”
“she said two minutes and we’re starting.”
he sees the panic in your eyes and brushes some hair out of your face, in order to comfort you, “it’s okay. everything’s going to be okay, mh? and i’ll be right here, baby, i’m not leaving you.”
after hearing your parents’ and your friend’s reassuring words, the doctor comes back, “okay, i need everyone, except the father, out.”
they all leave, jj still sitting by your side. the gynecologist raises one eyebrow at him, “are you the father?”
“yes,” you answer, without thinking twice.
he doesn’t say anything; one of his arms is resting on the pillow behind your back, for you’re in a sitting position, while his other hand is still tightly holding yours.
“okay, then. ready to push?”
you nod. as the whole process goes on, jj and your doctor’s words are the only thing that are helping you through this. one of jj’s arms is now under your knee, keeping your legs open, as you start crying.
the doctor gives you a five seconds break, waiting for the next contraction while your back hits the pillow behind you, giving up the fight.
“i can’t push anymore,” you cry, jj’s hand pushing your hair out of your face, sticked to your forehead due to the sweat, and yet he thinks you look like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
“i know, sunshine, i know. a little bit more, you can do it,” he kisses the side of your head.
“i can’t, i can’t. can you do it for me?”
he looks down at you, smiling sweetly, “i wish i could, but you’re gonna have to do this one.”
“c’mon. again, y/n,” your doctor says, resuming your previous actions.
when you finally hear the sound of a baby crying, your whole body relaxes against the pillow.
“did so good, baby. you did so good,” jj praises you, pressing his lips to your forehead.
his eyes look for the baby, resting in the gynecologist’s hands, “oh my god. oh my god, it’s a girl,” he tells you.
you look for your baby and when you see her, tears start streaming down your face again, “oh my god. she’s so tiny,” you watch as the nurses bring her away from you, “where are they taking her? j, where is she?”
“it’s okay, baby. they’re just washing her.”
“oh, okay, but be careful, she’s really tiny!”
jj chuckles wetly, tears also running down his face. a nurse hands you your baby and you instantly hold her to your chest.
“she’s so beautiful,” you whisper.
“she looks like you.”
you look up at him, “how can you say that? she was just born!”
“she’s beautiful, so she must look like you.”
your lips lightly touch her forehead, admiring her as jj does the same. when your eyes search for him again, you find him completely in awe with the baby, rubbing her small, blanket-covered arm with his thumb.
“maybank, if you don’t kiss me right now, i swear to go-“
his mouth is on yours before you can end your sentence, gently kissing your lips.
“i love you so much, sunshine.”
“i love you, j. so, so much.”
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